“It’s okay.” I tried to smile at him through the sudden weight of exhaustion dragging at my limbs. “I’ll be able to enjoy some mead after completing the ritual tomorrow.”
“Tamil!” someone cried. We turned to see a group of ice fae spill into the foyer—a tall, handsome fae male, and three younger ice fae, one who resembled the male while the other two clearly favored Tamil. Heartfelt greetings and kisses were exchanged, and Tamil introduced them—the tall one was Havor, her fiancé, the other male Riven, his younger brother and the fortress’s steward, and the twin girls were Lora and Nora, her younger sisters.
“It’s a pleasure to meet you,” Havor said, pumping my hand a little too enthusiastically. He didn’t even seem put off by Einar, despite having his wings and claws out on full display. “We weren’t sure if Tamil would be able to bring you back here, but we’re glad she did.”
“You weren’t sure?” I glanced between Havor and Tamil. “Do you mean to say that you planned this?”
“Not exactly,” Tamil hedged. “But after that initial meeting in the Hall of Mirrors, I gathered you weren’t staying in Usciete Palace wholly of your own volition, and that perhaps you were tangled in one of Lady Axlya’s many webs. As ice fae, we know better than anyone else about the prophecy King Aolis was obsessed with. He came to Bala Oighr every year to test each our children for fire magic, and we lived in fear that one of our babes would be stolen from us. But Lady Axlya never shared Aolis’s obsession with finding you. She doesn’t care about fulfilling the terms of the prophecy, only with making sure House Usciete maintains control of the throne. So I knew I needed to come as quickly as possible, and be there for you in case you needed to escape.”
“You’re even prettier than I thought you’d be,” one of the twins said, smiling at me. “I think you’ll make a great queen.”
I blushed, the praise of a twelve-year-old somehow more impactful than all of Prentis’s flattery combined. “I hope so,” I told her, not having the heart to say that I didn’t know if I was going to end up as queen at all. I’d thrown away all hope of controlling the succession when I’d fled Usciete, and if I were honest with myself, I didn’t regret it.
Tamil’s family looked like they wanted to question us, but Einar placed a hand on my shoulder. “If it’s all the same to you,” he said in that rumbling voice of his, “Adara is exhausted from her travels. I think she ought to rest, especially since she’s still fasting.”
“Of course,” Tamil said, contrite. She turned to Riven. “Have the guest rooms been prepared?”
“Yes.” He inclined his head toward me. “I’ve told the kitchen staff to prepare a feast in your honor, for after you complete the ritual. And we’ve sent a message to the priestess to make preparations at the temple.”
“Preparations?” I turned to Tamil, hope rising in my chest. “Does that mean we’ll be able to perform the ritual soon?”
“Yes.” She grinned at me, the first genuine smile I’d seen since our escape. “Get some sleep, Adara. Your big day is tomorrow, and you need all the rest you can get.”
41
Adara
Iwoke up to the sight of my mother staring down at me.
Not my actual mother, of course. That would have scared me straight out of bed—maybe out of the fortress entirely. But the white-haired female in the portrait hanging over the mantle was the late Princess Olette, according to the servant who’d shown me to this guestroom. The fae who stared back at me wasn’t quite the same one who’d given birth to me, though. This portrait had been painted when my mother was only fourteen years old, her face still soft with the final echoes of girlhood, her hair loose around her face and adorned with a single white lily tucked behind her ear.
She’d chosen to wear an eggshell blue gown for the portrait, the high-waist empire cut hiding most of her still-slender figure, which hadn’t yet filled out into curves. There was little of me in her facial features, but her tall, gangly frame was almost identical to my own teenage body before I’d blossomed into full adulthood. I wondered if she’d felt just as awkward and out of place as I had during those years, caught somewhere in the transition between child to adult, a stranger to my own body. And whether those feelings had disappeared once she’d completed her coming-of-age ceremony.
“Adara?” Tamil’s voice filtered through the door as she knocked lightly. “Are you awake?”
“Yeah,” I called sleepily, pushing myself upright. I let out a jaw-cracking yawn as she opened the door and padded in, then sat up straighter when a trio of servants followed in behind her, carrying makeup and jewelry and a gossamer gown made of some pure white material. “What is all this?”
“We’re getting you ready for the ritual,” Tamil said, as though it were obvious. She tilted her head toward the window, where the sky was just beginning to lighten. “I tried to let you sleep as long as possible so you’d have your strength, but we must get to the ice temple before dawn to begin the ceremony.”
“I see.” I swung my legs over the side of the bed, feeling a little uncertain. I’d crashed into a deep, dreamless sleep the moment the servant had shut the door behind me last night, and hadn’t woken once through the night, not even to change out of my clothes. “I didn’t realize we were beginning so soon.”
“Are you not ready?” Tamil asked, eyeing me closely. She seemed in far better health than she had yesterday, a healthy pink flush beneath her pale skin, but a hint of shadows still clung beneath her ice-blue eyes. I suspected she hadn’t gone straight to bed the way I had—as the acting ruler of Bala Oighr, she probably had many matters requiring her attention that had to be dealt with before bed. “The priestess has already begun preparations at the temple, but if you require another day of fasting—”
“No!” I hurried to cut her off, refusing to let anyone delay things. “No, I’m definitely ready.” The morning rays of sunlight streaming through the window behind me seemed to suffuse my body with energy—I was practically humming with it, especially after nearly twenty hours of deep, restful sleep. “I just fully woken when you knocked.”
“Oh. Well, that’s understandable.” She smiled, looking relieved, then motioned to the servants. One of them veered off to the en-suite bathroom, while the other set down the dress and accessories. “Let’s get you ready, then.”
Tamil and the servants rushed me through the bathing and dressing process, styling my hair in simple waves that cascaded down my back, and fastening tiny diamond pins at my ears. The gossamer dress drifted around my body like layers of white mist, making me feel almost ethereal as I stood before the mirror.
Once I was dressed, Tamil led me out into the hallway, where Einar waited along with a contingent of ice soldiers. “They’re here to escort us to the temple,” she said as we started down the corridor. “I doubt Axlya’s soldiers will get here in time to stop us, but we can’t take any chances.”
I nodded, her words barely registering as I locked gazes with Einar. His golden eyes shone as he stared at me, and I stood a little taller, fighting against the urge to preen beneath his stare. Not a word passed between us, but it wasn’t necessary—the pride and affection swelling inside him was almost tangible, filling me with confidence and banishing my nerves.
I could do this. I was ready.
* * *
The ice temple was located inside a cave at the peak of the mountain, several miles above the ice fortress. Two sets of steps carved entirely of ice had been laid into the face of the mountain, and to my astonishment, they seemed to be moving, one set rippling up, and the other one disappearing into the mountain’s base.