The militias weren’t coming. Well, some of them were, but not the force that could have made up the greatest part of Lochlan’s army, not the Raudur city militia.
Warriors from outlying villages trickled into the capital, and more would come as Lochlan led his force toward Iskalt.
But the people right here in the largest city in Eldur? They sat in their homes, closing their doors against the thought of helping a foreign kingdom.
Brea walked the streets at dusk against her mother’s wishes. Sure, there were dangers in any city, but as the sun disappeared, Brea was one of the few in Eldur with magic still coursing through her veins.
Magic she couldn’t control without the words she didn’t know, but that didn’t matter. The people of Eldur still thought her the Fargelsian princess. They didn’t know how inexperienced she really was.
As she stared up at the squat buildings, stretching as far as she could see, she couldn’t help thinking about another city in another place. Back in the human world, Myles’ dad occasionally let her and Myles tag along when he went to Columbus for supplies. It was a two-hour drive north into the city. There were few similarities between those tall towers that reached toward the sky with glass windows reflecting sunlight back into the atmosphere and these heavily adorned sandstone buildings. In place of paved roads, there were cobblestone cart paths.
But the people, they weren’t so different. They went about their days working and shopping at the market. Taverns lined the road, not unlike the bars of human cities—serving as a place for people to unwind and let their rowdy out, as Myles would say.
There were mothers and fathers, children chasing each other in games of tag. The poor relied on the charity of strangers, and the wealthy lived in grand homes among the upper city, close to the top of the canyon.
Lord knows, Lochlan would never admit it, but the fae weren’t so different from humans. They desired love and comfort.
Brea stopped outside Xander’s tavern in the lower city market. At this time of day, the fae inside would be drinking mead instead of Eldur brew. The door opened and a young couple stumbled out, almost falling down in laughter as they headed up the road.
Loud chatter filtered out of the tavern, and Brea propped the door open with her foot, peering in. She was an outsider getting a glimpse at a simple fae life. Most of the time, she still thought of herself as human, different from the fae around her. But staring into the crowded room, Brea wanted to be one of them, just once. She wanted to know what it was to belong, not simply because she was supposedly a princess and future queen, but because these fae seemed to take such pleasure in just being together.
Her eyes followed Adamina as she wound around tables, two mugs of mead in hand. She set them on a table in the back corner where two familiar fae took them gratefully.
Brea entered the tavern, letting the door swing shut behind her. Her dress caught between her legs, and she stepped forward, wishing she’d worn something different into the city. The leather bodice suddenly felt too constricting, cutting off her breath. The room started spinning and didn’t stop until a hand landed on her shoulder.
“Princess.” Xander’s gruff voice calmed her. She hated the title he used, but at least he didn’t try to bow. “Are you okay?”
She nodded. “I’m good, Xander. Thank you. The last few days have been trying, and I’m just a little tired.” She’d been working herself to the bone getting all the arriving militias accounted for and equipped. She’d convinced Lochlan to stay longer than he’d planned, but as the day of their departure neared, the doubts entered her mind.
How could she expect to be any help to him?
What if they failed?
Shouldn’t she go with Finn to Fargelsi?
But what would Myles do? What was right? He’d tell her there was nothing she could do for him. If there was a way to free him, she’d go to any length, but there wasn’t. So, Iskalt it was.
She forced a smile and looked to Xander. “Yes. I wish to speak with Lochlan.”
“Would you like some mead?”
Her face screwed up in disgust. “Um, no. An Eldur Brew will be fine.”
One side of his mouth curved up. “I’ll have Mina bring it to you.”
This time, her smile was genuine. “Thank you.”
Tables quieted as she passed, and she wasn’t sure she’d ever get used to that. What would happen when they learned she was the Eldurian heir?
Lochlan and Finn didn’t see her until she practically collapsed into the booth across from them. They looked up from where they’d been huddled in conversation on the same side of table. Brea could see it as she looked at them, how they were once drawn to each other when they were younger.
Lochlan with his light looks and dark countenance. Finn with his sparkling eyes and the way he could find joy even when his heart had been ripped from his body.
“Shouldn’t you be up at the palace?” Lochlan lifted a brow, but there was no scolding in his voice.
He’d seemed to have forgotten all about their kiss, but that was fine with Brea when he said things that infuriated her so much. “Shouldn’t you?” she challenged.
Finn chortled as he sipped his mead.
Brea held Loch’s gaze until Adamina set a mug of Eldur Brew in front of her. “Thank you, Mina. I know you probably had to make this special at this time of day.”
