Another howl cuts in from the right.
They’re everywhere. The entire pack must be following me.
“No. You’re safe here. The hounds won’t dare follow you.” There’s a kiss to my forehead, and then the world starts to dissolve around me.
The forest starts to open up, and I can hear the hounds baying in the distance. They seem to be falling behind, and as I stumble into a sunny clearing, I fall to my knees and pant.
The Grimm only rides at night.
And he’s locked away in his prison world, trapped for all eternity. It’s just a dream. It has to be a dream. Except that one of the hounds looked like Baylor, and I don’t know how to tell him the truth.
“The truth?” This time the whisper sounds startled.
I sit bolt upright in bed, covered in a cold sweat. My heart is racing, and judging from the tangle of my sheets, I’ve been thrashing.
I could also swear I wasn’t alone.
There’s an indentation on the sheets beside me, and when I reach out to touch it, it’s still warm.
“Thiago?” I whisper.
Nothing moves. The breeze blows through the gauzy curtains by the window, but I’d be able to see something in the hazy moonlight, wouldn’t I?
Tossing aside the sheets, I search the room. It’s empty, but when I return to the bed, I can still feel the ghostly press of lips to my forehead.
He was in here, I’ll swear it.
And worse, he was in my dreams.
And now he knows.
18
The Alliance is planning to meet via astral projection.
It’s rare they meet in person—the rites only—and with tension lingering between several of the kingdoms, it’s probably a wise decision.
I hurry inside the enormous tower chamber that Thalia leads me to, steps slowing when I see the six enormous throne-like chairs set in a circle around the room. Five I can understand, but six?
In the middle of the chairs lies a floor of polished marble, inlaid with thousands upon thousands of bronze glyphs. Light streams down through a hollow circle in the middle of the ceiling, landing directly in the center of the circle.
Thiago gestures to the chair by his side. “Vi.”
I stare at it like it’s comprised of iron nails. “You want me to sit with the Alliance?”
Has he been drinking this morning?
“Yes.” A faint smile curls over his mouth. “Don’t you want to watch your mother turn an interesting shade of red?”
“Tempting as that may be… I would prefer not to draw her ire.”
“You don’t think you’ve already drawn it?” He gestures for wine, and Thalia begins pouring two cups. “Besides, you’re my witness. You’re the only other person who’s seen what is happening at Mistmere. They won’t believe me, but they can’t dispute that you’re not my ally.”
Oh, I see. “Now you’re throwing me to the wolves. I thought we’d sued for peace following the hunting cabin, but you were merely biding your time.”
“Sit, Vi. It’s just a chair.”
“You are merciless, and I shan’t forget this,” I tell him, sinking reluctantly onto the chair. “Check your bed tonight. You might find a nasty surprise in it.”
“If you’re anywhere near my bed, then it can only be considered pleasant,” he murmurs as the bell hanging in the tower above us begins to ring.
It’s a sign of an incoming guest.
The Queen of Aska forms right in the stream of light, her long dark hair looking ethereal in the silvery light of her astral form. She tilts her head to us, eyes locking on me and narrowing slightly, before she moves toward the chair to the left of me. “I assume you have due cause for calling a meeting.”
Queen Maren is the reason we ward ourselves at night with woven dreamcatchers over the bed. If the bells in the catcher tinkle, then it’s said that she’s tampering with your dreams. Sometimes, she’ll send her winged dream-spawn to seduce a sleeping soul.
“Cause enough,” Thiago replies coldly, slipping into the mantle of prince.
It’s interesting to note that he sheds that mantle with me. I hadn’t even realized that I was given insight into the inner workings of his mind, rather than dealing with this imperious bastard.
The bells ring again and the stream of silvery light misting in the center of the room turns into Lucidia, the Queen of Ravenal.
Her white hair is a shock of startling light in this ethereal form, and for a second I see a smooth oval face overlaid over her wrinkled features. A queen in her prime, as she must have been many, many years ago. Then she flickers and becomes the old crone I know.
Sinking into her chair, she curls her gnarled hands over the arms. “You had best not be wasting my time, princeling.”
“I don’t intend to.”
The bells ring again, and I can sense the tension in the room.
It’s either the prince’s ally, or an enemy.
My mother shimmers into view, and apart from my fireplace, it’s the first time I’ve been face-to-face with her, as it were, since she sent me here.
Enemy, then.
Adaia looks every inch a queen girding herself for war, clad in a long metallic dress created from scales of silver. Rings glitter on her fingers, and she’s wearing the Crown of Thorns as well as what looks like half a stick of kohl.
She glances at me, stiffens, then glances again.
One of the most enjoyable aspects of the prince’s court is the fact there’s no need to stand on formalities. I’m tired of being her pretty little peacock. Though I’m not Andraste, partial as she is to polished leather and practical braids. I do like pretty things.
The berry-colored tunic I borrowed from Thalia is my compromise. Beneath it, I wear tight black leggings and leather boots that are laced to my thighs. Adaia’s dagger resides in the sheath at my hip—her eyes light up when she sees it—and several heavy gold cuffs rest on my wrist. Thalia even gave me a circlet of golden thorns that I can wear as an armband.
“Please,” says the prince smoothly, gesturing to the remaining thrones. “Take a seat.”
My mother seats herself directly opposite him.
“This is Alliance business,” she says, ignoring me. “What is she doing here?”
“She’s my witness,” Thiago replies smoothly.
“Witness?” My mother smirks. “Do we dare trust her account, after she’s been with you for over a month? We all know how seductive you can be, how… convincing.”
My eyebrows rise. How little she thinks of me, if she considers me to have fallen for his pretty face and charming smile.
I can sense him stiffening at my side.
“It’s not as though I’m the one who likes to toy with people’s minds,” he says, “and use them as pawns.”
“You should speak carefully of pawns,” she replies. “You were the one who bargained with her life. You were the one who began this.”
“And I will end it.”
My mother’s eyes blaze. “You little upstart. I look forward to finishing this. When my daughter stands by my side and watches you squirm on my hook, I will know absolute satisfaction.”
“I’m right here,” I say through clenched teeth. “If the pair of you would like to talk about me as if I’m not, then perhaps save it for later. We wouldn’t want to waste the alliance’s time.”