Prentis raised an eyebrow. “That was a very accusatory ‘you’,” he said, straightening up. He took a step toward me, a wary look on his face. “Did I do something wrong?”
I closed the distance between us and jabbed a forefinger into his chest. “You knew Lady Axlya was going to spring this marriage proposal on me, didn’t you?” I said, my voice crackling with ire. Something like guilt flashed in Prentis’s eyes, and I shook my head, disappointment filling me. “That’s why you’ve been so nice and tried to court my favor at every turn. So that when the time came, I would say yes and take you as my husband.”
“What?” Prentis shook his head, looking genuinely shocked. He took the hand I was jabbing into his chest between both of his own, an imploring look in his eyes. “Adara, I pretend I was unaware of my aunt’s plans. But even if marriage wasn’t on the table, I would still treat you like family, because youare.” His gaze darkened, grip on my hand tightening just a little. “I loved your mother, and you remind me so much of her. I would never shame her memory by trying to manipulate you like that.”
I hesitated at Prentis’s impassioned words, not entirely sure what to think. I believed that Prentis loved my mother, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t trying to manipulate me, even if he didn’t view his intentions as malicious. He stood to gain quite a bit by marrying me, after all.
“What Lady Axlya said about taking consorts,” I said, allowing the words to form slowly on my tongue. “Is that really so normal amongst the water fae? Doyouhave consorts?”
“I don’t have consorts, so to speak, as I have never married.” Prentis’s eyes flickered away from me, then back again, as if he were debating telling me more. “But I do have several paramours, and it is normal amongst the water fae to do so, especially among our nobility.”
My stomach dropped as Prentis confirmed my suspicions. “I don’t know about this, Prentis.” I pulled my hand from his grasp and took a step back. “Maybe if I’d been raised amongst water fae I’d be able to accept this, but earth fae don’t have multiple partners.” And I bet dragons didn’t either. “If I married you, I’d expect you to be faithful to me.”
“How silly,” a familiar voice said, and I stiffened as Cascada appeared around the corner. Her eyes raked disapprovingly over me, and it was the most honest expression I’d seen on her face since I’d arrived here. “It’s not in our nature as water fae to be faithful to one spouse, Adara. King Aolis himself had multiple partners in the early days of his rule, though he stopped taking paramours once he realized that his shadow taint was rendering them infertile.” She smirked. “If you want the other water fae nobles to accept you as the heir, you need to adapt our ways. If you can’t…” she trailed off with a shrug.
“Then what?” I crossed my arms and glared at Cascada. “Lady Axlya will choose someone else? Who would be a stronger candidate?”
Cascada scoffed. “Literally anyone else in House Usciete.” She curled her lip at me. “You have no leadership experience, and no understanding of water fae customs and traditions. Why would any of us expect you to uphold our interests, especially when you’re—"
“Cascada,” Prentis snapped, his eyes flashing. “Enough.” He stepped in front of Cascada, blocking her view of me. “Ignore my cousin,” he said, his tone softening. “I would be faithful to you, and I already prepared to pledge myself to you. King Aolis aside—” he shot Cascada a venomous glare over his shoulder, “—Edirian monarchs don’t have a history of taking multiple partners due to the confusion this would create in the line of succession. The king and queen have always been exclusively devoted to each other, as I would be with you.” He took my hand in his, and my anger faded at the sincerity in his eyes. “I would be a good husband to you, Adara. I would help advise you on your royal duties, and fill in any gaps in your courtly knowledge. You need someone like me by your side if you intend to rule.”
I sighed. I couldn’t argue with Prentis—I didn’t have the experience necessary to rule a country. None of the training I’d been given had prepared me for this. Having a husband versed in court politics and armed with ruling experience would be invaluable, and would assuage the water court’s doubts about my suitability.
But did Iwantto rule Ediria? Being the only fae with the power to vanquish shadow magic was enough pressure as it was—why did I have to become queen, too? Couldn’t I just perform the ritual, unlock my magic, vanquish Nox, and go home with my mother? Did I have to embroil myself in all these political machinations, too?
“Are you all right, Adara?” Prentis asked as I pinched the bridge of my nose.
I shook my head, fingers curling around my doorknob. “Today’s events have been tiring,” I said as I opened the door to my room. “I need some time to recover.”
“Of course.” Prentis stepped back, giving me space to walk through. “Come find me if you need anything. I’m here for you.”
I shook my head as I closed the door in his face, then leaned my forehead against the door, eyes shutting.
There were only four people in this world who had truly been there for me. And all of them were gone.
22
Adara
“So, your dragon protector has run off, has he?”
I schooled my expression against Lady Axlya’s barbed comment. She’d delivered it lightly, of course, but it struck home, the thorn lodging in the hollow spot that had formed in my chest yesterday.
I’d expected Einar to return last night, or at least this morning. But when I’d awoken after a fitful sleep, I’d found his room empty, his bedsheets smooth with only the faintest hint of his wood smoke and crisp night sky scent clinging to them.
Anxiety had gripped my stomach so tightly, I’d barely eaten anything at breakfast. Everyone had seemed to know what was wrong—Prentis kept shooting me worried looks, Cascada hiding her smirks behind spoonfuls of porridge. Only Lady Axlya had acted as though nothing were amiss, and I suspected she would have continued to do so if I hadn’t asked to speak to her.
“He’ll be back,” I said, my words imbued with far more confidence than I felt. “He just needs to cool off. It’s difficult for him to be here, in a city filled with water fae who loathe him.”
Lady Axlya rolled her eyes. “Dragons are so dramatic,” she said, clucking her tongue. “Their personalities are just like the fire magic they wield. Not that I should be surprised, considering that the fire fae were the same.”
I blinked. “You were alive when the fire fae existed?”
“Radiants, no.” Axlya laughed. “Even I am not that old. But the fire fae weren’t completely extinct when I was born. Not all of them were in the Deadlands when the dragons arrived, and the remaining bloodlines endured for many centuries before they finally diluted to the point of extinction.” A faraway look entered her eyes, some distant memory catching her attention, but she blinked it away. “In any case, dragons are far too volatile with their emotions. Water fae are more fluid—we don’t allow the current of our emotions to sweep us away. We go with the flow when it suits us, and redirect it when it doesn’t.” She gave me a pointed look, coming to a stop in front of some hydrangea bushes. “You don’t seem to have inherited that ability, based on your own emotional display yesterday.”
Shame crept up the back of my neck, but I forced myself to meet Axlya’s stare anyway. “I may have inherited more dragon traits than I realized,” I admitted. “I apologize for my loss of control yesterday, Lady Axlya.”
Axlya hummed low in her throat as she regarded me. Several guards trailed behind us, though they stopped a respectful distance away, giving us the illusion of privacy, but I knew they were listening to every word. For a moment, I wished Leap was here, so he could use his wind magic to create a sound barrier. Or Mavlyn.