Page 13 of Blood & Roses

“He needs care,” I said, taking a deep steadying breath and trying to shift out of Rowan’s grip. “He was injured.”

“Lena gave him something for the pain,” Rowan said, looking at me sternly. “He can wait until you’re not falling over.”

“I’mfine,” I repeated, the arguing downstairs growing in intensity as I swung my legs out of the bed. “What is everyone arguing over?”

Rowan sighed, gripping me around the waist to help me stand as I was insistent on doing so. “My brother’s elven form came as a bit of a surprise to your sisters, I’m afraid,” he explained, steadying me as I made for the door. “I wasn’t entirely truthful with you.”

I narrowed my eyes at him, and he swallowed guiltily. “In what way?” I asked, still leaning on him heavily as he helped me down the stairs. I was already feeling better, my body needing sleep andfood after expending so much magic. My stomach rumbled loudly, and Lena poked her head around the wall.

“You’re up,” she said, relief coating her words as she rushed to me and practically forced Rowan to relinquish me. She shot him an apologetic smile, curtsying a little as she helped me the rest of the way to see my patient. “Thank you for watching over her, Your Highness.”

“Your Highness?” I asked, looking at Lena like she had lost her mind, then at Rowan, who refused to meet my eyes.

I pushed away from Lena and ran the rest of the distance myself, both she and Rowan shouting after me to slow down as I barrelled down the stairs and into the sitting room, where Sera sat at the side of the beautiful elven male who lay unconscious on our sofa.

He had fair blond hair and elegant, pointed ears, and his noble profile and features were ones I recognized from a hundred different posters plastered all over Mysthaven.

I sighed, turning on Rowan, who had appeared behind me leaning on the door jamb with an expression of defiance.

I had known, of course, but seeing the evidence still sent fear for my sisters lashing through me as I accused, “Your brother is Prince Tristan of Elandor.”

Chapter 7

“He is,” Rowan said, crossing his arms and looking like he was readying for a battle. “Amira killed our father. I won’t let her kill him too.”

I had already reached for Tristan, searching his blood and body for lingering injury. He was healing rapidly, and the pain medicine I kept on hand seemed to be doing its job. When I tried to stand, Lena half-carried me to an armchairand made me sit.

“So,” I said, trying to order my thoughts now that my suspicions were confirmed. “Your father is the king. You’re a prince?”

“I’m no prince.” Rowan shook his head as Sera looked between us, then at Lena as if asking whether she should stay. “Just a bastard-born nobody.”

“Sera,” I said, catching my sister before she could escape. “Go get Mora. I need a full account of this curse.”

“Izzy, are you sure—” Lena started, looking at me like she was worried I might pass out again as Sera fled the room, looking somewhat relieved to be out of my sight.

My sisters knew I wasn’t really dangerous when angry. The danger lay when I was completely calm.

“I’mfine,” I insisted, giving her a placid smile and trying to keep my tone even. “But I will not be fine if I don’t get some more answers.”

“Alright, alright,” Lena said placatingly as if I had shouted. She moved toward the door, Rowan shifting out of her way. “But I’m getting you some toast.”

“Explain,” I demanded once we were alone. “I already have my suspicions, but I want the truth from your lips.”

“I didn’t want to tell you for exactly this reason,” Rowan said, still looking poised for a fight. “It’s hard to explain.”

“You’d better try,” I insisted, feeling another chill run through me at the danger my sisters were in if it was true that Queen Amira wanted Tristan dead. “You’ve put a target on all of our backs.”

“And for that, I am truly sorry,” Rowan said, unmoving as he watched me warily. “Truly. Your sisters have been nothing but kind and tolerant. I didn’t mean to cause you harm.”

“You’re the late king’s son,” I said, looking to confirm my internal narrative. “Human mother?”

“Like I said,” Rowan sighed. He seemed to have decided I wouldn’t gut him, and he moved to sit next to his brother. He took his hand, looking tired and worried, and my damned heart softened a little. “Bastard-born nobody. My mother was a human woman that my father took to his bed on a whim. When I was ten, she begged him to take me in. Have me trained for a position in the royal guard, rather than suffer in poverty with her. His wife was pregnant with Tristan, and he didn’t want her to find out about his extramarital activities, so he agreed.”

“They weren’t lifebonded then?” I asked, probably prying far too much.

A lifebond was an elven magic, a ceremony that tied the lives of two beings together inseparably. It was done rarely, most elves preferring the more human and less permanent traditions of handfasting or marriage.

It was unusual for royalty not to be lifebonded, though. Most elven royalty did it as a sign of steadfastness and commitment. Especially when political alliances were common, lifebonding sealed the peace between the three elven kingdoms and encouraged affection.