Portia chuckled humorlessly. “And why would I wish a truce? I could have Emain under my control at the snap of my fingers.”
“Possibly. Or not. You attempted to take control of Emain days ago, and were not successful.”
Portia’s mouth twisted in a cynical smile. “The disease spread more widely than I’d planned. I assure you, if we’d had all of our warriors, we would have taken over the Earth stronghold too.”
“Or you could gain it now without bloodshed and notifying the humans of our existence. The last battle on Earth took all of Emain’s diplomatic resources to cover up. You will not be able to keep a second battle quiet. Humans are not that gullible.”
“Do not tell me what I can or cannot do, Keen Albrecht.” Her eyes were as cold as the Land of Ice, where no Fae dared venture. “You have no idea of the power I wield. The palace knows what they have in store should they test me, as does my military. You’ll soon find that everyone is at my mercy. I don’t need your help with Emain. I will take it and there is nothing and no one who will stop me.” Her hands balled into fists at her sides and she stood. “I am descended from Oldlander kings, and they made me a servant to the New Kingdom royal family. I deserved a place on Old Kingdom’s throne!” She was breathing heavily, smoothing down her skirts. “But that is in the past. I rule New Kingdom now, and I will take both lands as payment for what I’ve suffered.”
She tapped the side of her mouth. “You too have lost what was rightfully yours… If you wish to remain in New Kingdom, I will consider it. As long as you agree to my conditions.”
She was hiding something—holding it over the heads of the Newlanders. Nothing else explained why the strong hadn’t lashed out for what she’d done, unleashing the disease on their land.
Fae could not lie. Whatever he agreed to, he must uphold. It was that or be sent back to Emain without Reese.
Or killed—either was a possibility.
Keen had ventured to New Kingdom knowing the danger it posed, but he’d sworn an oath to Elena, and he would keep it. “What are your conditions?”
Portia stepped around the chaise and rested her hands on the back. “You will remain Reese’s guardian—to keep her healthy, as you say—and to ensure she does not escape my land.”
He waited for her next condition, for there was surely more.
“We hail from the same place, you and I,” she continued. “Are you still an Oldlander, or has the human realm poisoned you?”
“I have no fealty to the human realm.” Some of the humans that reside there, yes, but not the realm itself.
“Good. My second condition is that you promise to keep me and mine safe…and third, when the time comes, you will do my bidding in Old Kingdom. If you promise me this, I will reward you with a return to our beloved homeland. You wish that, do you not?”
“I wish to protect my brethren in Old Kingdom,” Keen said cautiously.
“Yes, of course you do.” She grinned, but Portia smiled with teeth instead of eyes. “Follow my orders and I will ensure you return to our native land unharmed.”
“What of the girl?”
Portia strode to the window overlooking the palace yard. “Do not worry about the girl. She will remain safe as long as you abide by my wishes. Leave me now.” She flicked her hand over her head. “Return to the girl…or practice your swordplay with my guards. Whatever you wish. Just keep the girl out of my way.”
Keen could make certain Reese was safe, as he’d promised Elena, and walk out with his life by agreeing to Portia’s demands. Returning to Old Kingdom after so long held appeal, though not to do Portia’s bidding. But he would worry about that later. What bothered him now was why Portia wanted Reese. “She claims you told her she possesses powers.”
Portia looked over her shoulder, then slowly turned and faced him. “She remembered that, did she? The girl was more aware than I assumed.”
Marlon, who’d been silent throughout the conversation, stood and moved closer to Portia. Beatrice merely sat with her arms crossed.
“Reese Fisher is Marlon’s half-sister, Hakon Radnor’s daughter,” Portia said. “You are aware of Hakon’s claim to the Old Kingdom throne?”
Keen nodded woodenly.
“Only you, Keen, come before Hakon as heir to the throne, but you gave up the right to reign, did you not?”
There was no need to agree. She knew his history, as did all Fae.
