With her near daily practice, not only had her target grown more distant, her aim had grown truer. All her arrows were embedded in the circle just outside the bulls-eye and the one she just let loose was no different.

He pulled in a calming breath that, with Ruben on his errand, actually calmed him.

His Finnie, he knew, would have some reason she did what she did. It might be a foolhardy reason but it was likely she did not think so.

And he determined to discuss it with her at some later date when his anger was not so close to the surface.

And this later date would be around the time she missed her first cycle and he knew his seed had found purchase in her womb, she was further bound to him through their child and the future of the realm was safe.

There came a knock on the door, he turned to it and called, “Enter.”

Then he watched the chateau’s housekeeper come in, stop and announce, “There is a woman here who says she urgently needs to speak with your princess.”

Frey sighed again.

Of this, he had no doubt. As in Houllebec, Finnie wasted no time befriending nearly everyone in the village. It was not unusual that a woman came calling so she could sit with coffee or wine and his wife and they could cackle about whatever women cackled about.

The urgency of the message, however, slightly surprised him.

“And she is?” Frey asked although he really did not care.

“Says her name is Agnes. She’s of your land, my lord,” the housekeeper replied but at her first five words, the burn in Frey’s gut and chest changed as ice encased his innards and then crawled through his veins.

“Bring her to me immediately and she is not seen nor does she see my princess,” Frey ordered, the housekeeper nodded and swept out.

Frey lifted a hand to his neck and his fingers squeezed. He did not turn back to the window. He waited for the witch to come through the door.

When she did, he dropped his hand and waited for the housekeeper to close it behind her.

“I thought I made myself clear,” he stated quietly, his eyes locked with her faded blue ones.

“You did, Drakkar,” she replied just as quietly.

“If this is true, you’re here because?” he prompted.

“I have an urgent message for your Finnie,” she told him.

“And you did the last time we spoke in Lunwyn. And my message to you was that you do not see or speak to my wife,” Frey returned.

What was now months ago, just days after Frey and Finnie argued over Viola, Stephan had intercepted the witch Agnes when she visited the Winter Palace and demanded to speak to the princess. For obvious reasons, his men vetted anyone who made such a demand. Upon hearing who she was Steph wisely brought her to Frey.

It took some doing but Frey had convinced her to share the message she had for Finnie and this was a message Frey himself had not, at that time, yet delivered to his wife. The message was that Finnie’s witch from her world, a woman called Valentine, had sensed the elves binding spell and she had communicated with this Agnes to warn Finnie this had happened and awaited instruction on what she should be doing in her world to rectify the situation.

Frey had, at the time, lied to Agnes saying Finnie was well aware this had happened and was happy to remain in his world. And he had paid her to communicate the same to this Valentine.

He had also warned her not to see or try to speak to Finnie without seeing him first. He paid her for that too. He’d also made it very clear what would befall her if she reneged on their deal.

Since then, of course, he and Finnie had spoken of where she came from and his falsehood had turned true.

Frey knew straight to the depths of his soul, more and more as every moment passed with his wife, that she was pleased she’d risked her venture and, in the end, been bound to him as his wife and thus to his world.

What Agnes would travel to Hawkvale to communicate, and risk communicating it, he could not fathom nor did he wish to know.

But he had no choice but to find out.

And his concern was that something had befallen one of the friends his wife spoke so lovingly about. This was something that would cause Finnie distress for she felt deeply, especially when she came to care about someone but even when she hardly knew them.

And if there were problems, Finnie would feel it. She would feel it worse for she could not return and do anything to help.

And he did not want his wife to feel distress but if this had happened, he was powerless to help except offer his neck for her to sob into and although he knew his presence soothed her, he also knew in such a case this would be no help at all.

“You did, Drakkar, but there is much news,” Agnes replied.

“And this news is?” Frey asked.

“Princess Sjofn, of our world,” she paused, “much is happening.”

Frey’s body got tight as the jagged shards of the ice slithering through his veins started scoring.

“And what is Princess Sjofn of our world up to?” Frey queried.

The witch took two steps toward him, leaned in and whispered, “Drakkar, the princess is a guenipe.”

Frey instantly relaxed.

“I’m aware.”

The witch’s brows shot up then she started, “The Princess Finnie –”

He cut her off. “My wife, too, is aware.”

She leaned back, visibly surprised at this news, and she surveyed him.

Then she stated, “This may be so, and Valentine reports the dalliances are discreet, but nevertheless, she is living the life of your wife in that other world and no matter how discreet, word has a way of getting out. Valentine tells me it is there not like it is here. There are people who do not accept the guenipes. There are even those who are violently opposed to them.”

Finnie had told him of this curious fact about her world, something not shared with his own. Frey himself had no issue with guenipes, unless, of course, he was pledged to marry one.

“This is true, witch, but as Finnie will never return to that world, it matters not.”

“Perhaps she will not agree,” Agnes suggested.

“I can assure you she already knows and she does not care,” Frey stated then crossed his arms on his chest and his brows went up. “You travelled all the way from Lunwyn for this?”

She shook her head. “No. This is not the only news. It isn’t even half of it.”

Gods damn it.

“Spit it out,” he clipped.

“There have been many communications back and forth. Many communications,” she stressed. “And Princess Sjofn is aware of the perils the Princess Finnie is facing, including the assassination attempts.”