Frostbound Throne: Court of Sin Book Two: Song of Winter

by Sage, May

  Still, she kept quiet, because Elden wasn’t wrong. If Kallan was alive, there was no doubt that Kira would find him. The only question was, what would she do to him when she did?

  “Wait, you have a twin sister? How come I’m only hearing of it now?” Valerius asked.

  Devi pointed out, “You didn’t ask.”

  “Seriously? Consider this my asking anything of relevance whatsoever about your family tree.”

  She gave it a good thought. “That’s about it. One dead mother, one unstable twin sister, and a pain in the ass of a father. Although, I’d say that’s rich coming from the son of Orin and brother to a couple of murderous warlords.”

  “That doesn’t count,” Vale argued. “I didn’t know about the second brother.”

  “Children, if you’re done with the domestic dispute, I have orders to send and matters to consider. Shoo. Supper is at sundown in the dining room, if you care to join me, and I’ll see you at dawn, when I shall uphold my end of our bargain, young Valerius.”

  They were dismissed. Devi left the garden, marching down a sinuous path to the city of her youth, and Valerius followed her steps.

  Five

  A Fairy Dance

  All in all, Vale left the king’s gardens satisfied with the outcome.

  He couldn’t deny his surprise that the man had helped their enemy, but at the core, he understood Elden. The unseelie had been attacked and thereby forced onto one side, but there was no doubt that in the same position, Vale would have acted like the elf lord, in order to guarantee the prosperity of his realm.

  Devi disapproved, but Vale guessed she also understood her father’s decision.

  “An interesting scion, your father,” he said to break the silence as he trailed after her on the uneven snowy path.

  “That he certainly is.”

  He coaxed a few other words here and there, but Devi was troubled, he could tell. Vale itched to reach out through his mind to see why. The dark prince was still there, right under the surface, and he saw nothing wrong with invading her thoughts. Perhaps the time had come to seal him away again, now they were safe.

  Vale balked at the idea. The term safe was loosely applicable to his current situation. He was in unfamiliar territory, surrounded by strangers. He needed to keep his edge. Or perhaps he just wanted to.

  He didn’t seal his volatile alter-ego, but he stopped himself from reading Devi’s thoughts, forcing his attention away by observing their surroundings.

  As they went farther down the mountain, the surrounding landscape changed. Rocks were polished at first, then also sculpted. By the time they arrived at the bottom of the anfractuous path, it was paved and flanked by graceful statues of elves. Before them lay the city of winter, thus called because it always snowed that high up in the mountain.

  Valerius would have imagined empty streets, wood chalets with sloping roofs, and wide eaves poking out of the houses; it only made sense given the weather. The northern parts of the unseelie realm that endured colder winters, like the villages outside of Carvenstone, boasted such structures.

  The elven city was the opposite. High columns, flat roofs, open halls with no wall. A crowd of younglings and elders, who conversed pleasantly and sometimes sang or danced, had gathered outside. Was anyone ever displeased in this white wonderland? There were smiles and laughter at every corner.

  None of them wore anything half as warm as Valerius’s coat, yet they seemed quite comfortable. Meanwhile, Valerius wished he had also worn gloves and a scarf.

  Vale had been about to ask Devi whether every elf was impervious to cold when the crowd turned to them and gasped as one. A hush had fallen over the elves.

  “The young lady!” they said.

  Others cried, “The winter fae!”

  The elves approached Devi, who seemed rather awkward but unsurprised.

  “We heard of the attack and feared the worst, for a time,” said an elf sadly.

  “Mistress Kira was furious,” someone else announced. “Sir Elden had to send her away on duty, for she talked of joining the war should any harm have befallen you.”

  By this, Valerius gathered that Devi’s mysterious sister had a fiery temper.

  Everyone rushed to tell her how glad they were that she was here, safe. Most ignored Valerius, others bowed their heads in salute, but for all it mattered, he might as well have been completely absent.

  He wondered if it was how Kallan felt next to him. Invisible. If so, how the devil had his old friend put up with him for so long?

  Devi was quick to reassure her anxious admirers, professing she was just fine. In her efforts to minimize the danger she’d been in, she made it sound as though their journey to Wyhmur had been a pleasant stroll.

  A young child pulled at Devi’s shirt, and the female kneeled to her level.

  “Hello, little one.”

  “Say, mistress, is it true you can ride the fall? Mama says you can.”

  “And your mama’s right.”

  Valerius had no clue what riding the fall entailed, but the child was impressed.

  An elf told her there would be songs at the city hall, and the gathering begged her to attend. She smiled pleasantly, assuring them she couldn’t think of a better way to spend her evening; then she was off, following them.

  Vale remained where he stood, feeling positively out of place.

  The little child who’d talked to Devi looked at him as though he were an oddity. Finally, she declared, “You should come too, you know. You look like you could use some music.”

  Amused, he asked, “And why is that?”

  “Because you seem very grave and grumpy. Dadda says that’s how you get white hair. This way, Mr. Fae.” With those words, she took his hand and led him after the crowd.

  He had received no formal invitation, but no one protested either.

