Love. It’s such a strange word to hear from a male’s mouth like that.
Finn chuckles. “Not like that, Princess. He’s my brother, in the way that we chose to be family. I love him. I will kill for him. I will die for him. And I will set this world on fire if it tries to hurt him.”
I hate that I’m envious of that. I can’t remember the last time I knew such a concept.
No. I do. I remember my childhood with Andraste. Fingers clasped around a tree as we danced in circles around it, singing ‘The oaks fall down, the oaks fall down….’
Laughing and giggling with her as we rolled in the grass and picked daisies, turning them into crowns we placed on each other’s heads.
I would have died to protect that. To protect her.
But then the night came when Mother caught Nanny Redwyne reading stories to us from the book she’d banned. Stories of the old creatures who ruled Arcaedia before the fae arrived.
The Green Man that made the lands of Asturia bloom long before my mother’s ancestors came to power. Bloody Mara, who protects women against all who prey on them, and whose name could be called three times when one was in need. The Erlking, who ruled the fearful Wild Hunt which rode the forests on Samhain, and yet who could be appealed upon for his justice. His mercy.
Wondrous tales of ancient creatures that made me terribly curious about those who lived her before the fae.
Forbidden tales.
And I asked for them. I begged and Nanny hesitated, but eventually she gave in and slipped the book into my room of nights, where she’d hide it beneath my mattress during the day.
Until my mother suddenly appeared in the door, as if she’d been waiting for precisely this moment.
“Since you heed not my royal proclamations,” my mother had hissed as her guards pinned Nanny to the ground, “then it seems I must ensure they are heard by all who see you. Your eyes shall never read such blasphemy again. Your tongue shall not proclaim it. And your ears will not hear it.”
And then she made me watch as Nanny screamed and screamed and screamed while the soldiers removed those offending pieces of her.
That was the night I knocked over a candle and nearly burned half the tower down.
That was the night my fledgling magic snuffed itself out.
And that was the night Andraste was torn away from me, our lessons separated, our rooms moved to opposing wings of the castle.
That was the night my mother first looked at me with cold disdain.
The last time I dared love someone—the last time I was loved—was eight years ago now.
“Hey.” A gentle hand curls over mine. “Are you okay?”
I let go of the breath I’ve been holding, tears pricking in my eyes. “I was just thinking about… what it would be like to live in a kingdom where you could trust your ruler.”
Finn bites his lip. It feels weird to be holding hands like this with a stranger in the darkened chambers of my mother’s tent. It feels strange to trust him.
But I do.
Instantly.
Even more so than I trusted Thiago—perhaps because Thiago represents a seductive threat to me on some level, whereas Finn is simply… a charming stranger. A likeable stranger.
“I can kidnap you when I leave,” he says. “Put my knife against your throat and drag you out of here and make it clear you’re not coming with me of your own volition.” There’s a sudden twinkle in his eyes. “Maybe it will give you a chance to see if my prince is ‘kind’ enough for you.”
“That sounds like a terrible plan.”
“But you’re tempted—"
I don’t know what it is that alerts me, because there’s no noise. But I have a sudden, wretched feeling we’re no longer alone.
“Stay still. Don’t move. Don’t say anything,” I hiss in his ear, stealing the dirk from his hands.
“What’s going on?”
I scramble through a slit in the canvas walls, finding myself in what appears to be Mother’s wardrobe. Slipping beneath the enormous drape of the skirt on one of her dresses, I crouch low and peek out from under the hem.
Finn clearly realizes what I’m doing because he sits up straighter.
Just in time.
The tent flaps fling open and an enormous shadow appears.
Edain.
My stepbrother freezes in the opening to this section of the tent, his gaze raking the shadows. Every inch of him is coiled with tension; a predator just waiting to strike. Just my luck. He may have changed the wards on the cage, but something must have set them off.
“What’s wrong, pretty boy?” Finn taunts abruptly. “Come to find your balls? I believe your queen has them locked away in a chest in her room.”
Edain cuts him a look, and then stalks inside, his shadow rippling over the walls as he lifts his torch high. “Who’s been in here?”
“Me and all my merry friends.”
Through the linen, I see Edain’s lip curl in frustration as he sets the torch in its ring. “Someone was picking the lock on your cage. I set wards within it.”
Finn holds up a hair pin. “Can’t blame a lad for trying.”
Edain snatches it. “Where did you get this?”
“Have you seen the elaborate coiffures your queen wears?” Finn gives him an arrogant look. “Maybe you didn’t notice when she shook them from her hair last night, but I did.”
Edain lashes through the cage and grabs a fistful of his shirt. He swiftly pats him down.
“Here now,” Finn protests. “A man likes a little sweet talk first.” He flinches as Edain’s hands slide through his back pockets. “The real weapon’s in the front.”
Edain freezes.
Their faces are inches from each other, and I’m trying not to breathe under my nest of skirts.
Fuck. This is awkward.
They stare at each other through the bars on the cage, and then Finn shivers. “Stop looking at me like that, Pet. Your queen wouldn’t approve if she caught you feeling me up like a lecherous barmaid.”
“Maybe I should have let her whip you bloody,” Edain says in disgust as he sinks back onto his knees. “You have a mouth on you.”
“Oh, I do.” They’re still staring at each other. “Want to try it?”
Finn bursts out laughing as Edain shoves to his feet, scrubbing at his mouth.
“I’m starting to realize why your prince hasn’t made a counteroffer yet,” Edain says. “Maybe he doesn’t want you back. Maybe we’ve done him a favor.”
It cuts through Finn’s laughter. “My prince doesn’t negotiate with blackmailers.”
“How’s that make you feel?” Edain sneers. “You’re worthless to him.”
Finn merely crosses his legs and rests his hands on his thighs. “I know my worth,” he says simply. “Do you?”
There’s a stillness within Edain. For all that he appears to hold the upper hand, I can see Finn scored first blood.
“Whether you know your own worth or not,” he finally says, “if your prince doesn’t give us what we want, then she will kill you. Slowly. Painfully.”
“You mean she’ll make you kill me. Slowly. Painfully.”
Edain gives him a long, heated look.
Finn sighs. “You hate it, don’t you? What’s she have on you?”