Page 5 of The Stolen Crown

“Oh, don’t be sending me on with such a reply,” pleaded a voice like satin, smooth and delicate.

“Apologies, Vanna. I’d not dream of forcing you to relay such a message to your unsavory king.”

Eerily pale eyes like bulbous orbs peered over the bank of the river. The merwoman’s long, spindly fingers dug into ember blossom roots, a water flora in our realms that sprouted vibrant red petals in the shape of a barb. When dried, the petals served as excellent kindling.

Almost as though she could not help herself, Vanna plucked a root and slowly slid the pulpy end onto her tongue. Her needlelike teeth gnawed at the fibers, while she never took her eyes off me.

Merfolk tended to fill the coves, rivers, and lakes of the southernmost fae isles due to the blooms. They found the flavors of my kingdom invigorating. To the glamour fae—my folk—they were gritty and tasted of mold.

“What was written that has you in such duress, Lady?” Vanna asked.

“What has me in such duress, you ask? Well, I shall tell you. I had grand plans to visit dearest Livia, as you know, in the coming days. But, alas, there is to be a celebration in my court. Naturally, I sent word to Livie that I’d be slightly delayed. And her ill-tempered mate has now informed me that his odious cousin will also be remaining until, and I quote, ‘I am prepared to set sail, for I do not wish my tenderhearted queen to fret over the well-being of her beloved’—yes, he used ‘beloved,’ which is greatly unlike him—‘fellow royal.’

“In other words, Vanna, Erik Bloodsinger does not think anyone else on his crew is competent enough to escort me to the Ever. Highly offensive, don’t you think? All the more reason I’m convinced Bloodsinger is doing this because he knows I cannot stand his damn cousin.”

“Oi, that’s a great many words, earth fae. Apologies, but what is the trouble? I don’t understand your disquiet. It’s not like Heartwalker is here at your side now.”

“The problem is I am not a little who requires a sea fae escort to keep watch over me in my own kingdom. This is a game to your king.” I waved the smelly parchment in my hand a bit furiously. “He has no command here, no authority.”

“Aye,” Vanna agreed. “But his cousin be under his authority. He’ll be needing to remain.”

“Well, Hearttalker can sit his ass on his horrible ship until I am ready to set sail. No need to be near each other until that very moment.”

Vanna’s eyes flashed. “I think you be meaning Heartwalker.”

I huffed and folded my arms over my chest, glancing toward the shadows of the trees. I meant exactly what I said. Why I continued to speak the wrong title to Tait Heartwalker, I didn’t know. He was a damn sod with a thick head, and the more I spoke my assigned name out loud for him, the more bruised my own heart became.

Vanna grinned, small and uncertain at first, then the jagged shards of her teeth gleamed nearly iridescent in the fading sun. “Me thinks you and his highness have a bit of a battle of wits. We do so love to see who stands on top when her ladyship visits our folk of the Ever.”

“Vanna, I do hope after all our interactions—which I’m certain are pleasanter than those with Erik Bloodsinger—you would know by now, I always stand on top.”

I flinched at the sound of a twig snapping in the distance, my fingers curling over the hilt of the dagger in my lap.

Only shadows danced between the moss-soaked trees of the riverbanks.

Vanna’s bony, scaly shoulders bounced when the merwoman let out a wet sort of chuckle, like blowing air into the surface of the sea. “Still don’t understand the outrage. I would greatly love to take Heartwalker for a swim myself.”

“Well”—I lifted my chin—“I do wish you’d get on with that swim.”

Merfolk were tricky creatures, fascinated with other folk and how they might fare beneath the tides. Always yearning to draw fae and mortal alike for a swim. Trouble was, we might never see the surface again should we oblige.

Vanna stole another root and crunched her sharp teeth over the edges. “All I want is to know how well he can read my heart in the depths. Think his voice would still work?”

“I think it’s worth finding out.”

Vanna’s eyes flashed like a shock of starlight. A hungry gleam of curiosity. A need, a damn near obsession to study and speculate, was the craving of merfolk. On this, I somewhat shared her intrigue. Tait Heartwalker had the power to read the desires of hearts, and it was one of many reasons I fought to remain agitated and aloof toward the man.

Lest he read a little deeper.

Tait was worse company than the Ever King, bore a deeper scowl, and seemed to despise every soul except for a few. I saved his damn life once, and all he returned were aggravated frowns.

Try as I did, I could not puzzle out Tait’s disdain for me. Truth be told, I also could not explain the hurt it caused, a barb slashing over my heart, leaving a scabrous sort of wound behind. He was a loathsome creature, and it was ridiculous for me to have the slightest inkling for his regard.

Vanna wanted to know if the man was horrid? Yes. He was horrid and unpleasant and rude and unfairly beautiful. A man I could not stomach in one breath and in the other was left feeling like the moments near him were too few.

It made little sense, for I was not a woman so desperate to plead for a man’s affection. No. I was the damn heir of the glamour fae, daughter of war enders, and a warrior in my own right.

Water thrashed when Vanna shifted, her fins slapping at the river’s current. “I’ll be off then, Lady. When you return to the seas of the Ever, do consider taking a swim with us.”