Adamina smiled down at her. “Anything for you, Brea. Let me know when you need another.” She shot a look at Lochlan. “Something tells me you might need it with this kind of company.”
Brea hid her smile behind her mug as Adamina flounced away.
“I don’t think Mina likes you, Loch.” Finn shoved his shoulder with a laugh.
“That’s because few in this city like the foreign prince who thinks he’s better than them.” Brea shrugged.
It wasn’t a lie. She’d spent a lot of time among these people, and they held no loyalty for Lochlan. In their opinion, he was a pushy brute. They weren’t wrong.
“I don’t need people to love me.” Lochlan drained his mug and held it in the air, a silent call to Adamina for more. He waved it impatiently.
As Adamina set another in front of him and took the empty mug, she muttered something like “fool of a man.”
Brea shook her head. “It’s a wonder they don’t like you. You’re very courteous.”
“Was that supposed to be human sarcasm?” Lochlan scowled. “It does not become you.”
“Then it’s a good thing your opinion is of little import—as you’d say in your haughty way.”
“Children.” Finn leaned forward with his elbows on the table. “You were playing so nice on our jaunt into Iskalt.”
“Jaunt.” Lochlan snorted with a shake of his head.
He was right. There was nothing jaunt-like about the trip. Only death. Fear and grief overcame the loathing for a few short days, but now she was pretty sure Lochlan was back to hating her.
She didn’t hate him, that much she’d realized, but she wasn’t quite sure how to stop arguing with him when he was such a disagreeable fae. As tensions rose in the palace with the militias preparing to march into Iskalt, the tensions between Lochlan and Brea grew more strained.
“I don’t need people to like me,” Lochlan grumbled as he sipped his mead. “Their respect is enough.”
There was something sad in that statement, and for a moment Brea wanted to reach across the table and put her hand over his. The pain had never left Lochlan’s eyes, no matter how hard he tried to cover it up.
She lowered her voice. “Wouldn’t you rather they respect you out of love instead of fear?”
“They will never love me, Brea. You need to understand… those in the fae realms are hesitant about outsiders. Eldur is not my kingdom. I may have grown up here, but they are not my people. And for that reason, they will not trust me.”
“But they like me.” At least she thought they did. “And they think I’m a Fargelsian princess.”
“Fargelsi has kidnapped their beloved princess, and you show up having escaped Queen Regan. Don’t you see, Brea? You give them hope for Alona.”
“Hope,” she whispered to herself. It was the most honest thing anyone had ever said to her. She’d spent her life being told she was crazy and that no one other than Myles ever loved her. But now…
Finn spoke as if reading the thought out loud. “I see it too. They barely know you, yet you have their love. If you can escape Gelsi, why can’t Alona?”
They all knew the reasons it would be harder for Alona. She was a human with no magic, and Regan was no doubt keeping her in more secure holdings. But Brea saw what Finn and Lochlan meant.
She sipped her Eldur Brew in silence, wondering if this hope they claimed she gave the people actually meant anything at all.
###
Eldur Brew was the devil.
Brea lay awake in her bed, unable to sleep. She’d returned from the tavern hours ago, leaving Lochlan and Finn to their cups, but it seemed this sleepless night would only add to her weariness.
Her mother convinced Lochlan to wait three more days for more militia to arrive. Most brought their own horses, but the palace armory had been busy arming them with adequate weapons rather than the more rudimentary ones they’d brought.
Everything was moving as it should. Wagons of supplies were loaded and ready to accompany the force. It wouldn’t be easy. Most of these fae hadn’t seen a battle in their lifetimes, and others not for many years. They weren’t the seasoned warriors making up the Eldurian army that now sat on the Fargelsi border.
But they were all Lochlan had.
Brea rolled over, burying her face in her pillow. How did she get here? In three days, she’d ride away from her mother’s palace in fighting leathers, armed with a sword she didn’t know how to use and magic she had a tenuous control over.
Yep, this probably wouldn’t end well for Brea.
But she had no other choice. With Finn leaving for Fargelsi soon, she had to be by Lochlan’s side. Despite their arguing and constant insults, if anything happened to him, she… a groan rattled in her throat. It would be so much easier if she could hate him, if he’d shown himself to be the snake his brother was.
Thoughts of Griff sent warring emotions through her. She’d thought he was the first person other than Myles to ever truly see her, but it was all a beautiful lie.
