Page 92 of Wings of Ice and Steel

She sidestepped his outreached arm and dove for the door.

To where her guards waited.

‘Can we take you back to your wing now, Miss?’ the skinny one said hopefully.

‘Fine.’

Where else could she go? She wanted to see Nieve, but the agitation on her guard’s faces said otherwise; she was pushing their tolerance. With gritted teeth and a sense of helplessness she let them take the lead.

The skinny guard left them at the doors to her wing, relieved to be resuming his post. Being responsible for a volatile female was evidently more than he’d signed up for.

Once in her rooms, Ariadnne flung herself onto her couch. Probed the new wound in her chest, part of her was pleased that Sol, as her father, wasn’t quite as terrible as she’d imagined. But it left her no closer to wringing a confession from someone.

Her company. That was her only lead. How in nine hells was she going to figure it out in time? Or was this another false lead entirely?

Outside the window, the sun sank lower in the sky, afternoon drawing into evening. The ocean crashed loudly against the rocks below, keeping Ariadnne company as she alternated between simmering anger and sorrow.

The castle bells chimed six when there was a knock at the door.

‘Go away,’ Ariadnne called out, uninterested in whoever could be visiting at this hour.

The door swung open regardless, revealing a concerned-looking Councillor Vesta and a sneering Councillor Leth. Ariadnne surveyed them with cold eyes.

She didn’t do them the honour of rising.

‘How are you feeling, young one?’ Councillor Vesta said as they seated themselves on chairs either side of her. He wore a fatherly expression on his weathered face, his hand playing absently with his grey whiskers. Councillor Leth, on the other hand, remained cold and detached. Ariadnne refused to look at him.

‘I’m fine.’ She forced a cool smile.

‘Good, good,’ the older fae blustered. ‘Terrible business, everything that’s happened. It must be very difficult for you.’ He glanced at Councillor Leth, who motioned with his hand for him to continue. Vesta cleared his throat.

‘Ahem, ahh, we have been deliberating the best time to discuss with you the matter of a new handler. We know that it would be valuable to help you keep a good routine, to support you through this trying time.’ His rheumy eyes watered and he looked quite uncomfortable. As well he should.

‘My old handler is barely cold, and not yet buried, and you want to discuss her replacement?’ Ariadnne’s nostrils flared in distaste.

‘We mean no disrespect to Melixanthe, or to yourself,’ he said hurriedly. ‘It’s just… structure… it might help you with your grief…’

‘You mean, you would rather I wasn’t gallivanting about the castle unsupervised. It makes you uncomfortable.’

Ariadnne was beyond tact.

‘Yes,’ Leth butted in. There was a pulsing black vein at his temple. ‘Your place is here, in these rooms where you are safe. Your presence in the castle riles up the others.’

‘Oh yes, I’m sure that’s what it is,’ she said sarcastically, thinking about the ‘bonds of loyalty’ Sol had mentioned, the very reason she was kept isolated taking on a new colour.

‘I would warn you not to stretch our goodwill, young lady.’ Leth bared his teeth. ‘We have been tolerant, given your grief. More so than I have advised. That will not last if you push the boundaries much further.’

Vesta shifted, obviously uncomfortable, and shot a pointed look at Leth, who crossed his arms. Vesta leant forwards. ‘Tomorrow we will say our final farewells to Melixanthe. She is to have a funeral befitting her status. We hope you will grace us with your presence.’ He tried to smile at her. Ariadnne scowled back but nodded her assent. ‘Good. Perhaps after this would be a better time to discuss a new handler.’

The two Councillors rose with a mixture of false platitudes and brusque dismissal. Ariadnne eyed them warily as they made for the door. She didn’t know why they had wanted to discuss a handler with her anyway. They were hardly going to give her a choice.

*

A little later that evening, there was a timid knock at the door and Sascha peeked her head round. Ariadnne was still staring into space on the couch, but the sound of Sascha padding softly into the room with the dinner tray roused her from her stupor.

‘Is it a good time?’ Sascha said softly.

‘It doesn’t feel like any time is a good time anymore.’