Page 24 of Blood & Roses

“You don’t know,” he murmured, more to himself than to me. “Gods, of course, you don’t. You live in the middle of nowhere and have no elven family.”

“Don’t know what?” I pushed, annoyed at his cryptic muttering.

“Isolde,” Rowan said slowly, as if not to spook me. “No one has heard from the High King since the winter began. Not for twelve years.”

“That’s not possible,” I argued as Rowan got us moving again, patting the horse’s neck as it huffed in annoyance. “The High King’s Guard is still patrolling. The palace…”

The palace that Captain Everhart claimed was surrounded by thorns.

But that was recent, surely. If the king had been missing for twelve years, certainly more people would know about it.

“The High King’s guard is taking orders from the captain,” Rowan said, his arm a tight band around my waist. “The High King hasn’t taken an audience in twelve years. Hasn’t attended a royal function or dinner. Hasn’t been seen in public.”

“The thorns in Varenheim,” I asked, mulling this news over. “Are those twelve years old too?”

“No,” Rowan replied, “those are new, as far as I know. I heard reports of them through royal channels a few months ago, but nothing before that.”

“Before or after Amira married your father?” I asked, a dire suspicion forming in my gut.

“Before,” Rowan said, sounding wary again. “You think they’re somehow connected?”

“I’m not sure,” I replied, shaking my head. “But it seems too coincidental. All of this. Orson’s family was lost around the same time as my parents. The same year the endless winter began. The amulets that allowed the bear-shifters to keep their minds were stolen at the same time. And now this…”

“They say the gods work in mysterious ways,” Rowan said, his thumb shifting and making me shiver again. “Perhaps there’s a reason my brother led me to you.”

Chapter 12

We stopped outside the city, Rowan deeming it safer to spend the night in one of the nearby villages, rather than near the palace where he might be recognized.

Even from far outside the city, the glass palace of Elandor was a shining jewel in the setting sun, the faint glimmer of the sea beyond it dazzling against the frosted glass turrets.

All three elven kingdoms had palaces of fine materials, each an ode to a different aspect of Lirael. Glass for Elandor,representing the changing nature of her people and the forest. Crystal for Frostwood, as the major conduit of magic in the world. Quartz for Silvershade, representing physical and mental perfection.

The palace at Varenheim was made of glittering black adamantine, the dark mother to the three palaces of light. I’d seen it when I went to Varenheim twelve years ago, hoping the High King could help me find my parents. I hadn’t even gotten close to the black walls, the High King’s guard forcing me away as he wasn’t taking requests.

Perhaps he had already gone missing.

“You alright?” Rowan asked, speaking near my ear from behind me as he pulled the horse to a stop. “Isolde?”

“Fine,” I said, resisting the urge to turn my face to his. I knew his lips would be right there, and the temptation to kiss them after sitting in front of him all day, talking and laughing and feeling his hand warm against my stomach, would be too much. Gods, it had been so long since I’d done anything for myself. Hadanyoneto myself. And I was fairly certain I wasn’t imagining his continued interest after sitting in front of him all day. “Just thinking.”

“Dare I ask what about?” he asked, swinging down from the horse and raising his hands to help me.

I slid down, legs stiff from riding, and let Rowan steady me as I landed in the snow with a crunch. His hands gripped my waist, and I looked into his eyes, a mix of concern and…something else shining there. Hunger, I realized, as his grip tightened on my waist.

“About how much pain you must be in right now,” I teased, feeling unusually bold. I flicked my eyes downward for just a moment before I returned his gaze.

Rowan raised a brow, a faint blush staining his cheeks from more than the cold as his gaze heated. He stepped a little closer, and indeed, I’d guessed correctly that the hard press of him against me hadn’t just been muscle.

“You have no idea,” he murmured, dipping his head down until we were sharing breath. I felt my face flush in response, slightly horrified at my own daring as I closed the gap just enough to brush my lips against his. A whisper of a touch.

I pulled back before he could lean into the kiss, my heart pounding in unison with his. I braced my hands on his chest and reached out with my magic, feeling his blood thrum through his veins toward intimate places.

“Not that I’m protesting,” Rowan murmured, not daring to close the distance again, “but what is it you want, Isolde?”

I took a step back into the horse, who neighed in annoyance at me and flicked his tail angrily right in my face.

Rowan laughed, and I sighed, patting the beast, who deserved a large bag of oats after carrying us all day. “Come on, you great grump,” he said, patting the horse’s flank and taking his bridle. “Let’s get you fed.”