Apparently Stella had missed a round of royal matchmaking at the ball the evening before. Thank Moranu that Jak had spirited her away.
The ensuing bustle of everyone being seated and beverages served took up everyone’s attention. Stella found herself at the queen’s right hand at the large round table, Prince Wilhelm beside her. Astar flanked Cavan on the other side of the king, with Zeph beside him—Stella breathed an internal sigh of relief that Cavan and Nix recognized Astar’s engagement—and Princess Marjolein sat on Zeph’s left. Rhy sat beside Marjolein, looking bemused by her opening flirtations. Lena had been seated on the other side of Prince Wilhelm, likely in an effort to allow him to charm both apparently eligible princesses.
Jak had been placed next to Lena, and Gen sat on the other side of Rhy. Gen looked decidedly glum at how they’d been distributed according to rank and marriageability. Stella would have to talk with Gen after breakfast. Hopefully Jak didn’t mind his exile to the far end of the circle, though he seemed cheerful enough. He caught her looking, dimpled at her, and held up the whiskey a servant had brought to go in his coffee, pouring some into Gen’s tea before she could stop him.
Stella laughed softly. Zeph had a flute of sparkling wine and was happily sipping it. That was good. Everyone might as well enjoy staying at least the two nights at Marcellum. They all could certainly use a day of rest and indulgence. Perhaps she and Jak could retire to his room again, and… The horse caught her eye.
It was absolutely real and present, despite prancing through an intimate dining hall, shimmering with ethereal magic and transparent as a ghost. The servants set plates before them—an unusual dish of fluffy bread that had been dipped in some sort of crunchy batter and fried, served with berries and a dark, sweet syrup—and Stella sampled hers, finding it delicious and herself ravenous. She began eating, while keeping an eye on the ghost horse.
“You see her, don’t you?” Queen Nix smiled when Stella jumped. “My horse, Falada,” she clarified. “You see her as well as I do. I should have guessed you would, being of Salena’s line.”
“Are you a sorceress?” Stella asked, not quite willing to acknowledge Nix’s canny guesses.
The queen gave her a knowing look for the diplomatic dodge. “Nothing like my mother was. Isyn is named for her and holds her throne now. The magic in the Isles of Remus is different from here. Falada is fae. Though her mortal body was sadly murdered long ago, she remains with me in ethereal form. Such is her loyalty to me.”
Falada had come over to them, silently whuffling Nix’s ivory hair and canting her head to give Stella an assessing look.
“Ah,” Nix breathed, nodding. “I agree, and I’m glad to hear it. She likes you,” Nix said to Stella, “and she’s agreed to accompany you to find our son.”
~ 22 ~
“Is King Isyn missing?” Jak heard Stella ask of Queen Nix. She spoke quietly enough that Jak might not have heard her over the general hubbub of the meal, if he hadn’t had most of his attention trained on Stella. At least that too-pretty Prince Wilhelm wasn’t trying to charm her at the moment. Jak had been distracting himself with jollying Gen out of her dour mood, telling her that the presence of available whiskey proved they weren’t actually sitting at the table intended for little kids.
He wasn’t the only one to hear the question, everyone falling silent, King Cavan giving his queen a resigned look. “I believe ‘missing’ would be putting it too strongly,” he said.
“I never said Isyn was missing,” Nix returned evenly, holding her ground despite her ethereal appearance. “I said he needed to be found. Falada has agreed to go with them.”
The king’s brows rose nearly to the bottom of his crown, Wilhelm and Marjolein becoming exceptionally attentive. “She has?” King Cavan tendered, as if not quite believing what he’d heard.
“She has,” Queen Nix confirmed, no doubt in her voice or expression. “It’s time, Cavan,” she said more softly. “He’s never been out of contact for this long. Ever since that magical eclipse, there’s been nothing from the Isles. If anyone can find him, Falada can.”
Cavan cast an uncomfortable glance at their attentive audience. “Their Highnesses Prince Astar and Princess Stella have come to us on a pleasure journey, and Prince Astar already explained to us that the eclipse was nothing unusual.”
“I’m sure that diplomatic explanation worked in most of the places our guests have visited,” Queen Nix observed tartly, “and I don’t blame Her Majesty for wishing to spread a soothing tale to calm fears. I know better, however. I’m sure it’s no coincidence that magic rifts have opened between worlds at the same time an unprecedented eclipse occurred, and that the crown prince arrives on our doorstep wishing to visit the epicenter of the problem.” She leveled a gimlet stare on Astar. “Is it?”
Astar cleared his throat. “Ah, no.” He inclined his head to Queen Nix—and seemed to receive some message from Stella that decided him. “It’s no coincidence. The seven of us have been specifically selected by Her Majesty, on the advice of Queen Andromeda, to travel to the Isles of Remus and discover the source of the problem. And hopefully remedy it.”
King Cavan considered that with some consternation, though Queen Nix only nodded. “Sailing to the Isles will be no easy task, as I’m sure Andromeda foresaw, especially at this time of year, but if anyone can guide you there, Falada can.”
Stella met Jak’s inquiring gaze across the table, her eyes crystalline with intrigue. Whatever was going on, it had caught Stella’s interest.
“I beg your indulgence, Your Highnesses,” Astar said, his gaze going around the table as if he’d missed an introduction, “but who is Falada?”
Stella knew. Jak could see that much in her face. Everyone else, however, looked equally mystified.
“A friend,” Queen Nix replied. “Her Highness Princess Stella is able to see her, though I believe only she and I can.” She sighed, an old sorrow in it, and Cavan put his hand over hers, squeezing it.
“Princess Stella can see Falada?” Marjolein demanded, sounding most put out. Not that she’d been chipper all through breakfast, casting longing glances at Astar and resentful ones at the oblivious Zeph. Jak would put good money down that Princess Marjolein was on the infamous list Her Majesty had pressed on Astar, of approved princesses to wear the engagement ring Zeph now flashed at Marjolein.
Perhaps Zeph wasn’t so oblivious after all. Jak could hardly blame her for wanting to make her claim on Astar’s affections perfectly clear. Jak would be happy to take pretty-boy Wilhelm down a few notches himself. Stella, however, true to form—Danu, he loved that woman—seemed to barely notice Wilhelm’s existence, much less pay attention to the youth’s extravagant compliments.
With a start, Jak realized Wilhelm was likely no younger than he was, though Jak felt positively ancient compared to the pampered princeling. Good thing he and Stella had skipped most of the ball the night before. Watching Stella dance with Wilhelm might’ve been more than he could take. As it was, he’d like to hurl a dagger or two at him. Not to kill or maim. Maybe just knock the fork out of his hand that he was waving so extravagantly through the air as the princeling expounded on fae magic, Marjolein’s question having opened a flood of excited conversation. It would be easy to do. Likely he could be fast enough the princeling wouldn’t know what hit him.