The two males in red moved forward just enough to hear us but back enough that they remained discreet. When they stopped at Lord Crimsonale’s side, my eyes widened.
The Osaravee archon watched me from the crowd, his expression shrewd.
I whipped back around as the prince said, “This is Ilara Seary, daughter of Mervalee Territory.”
I brought my fist to my chest and curtsied again, my entire body dipping while I held onto the prince with my other hand. My knees were shaking so badly now I feared I would fall if I let go.
“Not of noble birth yet beautiful enough to be a princess.” King Novakin was smiling when I straightened, and the tight ball that had become my stomach loosened, if only a little. “And what brings you to the Court of Winter, Ilara Seary, daughter of Mervalee Territory?”
My lips parted, but the prince bit out. “Might we have a word in private, Father?”
King Novakin raised an eyebrow, then waved his hand toward the guards at the door. They opened the ice doors with a flourish.
Nothing else was said. All of the nobles filed out of the throne room, as though used to being dismissed with a wave of the king’s hand even if they were in the middle of a ball.
Once the room was empty, save for the guards at the door who were far enough away that they probably couldn’t hear us, Prince Norivun said, “I believe Ilara is the key to the problem I’ve been dealing with.”
The king sighed. “Ah yes, the problem.”
I frowned at the king’s superfluous tone as the prince replied, “Ilara’s affinity has manifested, and she can create orem.”
The king’s features sharpened, and he looked me over a second time. “Impossible. Only the gods can create orem.”
“Then perhaps she’s a goddess,” his son replied dryly.
The king’s eyes narrowed. “Watch your tongue, Norivun.”
The prince’s lips thinned. “I know you have your doubts about my concerns, but since Ilara can restore our land’s orem, such squabbles will ultimately become trivial as she works to replenish what’s vanished.”
The king drummed his fingers. “How can you be so certain of her magic? I’ve never heard of such an affinity.”
“Because I’ve witnessed it firsthand.”
“You did? Where did such an event occur?”
“She replenished the courtyard outside of the Exorbiant Chamber.”
His drumming fingers stopped. “You’re jesting.”
“I’m not. It’s been done. You may see for yourself. I wouldn’t be guarding her in my wing if I wasn’t sure. She’s a very valuable asset. She must be protected.”
I turned questioning eyes on the prince. An asset? A fairy with value?
Was that truly all he thought I was? A possession? Nothing more? Nothing less?
Blood rushed up my neck, heating my skin, but I kept my lips closed and didn’t utter a sound. Maybe I was overreacting.
Or maybe I wasn’t.
The prince’s fingers curled into my spine as the king laughed, the sound loud and joyful.
“So this is who you’ve been hiding away.” The king’s laugh paused. “And all week I’ve been assuming she was your new courtesan and you were simply bedding her, or are you doing that too?”
My breath sucked in, and the prince’s hand curved around my waist more, as though he knew I was about to pull away.
“Far from it,” the prince replied. “She’d sooner stab me through the heart than welcome me to her bed.” When the king frowned in confusion, Prince Norivun added, “Her brother and parents fell at my hand last season. They were of the dozen that were stirring unrest about the crops.”
“Ah, they were some of the fae who wanted to create chaos and strife about the problem?” The king shrugged, as though he and the prince discussing my murdered family and private sex life were completely trivial.
Shock rippled through me, and that anger I’d felt when I first met the prince began to simmer.
“I remember that,” the king continued. “Such a fuss was being made, yet I’ve lived eight hundred winters and have seen how our land ebbs and flows. Yet my son didn’t believe me when I told him the panic would pass. It was most tragic indeed.” The king gave me a sympathetic smile. “I do apologize. My son’s vengeance can be quite wrathful. I’m sure that hasn’t been easy for you knowing what he did.”
Genuine sympathy filled King Novakin’s eyes, and finally finding my voice, I replied, “It has been very difficult, Your Majesty.”
The king nodded before addressing the prince again. “Does she possess other affinities?” A strange interest grew in his eyes.
Prince Norivun’s lips tightened. “No.”
“Just the one? But a very great one if she can truly create orem, but to only possess one . . .” The king sighed. “Such a pity. So, she’s not like your mother.”
My lips parted in confusion. All along the prince had been comparing me to the queen, but now he was acting like I was nothing like her.
Queen Lissandra continued to sit at the king’s side, absolutely rigid in her silence.
Smiling again, the king asked, “So how did you come across such a treasure as dear Ilara?”
“I discovered her on my tour of the continent last month. Her garden shone brighter and healthier than any I’ve ever seen, and the crops were thriving. Hers was the only garden I’d come across in two thousand millees to show such promise, and her village’s crops are the healthiest on the continent.”
“How interesting.” The king pursed his lips. “And what do you propose from here?”
“She needs to train. Similar to Mother, her affinity bloomed late.”
“But she’s out of the malleable stage?”
“She is.”
“Intriguing indeed.” The king smiled at me. The gesture was so warm and welcoming and so full of genuine interest and delight that some of my anger diminished even though I was still offended at how easily he’d spoken of my dead family and who I’d bedded. “What are your plans from here? Do you intend to use her to fix the supposed problem?”
The prince’s hand tightened on my back again. “I do.”
The king’s smile turned razor sharp again as the queen’s fingers gripped her armrest so tightly her knuckles turned white. “Very well. If it appeases you, carry on.”
Their discussion continued, yet I stopped listening. All I wanted to do was disappear. Everything about this conversation felt oily and calculated. The prince was speaking of me as though all he cared about was my affinity. The king was speaking of me as though I was another nameless commoner whose only purpose was to serve his kingdom.
And I was stuck here. I’d made a fairy bargain, which meant I had to fulfill it, or I would never be allowed to leave. Even if the prince changed his mind and said I could, the bargain wouldn’t allow it, not unless I wanted to suffer the gods’ wrath. Stupid, stupid, stupid. I never should have made that bargain.