A thud sounded against her door, and she lifted her head, sighing as she kicked the sheets from her legs. If she could be sure she wouldn’t destroy the entire palace by doing it, she’d reach out with her magic and pull the door open.
But alas, she had to use her legs.
Yanking the door open, she prepared to unleash her rage on whoever stood on the other side. Instead, she rolled her eyes. “You’ve made quite the habit of showing up at my room in the middle of the night.” She held her arm across the doorway so Lochlan couldn’t enter.
But when he lifted his icy blue eyes to hers, magic swirled in their depths, and it was so beautiful she dropped her arm. “I need your help.”
There was no scorn in his voice, only desperation, so Brea gestured for him to enter.
He walked in, his eyes skimming over the discarded clothes strewn over the floor and other possessions out of place. Brea hadn’t let Rowena in to tidy up once she’d gotten back from the city. The maid needed sleep too.
“Want some tea?” Brea asked.
“I’m okay.”
“Good, because it’s cold, anyway.” She scooped clothes off the floor and set them on the end of her bed before leading Lochlan to the sitting area. They hadn’t been alone together since she comforted him outside the village of the dead, and the silence stretched like a vast sea, seemingly insurmountable.
Crouching in front of the hearth, Brea whispered “Dóiteán,” and flames licked up over the logs, casting a glow across the room.
Lochlan sat down and scrubbed a hand through his hair and down over the long tail.
Brea straightened and walked toward him, taking a seat next to him on the couch—settee as those in the palace called it—so close their legs touched. Lochlan didn’t move away from her.
She nudged his shoulder. “You said you needed my help.”
He nodded. “I don’t really know where to start.”
“Hey.” She took his hand between both of hers. “You can say anything to me. I know your world is bleak right now, but you can do this. You know that, right? You are the rightful king of Iskalt, and the moment you let people see that, see the real you, they won’t be able to hold themselves back from supporting you.”
He turned to look at her, his eyes holding some emotion she couldn’t decipher. “You haven’t changed. All these years I’ve watched you and marveled at your human optimism. No matter what you went through, your strength never wavered. How can you believe there is good in this world when so much bad happens?”
“Because I’ve seen it. My life has been hell, Loch. There were no palaces or doting parents for me.” She paused, not knowing how exactly much he knew of her life, how much he’d seen. But there was no use hiding the darker parts of her, not from him. “The first time they locked me away, I was nine. For three months, I spent all my time with people whose jobs were to figure out what was wrong with me—mentally—why I was having delusions and telling lies. I was institutionalized four more times before my arrest for almost killing Myles.”
“I don’t see the good in any of that.”
“That’s because you’re not looking. Griff kidnapped me and trapped me in Fargelsi, but everything I went through, every trial and abuse, it brought me here. Loch, Eldur is the good. You say the people love me, but I love them too. There’s a kindness here. I see it every day as more Eldurian fae travel to the palace to join a fight for a kingdom that is not their own.”
“I haven’t considered any of that.”
“Of course, you haven’t. You were raised a prince, told that commoners must obey your every command. But they don’t have to, not this time. The warriors about to make this journey with us are not here out of obligation. They’re here because it’s the right thing to do. Only the light can defeat the dark, Lochlan O’Shea.”
He flipped his palm over to intertwine their fingers. “Maybe your human traits aren’t the burden I thought they were.”
“Optimism and faith don’t have to be just for humans.”
“I need you, Brea.”
Her breath hitched at the admission.
When he continued, the feeling inside her deflated. “I need the Raudur City militia, but they do not come.”
“What can I do about that?”
He released her hand and skimmed his thumb under her chin, tilting it up so she met his gaze. His mouth curved into a half smile. “I need you to make a speech, a call to arms. Say whatever you must. They will come for you in a way they won’t for me. You inspire them.” He stood, ready to leave once she gave her consent.
“I…” What could she say to his request? She’d never dreamed of being a princess and didn’t want to be a queen. The people of Eldur shouldn’t follow her. Who was she but an inadequate fae girl who knew little of their world?
A fae who may as well have been human for all the good she did them.
But there was this man, the one who lost his parents when they saved her life, the very same fae she’d argued with since the day he stole her from the human police station.
For him, she’d do it. For him, she’d do just about anything. Make a speech, go to war, wear the crown.
“How do you know?” she whispered. “That I inspire them?”
His face softened as he realized what her question meant. She’d agreed to help. “Because, Brea…” His voice lowered as he turned away and walked to the door. “Even in my darkest night, you inspire me.”