“It was that or lose your life to Osulf Niall with the rest of your family. He spared you because you were an infant at the time. Most generous coming from Niall, who showed little mercy during his reign. Before you came of age, he had you swear an oath to never take the throne. Perhaps he allowed you to live because he knew you’d be a powerful ally and weapon one day? It’s that I am counting on.”
And here was the next part to Portia’s demand.
“Osulf is dead,” she said. “The rights to the throne you signed away when you came of age are nullified, and Old Kingdom needs a new leader.”
“Niall’s son, the Halven Derek, leads Old Kingdom now,” Keen needlessly informed her.
She visibly bristled. “And many do not agree that he is the rightful heir.”
That was not what Keen had heard. Portia did not want Derek in charge, but the Oldlanders were not so opposed to the Halven’s rule. Derek had made minor strides in winning them over and gaining the respect of his soldiers. It could have something to do with the magical strength he’d wielded in taking down his father.
“Reese will come into an ability,” Portia continued. “And Radnor will want his Halven daughter. I wish to leverage his desire.”
The ouroboros emblem Reese wore told Keen of her Fae parentage, but he’d hoped he was mistaken. “St. Just is also said to be Radnor’s Halven child, and he does not possess an ability. It is possible Reese will not either.”
Portia looked toward Marlon. The Halven nodded at her silent communication. “She will possess powers. Marlon has none to speak of, but he can tell human from Halven, and Halven from Fae. He has enough angel blood to detect magic, and he senses it with Reese. As do I. As do you.”
Keen did. He’d always sensed something unusual about Reese. He simply hadn’t wanted it to be so. “What ability do you anticipate in her?”
Portia raised one hand, palm up, and shrugged lightly. “That remains to be seen, does it not? She comes from a strong, noble line. There are many powers that could manifest—all, of course, mental abilities. You will watch Reese Fisher, and when she comes into her powers, you will inform me. Then, and only then, will I tell her father she is here. The girl turned eighteen six days ago. Her ability will manifest soon, if it has not already.”
Keen had managed to negotiate a way to remain in New Kingdom, where he could watch over Reese, but in doing so, he was giving up his freedom and binding himself to Portia. She also wanted him to betray the Halven Derek by helping her take over his land. Keen wasn’t opposed to returning to his homeland of Old Kingdom, but not at Portia’s bidding, and not as her puppet prince.
But he would not leave the girl. Not here, where she was sure to be used or killed.
He turned to leave.
“Ah, ah, ahh,” Portia said. “Aren’t you forgetting something?”
Keen stopped and faced her, catching the smirk on Beatrice’s face. He dropped to one knee. “I swear on my life to protect you.”
Portia smiled. “That will do for now.” Her smile dropped. “You may go. But don’t forget whom you answer to from now on. You are no longer an Emain soldier, or that silly Halven Elena’s bodyguard. Whatever oath you gave her is void—my Fae blood overrides it. You fight for me now.”
Reese glanced up as Keen entered the room, his handsome face tense with anger, his gaze focused inward.
Her stomach tightened. He’d gone to negotiate a way for her to return home, but by the expression on his face, things couldn’t have gone well. “What happened?”
He took her in for the first time since he’d
entered, and frowned even more, if that were possible. “What have you done to your dress?”
Reese glanced down. She’d tied the hem of her skirt into a knot. “I’m not Fae, Keen.”
He raised an eyebrow. “What does that have to do with the manipulation of your clothing?”
“I’m not six feet tall! This thing you gave me to wear was tripping me.”
He sank into one of the plush Louis XVI?—XVIII?—whatever—some ancient fancy chair. “Tying your dress up will not do,” he said. “You may not show your legs.”
“My shins—and why not? How prudish are you people?”
He pressed his thumb and forefinger to his forehead. “Do not argue with me right now. Do as I say and you might survive.”
She took in his slightly bowed shoulders. What exactly had happened in that meeting?
She walked over and touched his arm.
He flinched and glared at her. “Do not touch me.”
