“An airgead for your thoughts,” he said with a slight smile.
“I miss home.”
He nodded. “I do, too.”
“You should see the night skies there, Lorcan. There are thousands of stars. Every single one is as bright as the sun, or so it feels when they are all out poking holes in the dark.” She sighed and pulled a deep breath into her lungs. “And the scent of winter. It is like nothing else I have ever smelled. It is crisp and bright and so, so clear. I want to jump into a pile of snow and bury myself deep within it. I want to feel the cold again.”
“You will,” he said softly.
“Will I?” She looked to him then with those piercing silver eyes. He felt her pain in the very depths of his soul. “Why can I lie, Lorcan? I am an ice fae, am I not? Tell me how I can feel the way I do and not be one with the ice? It is in my bones.”
“I have never met an ice fae who is more of an ice fae than you are. You’re right. It’s in your bones and in your heart. If a fae could breathe ice, then I am certain you would be the one to do it.”
She grinned. “Like dragons breathe fire?”
His heart lightened at her sudden smile. “The most ferocious of dragons.”
She sighed happily and dropped her head onto his shoulder. “I would like to meet a dragon one day.”
“It would bite your head off.”
“I’d like to see it try.”
“Reyna, I want you to cut out my mark.”
She lifted her head from his shoulder, her gaze suddenly sharp. “Did you just say what I think you said?”
“Yes, but only if you’re still willing to do it.”
“It would be an honor for me to cut that damn magic out of your arm.” She reached up and cupped his cheek. “You’re certain about this? That magic has been inside of you for a very long time, controlling you. It doesn’t want to leave you either. It will try to fight this.” She pressed her lips together. “This will hurt you, Lorcan. I imagine quite a lot.”
“Nollaig will have brought some spirits with her,” he replied. “She always does.”
“I’m not certain how much spirits will help in this instance.”
“I know what I’m getting myself into, Reyna.” He leaned forward and curled his fingers against the rough stone beneath them, the memories pressing in tight around him. Everything he had been forced to do, and everything he had been forced not to do. His father had controlled him for so long. It was time to break free.
Already, the mark had begun to pulse, anticipating the intrusion.
Reyna had already jumped to her feet. She strode toward the fire with a fierce determination in the set of her spine. “Nollaig. I’m going to carve that damn mark out of Lorcan’s shoulder. You in?”
“You bet I am.” Nollaig pushed up from the ground, leaving her half-eaten potato behind. She went straight to her stash of spirits without being asked, pouring a large shot into a tin mug she’d brought along. She shoved it into Lorcan’s hands. “Drink that up, Your Highness. You’re going to need it.”
Lorcan tipped it into his throat in one fluid motion. It burned as it went down. He slammed the tin mug on the ground and growled, “Another.”
Nollaig poured without comment, and then handed him the mug again.
“How much do you think this is going to hurt?” he asked her after he’d taken the second shot.
“I think it’s going to feel like your eyeballs are being ripped out of your head.” A pause. “So, that would be a lot.”
Lorcan scowled. “You know you have the ability to lie, Nollaig.”
“Do you want me to lie?”
“Not really.”
“Good.” Nollaig settled down in front of him with a third and final shot. For now, at least. “Listen. I don’t know how this is going to go. No one else with marks has ever tried this before, and there’s a reason I never offered to do it myself.”
“Because you want him to continue to believe you’re his loyal advisor.” Lorcan had quickly figured out that Nollaig was anything but, though he hadn’t a clue what her true purpose was.
“That’s part of it, but I’m more concerned about what kind of magic that is.” She pointed at the mark. The black lines writhed through Lorcan’s skin, twisting like a snake. “It might try to kill you.”
“It will try to kill me,” he answered in a low growl. “But I’m stronger than my father thinks, and I am done being forced to do whatever he commands. His power over me is over, Nollaig.”
She nodded. “There is also the realm to consider. The mark binds you to your father and makes you his legitimized heir. The realm needs you. Right now, there’s a mad king sacrificing thousands of warriors because of dark visions from a dark god. They need a ruler they can depend upon. A ruler like you.”
“If the realm needs me to remain their prince, then that I can do.” He nodded. Staying at the Shadow Court was not on his agenda, but he would do what he could for the people of the realm. He’d spent years living in another kingdom while still remaining their prince. He could do so again, helping them from afar, doing his best to protect them until he could find another shadow fae who would make a good king.
Nollaig gave a nod, and then shifted to the side to make room for Reyna.
“You should remove your tunic,” Reyna said at once.
He arched a brow. “Now is not the time for that, Shieldmaiden.”
She blushed furiously. “Stop it. I don’t mean that. At least not right now.” She cleared her throat. “You’re going to bleed, and we don’t want to get it on your tunic. Don’t forget what the fae of Oxgrove said about blood magic.”
With a nod, he lifted the tunic over his head and sat still while she poked and prodded at the mark. After a few moments, she grabbed her ice dagger from where she’d balanced it on top of her knee.
“Wait a moment,” he said quickly. “You need to give me a warning.”
“All right. Here is your warning. I am about to stick my dagger into your arm.”
“You seem far too eager to do this.”
“I like to stab things.” She grinned. “Also, you need to relax. Nollaig, I think he needs another drink.”
“You can count on me, Shieldmaiden.” Nollaig vanished for a moment and came back with another full mug. This time, the contents looked suspiciously pink.
“That isn’t what you gave me earlier,” he said, pointing out the obvious.
“This is stronger.”
“How much stronger?”
“Why don’t you drink it and see?”
He sighed and glanced at Reyna. “I’m starting to have second thoughts. Perhaps I’ll wait until I can find someone who isn’t so gleeful about cutting me open.”
“Drink the pink stuff,” Reyna ordered.
Lorcan grabbed the drink and swirled the vibrant liquid in the mug. He wrinkled his nose. It looked like something that might be found on the top of a lady’s hat at court. Fluffy, pink, and entirely far too scented sweet.
“Drink up, lover boy,” Reyna said with a grin that vanished an instant later. “Sorry, I don’t know why I said that.”