  The city hall was a large, open space supported by four columns, not unlike the Square of Dawn. A platform had been erected at the center, and every elf present sat around it. A youngling was perched atop one of the four columns, where he could catch a better view.

  Now that she’d led him to the party, the child dashed into the crowd, leaving him alone and, again, feeling awkward. He considered leaving, but an elf on his right asked, “Have you ever heard our songs, fae?”

  “Elden was playing just an hour ago. Rather beautifully,” he added.

  The elf laughed. “The king is known to be a poor performer, although one cannot fault him for practicing. Stay and listen, stranger. It’ll do you good to witness what beauty comes when war and malice have no place.”

  And so he stayed. Without fanfare, a male walked onto the platform and started to sing.

  The deep baritone was slow and meaningful. Vale wasn’t familiar with the words—it wasn’t a language he’d ever heard—but it spoke to his very soul. It was the story of a love lost to time and found again; he sang of hope. The song was over too soon for Vale’s liking, although the sun had fallen behind the mountain, which meant the singer had been at it for some time. The elf took a bow, and the crowd bowed back in silence. Other elves stepped forward, either to sing or play an instrument they’d carried into the hall with them; various strings and winds, all played so well that even the dark prince was at peace for a time.

  One after another, dozens of strangers took the stage and spoke to his heart. Vale understood why the elf had told him Elden was a poor musician, although the king might have belonged in any unseelie concerto; those performing that evening were all so incredibly gifted.

  “What do you think, fae?” asked the male who’d talked to him earlier during one of the breaks.

  Many elves were shamelessly eavesdropping on their conversation; he could guess it was a matter of national pride. He didn’t disappoint them.

  “That I could easily remain here listening to your kind’s music for the rest of my days and forget everything else.”

  They were quite satisfied with his answer and happy to play some more
for him. Soon, someone handed him nectar, and another fae thrust a plate into his hand.

  Seated a couple of rows in front of him, Devi turned to him and smiled pleasantly.

  “You came with the princess,” said the elf who’d been the first to welcome him.

  Vale could tell everyone was paying attention now.

  “I did.”

  “And you live with her in the Court of Night. Is she happy there? We hope she might be.”

  “I don’t know,” he had to admit. “I met her recently. My home is Carvenstone.”

  He had to hold back a sigh as he said it, expecting the usual backlash that came with the admission of living in the Court of Sin, the judgmental eyes and the unspoken accusation.

  Every elf within hearing range—most of the assembled—turned to him, obvious awe on their features. Confused, Devi stared at Vale as he shifted uncomfortably.

  “Whispers have reached us from Carvenstone. Interesting whispers,” said the elf.

  Valerius stiffened.

  “They say the wild creatures of the world have a home there. They say everyone may occupy whatever office they are qualified for, by order of its lord. There are lesser fae practicing law and children riding unicorns, which would have been hunted and killed for their horns anywhere else. They say the dark fae who rules over these lands is the greatest lord of this age.”

  Well, shit.

  Devi’s eyes were the size of saucers, and her mouth hung open.

  Valerius sighed. “Who talks of this? There’s a reason why what happens in Carvenstone is kept secret. It works because the outside world leaves us alone.”

  Their world had changed, but if there ever was a tomorrow for the unseelie realm, Vale’s duty was to ensure the safety of his people.

  “What you do in your land has attracted much curiosity from the old creatures of this world, young master.” So, he wasn’t “fae” anymore, by the sound of it. “You may have had one or two wandering sorcerers disguised in the shape of fae under your roof. And phoenix have flown close to see it with their own eyes. And the dragons also know of your deeds. We’re friends with such folk, and they’ve brought us tales.”

  Tension eased from his shoulders. As long as they didn’t report his actions to his mother or her courtiers, all would be well.

  Shea may not be against his management of Carvenstone—not really. She was good at heart. But she was also queen to a court of bigots who’d rail against his methods and rush to his lands, armed with spears and bows.

  “Fear not, word of this will never leave these woods.”

  “I appreciate your discretion.”

  “I am Gaer of the high council. You may call me friend.”

  Offers of friendship were rare from high elves. Vale knew to value it. “I go by Vale. And likewise.”

  The elf smiled wickedly. “And among other accounts, the whispers also say the lord of Carvenstone plays almost as well as an elf.”

  “As for that, I can attest that it’s a complete exaggeration.” Vale laughed with good humor.

  Too much time had passed since he’d been able to just talk and laugh freely. War still loomed on the morrow, but the music had washed his cares away for a night, allowing him to find some peace.

  “If you think Elden plays poorly, you’ll need to stuff wax in your ears to put up with my music.”

  The elves would hear none of it. Now that they knew he played an instrument, nothing but a performance would satisfy them. In no time, Vale found himself pushed before the steps leading up the platform, a beautiful violin in his hands.

  He shook his head in amusement and walked up the steps.

  He was no elf, and their soulful music was far beyond his capabilities; instead of attempting to imitate the songs they appeared to favor, Vale chose to show them a peek of his world.