Heat suffused her face. She wrapped her arms around her waist and turned away. Keen had never been the soft sort, but his rejection hit home.
She’d been taken for granted, ignored, betrayed by men—why did she think Keen would behave any differently?
The way he’d held her with such tenderness this morning didn’t matter. Or that it had felt like the most natural thing she’d ever experienced. She was a burden to him and he didn’t want her around.
“Your father is Hakon Radnor,” Keen said, drawing her attention. “Radnor is part of a noble Fae line. He would have ruled Old Kingdom had Osulf Niall not defeated him in a battle that nearly killed his entire family—a practice Niall was known for in his campaign to gain power.”
Reese looked over her shoulder. His expression was serious. “A nobleman? Elena is a Fae princess, or her mother is. How is it possible I am one too? How many noble Fae can there be?”
“You are not a princess; Radnor does not rule Old Kingdom at the moment. And Elena’s mother, Theodora Rainer, is the rightful queen of New Kingdom, not merely a princess. However, to answer your question, there are little more than a handful of families between the two kingdoms with noble blood.”
Reese sank onto the edge of the large bed. “Are you sure that man is my father? Maybe there’s been some mistake.”
“Portia, the woman you described? She is currently leading New Kingdom. Though the crown rightfully belongs to Elena’s mother, Portia took control of New Kingdom while the disease weakened our realm. She is ruthless and ambitious. She would not make a mistake regarding your parentage. She feels it will benefit her to keep you near. And the bracelet you wear… The gold charm is your father’s.”
Reese shook her head. “It could be a coincidence that my mother gave me a charm that happens to be some Fae dude’s emblem.”
Keen gave her a mocking look. “It is identical to the unique ouroboros design of Hakon Radnor’s house. You are also Halven and coming into your powers. There is no mistake.”
She was Halven and her father—a Fae who would have been king—was from Old Kingdom?
This was insane.
Reese swallowed the fear threatening to choke her, and gave him a false grin. “You think I’ll develop some amazing ability like Elena? I’d love to be able to manipulate fire and singe a few jackasses who’ve crossed me over the years.”
Keen frowned, and even Reese couldn’t hold on to the smile.
She stood and paced in front of him. “I don’t understand how this even came to be. You hate me, and I’m getting the feeling that Halven aren’t highly esteemed, in general. Why do your people come near humans if we’re detested? Why mate with us to begin with?”
“I do not hate you.” His eyes were intent, something she couldn’t read hidden in their depths. Then his gaze flickered away. “As to your question of mating, some Fae are led astray and find humans attractive. Your father sired you and Marlon after his battle with Niall, when he was particularly vulnerable after losing so many of his family. The only reason Radnor returned to this realm was for his daughter—his Fae daughter. I’ve heard Radnor is more stable in this last decade. It is possible he would challenge Elena’s friend Derek for the throne.”
Reese froze in her pacing. “What throne? And what the what? Derek—our hot neighbor—is Halven too?”
Keen’s gaze flashed to her and he stood. He strode closer. Too close, the jerk. He didn’t want her to touch him, but he could crowd her space?
She stepped back.
“Derek and Elena were in Tirnan to create a cure for the disease. Elena succeeded, but they nearly lost Derek. He is the Halven son of the previous king of Old Kingdom, Osulf Niall. He was Niall’s only child, and the king did not wish to release him. Niall would have killed Elena if Derek hadn’t taken his father’s life. As Niall’s only living child, Halven or not, Derek now rules Old Kingdom.”
Reese rubbed her forehead. “Derek is Halven?”
“We established that, yes,” he said, exasperated.
Reese stepped away and stared out the window at the men milling in the massive courtyard below. They looked like toy soldiers from this vantage point. Hundreds of them. But they weren’t small. They were seven-foot Fae warriors prepared to maim—to kill. “Why didn’t Elena tell me about Derek?” She cut her hand through the air. “Never mind. She was protecting me—I get it.” Reese spun around. “How many Halven are there? And how can we all be descended from noble Fae?”
