“I’ve noted,” he said softly, “many occasions that Finnie remind me of you. She has your grace in her bearing and, I didn’t know it until now, but she also has your passion of emotion.” Atticus sucked in a hopeful breath as his wife visibly worked to calm herself. “The elves told me the twins of the two worlds are different people and this is true of your daughter and Finnie. It is strange and fantastical you share these attributes with Finnie as if you passed them down through your womb, but it is nevertheless true.”

The king and queen remained silent.

Drakkar finished. “It pleases me to know as this plot unfolds and uncovers Lunwynians behind it, that Finnie can trust her parents.”

Atticus’s shoulders slumped with visible relief.

Aurora lifted her chin and asked instantly, “Does this mean we can see her prior to you both being away into the cold, dark night?”

Drakkar nearly smiled at her motherly dramatics.

She was going to miss his Finnie and she was worried about her.

However, he did not smile.

Instead he looked to Lund who had been standing quiet, shoulders to the wall and ordered, “Take them to Finnie.”

Lund nodded and moved but when they were at the door, Drakkar called out, “One thing.” They stopped and looked back at him. “I’ll remind you we’re uncovering Lunwynians at every turn.”

“I’ll see to it my best men –” Atticus started but Drakkar interrupted him.

“That’s precisely what you won’t do. I’ve chosen the men I trust and right now Finnie has them, me, the both of you and, if my instincts are correct, her maidservants. You, as I, will treat anyone else as suspect,” his eyes moved to Aurora, “even the heads of Houses who were heretofore above suspicion. You will do this until I am assured of their loyalty and you have my leave to trust them. Is that understood?”

“Understood, Drakkar,” Atticus muttered.

Aurora paused only a moment before she lifted her chin.

“Bid farewell to your daughter,” Drakkar murmured and they moved without hesitation behind Lund.

Drakkar stared at the door as it closed behind them, leaving him alone in the room.

An image of the woman spewing blood projected on the wood and this transformed into an image of Finnie doing the same. It was an image so heinous he closed his eyes to shut it out.

He could not blame himself for a woman’s ludicrous infatuation or the actions this caused.

He could blame himself for lack of vigilance.

Aurora had said, In your fire to avenge what’s happened tonight under your nose…

And she was not wrong.

Bloody hell, she was not wrong.

Drakkar put a fist to his hip and a hand to the back of his neck, dropped his head and studied his boots.

He should have seen it coming, this was painfully true.

But he would not make that same mistake again.

The door opened, Drakkar lifted his head and saw that Annar stood in its frame. “I have the heads. Do you want them brought here?”

Drakkar looked behind him at the blood on the stone floor of the buttery.

Then he looked at his man. “No. Take Ravenscroft to the library, Lazarus to the study, Njord to the drawing room and Sinclair I’ll speak to in the sitting room. Then get a maid to fetch my clothes. I’ll want our guard prepared to leave within the hour.”

Annar lifted a chin and closed the door on his way out.

Drakkar took a few moments to rub the tension out of his neck.

Then he dropped his hand and walked to the library.

Chapter Twenty

The Finnie

The riders on their mounts moved through the frozen forest swiftly and throughout the journey they did not relent in their pace for the sake of their steeds.

Before we left, Frey had suggested I try to sleep but we were going at a fast canter and the jarring pace alone would have kept me awake.

But it was the events of that night that actually kept me awake.

Unlike our last, during this journey, Frey did not talk. He did not share tidbits of information. He simply held me close and leaned into me as Tyr took us through the moonlit forest.

Leaving me to my thoughts.

And I took his silence as indication he wished to be left to his.

I was told that Sudvic was a six hour sleigh ride if the conditions were right and, considering the not-so-good company of my thoughts, I was glad that it didn’t take us that long. I had no idea how long it actually took but we were not on a road; we were off track, in the forest proper and likely taking a more direct route.

The entire time we rode, my mind was awash with images and memories of that night, the last two weeks and everyone in the Palace and at the Gales that I’d come into contact with. None of them seemed like assassins to me but I wouldn’t know and assassins, I would guess, didn’t have identifying characteristics. Or, at least, not good ones.

My parents had come to visit me prior to Frey and I leaving and I guessed this meant Frey trusted them enough to allow it. As they looked like my real parents and I’d grown to know them, not to mention the fact that both were openly concerned for me (yes, even Mother), I couldn’t believe they would have anything to do with a plot to murder me. And in the end, I had no choice but to act exactly what I was, and that was terrified, so I welcomed their reassuring presence.

Then we were away in the cold dead of the night, Frey and I and my guard and I had nothing but the moonlight, the snow, the trees and my thoughts to occupy me for hours.

And therefore, I was beside myself with relief when we suddenly came out of the never ending forest.

Then, as what lay before me shoved out the dark thoughts and registered in my brain, I sucked in breath.

We had emerged on a high rise and spread before us was a city and not a small one for its sprawl stretched far.

But this wasn’t what made me pull in breath.

The twinkling lights of the city covered the valley and to the left blinked partially up a rise that was not a mountain in comparison to those around Fyngaard, but it was a very tall hill.

However, to the right there was a bay, its dark, night water so calm it was glassy and its surface was dotted with huge, awe-inspiring three and four-mast galleons that were at anchor. More still were docked at the wharf. Considering the hour, they were lit with few lanterns (though those closer to the wharf had more illuminated) and all these cast long reflections across the bay.

It was freaking spectacular.

Although they’d run for hours, it was as if the horses sensed their journey was coming to an end, they wanted it to be done and their pace picked up as the riders in our party forged across the snow toward a well-trod road, then down the road to the valley and into the city.