  Long ago, according to a children’s tale, a lesser fae once scorned had enchanted his song so that all those who heard it would be cursed to dance for an eternity. Vale didn’t know where the story had come from, but the song ascribed to it was called “The Fairy Dance.” Only those who were proficient enough to play nuances at a high speed and with dexterity were taught it. Vale had learned the song in his youth, and the last time he’d played had been at the end of the war centuries ago, but he recalled it well enough and improvised the rest.

  It was a three-step. Vale gave little credence to the fairy tale, but he’d never played the song to an indifferent audience; the fae always danced to it. He closed his eyes as he struck the familiar chords; when he opened them again, he smiled at the two hundred elves on their feet, dancing and clapping to his enchanting notes.

  There were no thoughts of war and sadness for the night.

  Six

  Fire and Shadows

  Nothing made sense where Valerius Blackthorn was concerned. She’d believed she’d known who he was from the start, but instead of a mercurial beast, he’d proved to be a slightly arrogant, teasing male who treated her like an equal. Someone she’d found entirely impossible to dislike, infuriating as he was.

  Back in the Valley of Doom, she’d heard that he’d come to the aid of a dragon in his lands. In the short time they’d spent together, she’d come to understand there were many layers he hid from the world. And now this? What the elves said of the Court of Sin blew her mind.

  She was ashamed to admit she’d never seen it coming. Despite everything she’d learned over the last few days, Devi had believed the talk. The Court of Sin was rumored to be a house of depravity and indulgence, home to the dark prince, whose temper was feared throughout the realm. But it turned out Vale maintained a front to protect the despised or hunted.

  Nothing he’d ever done or said had prepared her for that. She understood why he kept his deeds under wraps. If what Gaer had said was true and Vale allowed any fae to take whatever work they were qualified for, he was going directly against the idiotic laws of castes, which determined the limitations of lesser and common fae. As unseelie nobility, she was familiar with the laws; she’d often spoken up against them, to no avail.

  Devi felt rather strange whenever she looked at Valerius now. Confused. A little shy, perhaps. Ashamed of not having looked past the surface when all the clues had been there. She saw it now. He’d never truly put on a façade with her, showing her glimpses of who he was every time they talked, as if daring her to believe in him.

  Then the elves had practically forced him onto the platform, and he’d played masterfully, with love and passion, unveiling yet another facet she’d never known existed. She had to admit, if there was one thing she knew about Valerius Blackthorn, it was that she didn’t know him at all. And no surprise there, since their acquaintance had been so short.

  Devi remembered Healer Beck’s warning that the prince was quite irresistible, that he was more than a crown or a handsome face. She should have listened.

  Vale was begged to keep playing after his first song, and then the crowd insisted on another, until they’d danced and laughed most of the night away.

  Vale and Devi were creatures of the night, but they’d both had trying days; his fatigue didn’t prevent him from playing like a virtuoso, but he had trouble keeping his eyes open, so the elves refrained from demanding another song. Devi walked to the platform.

  “Hey, I figured you might need a guide to get back up to the house,” she said.

  Not the best excuse, perhaps. Elden’s keep, a fortress of black stone, dominated the city, standing tall and proud higher up the mountain.

  She added, “I mean, to the guest quarters. It’s a big place.”

  Valerius was kind enough to cut her rambling short.

  “Appreciated,” he replied, smiling as he handed the musical instrument he’d borrowed to its owner, a male Devi remembered from her days in the Winter Court.

  The elf refused to touch it, protesting, “Such music has never been played on these chords, and I fear my instrument may resent me should I take it from you. You will keep this violin.
”

  Vale laughed. “Nonsense. Besides, I’ll soon be gone to places where one does not carry such joyful things.”

  “It is in the darkest places where music matters most.”

  Devi intervened, “Know a lost battle when you see one, Vale. Telenar insists.”

  The elf’s expression lifted as he turned to her. “It warms my heart to hear you recall my name after all this time, my lady.”

  She chuckled awkwardly. Her selective memory never forgot the names and faces that might come in handy. Telenar, as the general of her father’s northern armies and a member of his high council, certainly qualified.

  They took their leave after exchanging pleasantries. Walking up the path they’d taken earlier, Devi felt infinitely more awkward.

  Finally, she forced herself to open her mouth, if only to fill the silence. “Funny how you complain of my forgetting to mention a thing or two, all the while concealing anything of relevance about you,” she told him, one brow lifted in challenge.

  “Touché. In my defense, I am seven hundred and thirty-eight. If I took to reciting my attributes to everyone I met, I’d be known as Vale the Tedious rather than the dark prince. Doesn’t have as nice a ring to it, now does it? Besides, one must retain a certain air of mystery to entirely deserve such a name.”

  She rolled her eyes. “There’s keeping some things private and then there’s purposely hiding everything you are.” As that sounded too much like an accusation, she was quick to add, “I get it. What you’re doing in Carvenstone wouldn’t work if everyone poked their noses in your business.”

  She just would have liked if he’d told her about it. But she’d sooner pull out her own fingernails with pincers than admit to this.

  They’d arrived at Elden’s keep, seeing it in all its splendor. The limestone edifice stretched along the mountainside, built around a waterfall that started at the summit and dove all the way down to a lake at its base.