Keen returned to his chair and sank into it. “There aren’t as many Halven as you might think. We persuade young Halven to attend Dawson through scholarships and other means. Once there, Halven with potential powers are assigned to the dorm you live in.”
Her eyes widened. “Are you kidding me? You’re saying they herded us there?”
He shrugged lazily. “It was an efficient way to keep track of you. Though not all in your dorm are Halven. The Emain scientists mixed in regular students to maintain an appearance of normalcy. Halven tend to be taller than the average human. Only the scientists knew who was Halven and who was not. I didn’t know you were one when I was assigned to protect your roommate.”
Reese began pacing again, her arms swinging in agitation. “You all suck, you know that? Why didn’t your people just come to us? Tell us what we are?”
“As I said, there was no guarantee you would manifest abilities. A Halven without abilities is useless and no threat.”
She stopped abruptly. “Right, like Marlon was no threat? He doesn’t have abilities and he created the only virus capable of killing Fae.”
Keen ran a hand down his face. “We were not prepared for that. However, St. Just had Portia, a powerful Fae, at his side. Many others helped him as well.”
“Well, I’m not here to help Portia. I won’t help her, no matter how long she keeps me in this place. She might as well let me go.”
He sat forward, forearms on his thighs. “That will not happen. You must be patient until we negotiate a release.”
Keen had saved her—ass that he was. He might push her away, but in some twisted fashion, he’d also been there for her.
Reese had to listen to him. It wasn’t like she could get out of here on her own. Not with hundreds of toy soldiers surrounding the grounds. “How long do I have to wait?”
He threaded his fingers dangling between his knees. “I don’t know.”
She peered around in blind exasperation. “Well, what do we do while you’re figuring it out?”
He lifted his head. “We wait for your powers to manifest, and pray they are not powerful.”
“And if they are powerful?”
“If they are…Portia will use you, whether you want her to or not.”
5
Keen must have gotten the hint about Reese’s clothes being too long, because soon after he left for guard duty, or whatever he did around this place, a team of seamstresses flooded her room. The women poked and measured, showing her dozens of fabric swatches. Reese prayed it was for something practical like jeans and
a comfortable shirt, but the fabrics they presented didn’t look cozy, or even stretchy. They looked shimmery and elegant. Which would have been fun back home, but not here amid the Fae and their dungeons.
What was with dressing her up like a Victorian doll? It was one thing for her to wear the dresses her mom bought for her back home. They were on the sexy side, but they were fun, and Reese loved her mom. The Fae taste in women’s clothing sucked.
Reese stood still while the women did their thing. She was in nothing but a flowing white undergarment that was thin but covered her from collarbone to knee. So basically, she was clothed beneath the clothing she’d eventually wear. She’d hate to see what they wore for bathing suits.
A light rap sounded, and the large wooden door to her room opened.
Ulric entered, his eyes darting away at the sight of her. “You are well?” He stared at the wall, seemingly embarrassed.
Reese shook her head. She wasn’t fully dressed, but she was wearing her potato sack underwear. Ulric hadn’t had a problem with her tight, short dress when she’d been in the dungeon, yet now he blushed?
“Are you talking about after you starved and nearly froze me to death?” she asked.
He turned to her and his handsome mouth pulled back in discomfort. “I did not know you were so…fragile. Please forgive me.”
So far, Marlon and Portia, and even Keen, at times, acted as if she were inferior. Why would Ulric care how he’d treated her? “Are you trying to gain information by being nice to me? Because I’ll tell you right now, I know nothing.”
His eyebrows drew together, and suddenly Reese experienced something that made her think she hadn’t fully recovered from her dungeon stay.
She couldn’t tell by his expression—yet somehow she sensed sincere guilt for the way he’d treated her in the cell.
“I will leave you to your—” He waved his hand vaguely at the fabrics. “I merely wished to apologize for how I enacted my orders. I should have confirmed your—uh—needs.”
Fates Entwined Page 4
