Song of Sorrows and Fate: A Dark Fantasy Romance (The Broken Kingdoms Book 9)

Valen and Stieg kept pace on either side of my shoulder.

“All the ships have left,” Valen said with a touch of disgust. “They simply left, like spineless sods.”

I felt much the same but didn’t see the need to repeat it. The spiral steps took us into the catacombs. The final cell door was guarded by a Rave warrior. At the sight of us, he dipped his chin and stepped aside.

“Certain about this?” I asked.

“No.” Valen shifted. “But I am told I must try.”

Stieg smirked. “Elise is persuasive.”

“Yes, she is.”

I shoved the door open with my shoulder. Light from the day brightened the cell, but it was still a prison. A miserly fur mat, a bucket for waste, and another for water. Half gone already. No mistake, the boy had been dousing his skin in the water more than wetting his tongue.

In the corner, Bloodsinger glared at us. Chains on his wrists, his bare feet dirty and bruised. On the stone floor beside him was a rolled scrap of parchment. The boy promptly tucked it away beneath his leg.

Valen let out a sigh and stepped forward. “King.”

The boy said nothing.

“We’ve come to negotiate peace. That is what kings do, after all.”

Again, nothing from the boy.

“Your folk are gone. They’ve sailed back through the Chasm, but you don’t seem surprised.”

Erik’s lip curled. His hair was tousled and dirty, and he kept scratching the back of his neck, like the ends irritated the skin there. Based on the number of scars on his flesh, it was probably likely the skin did aggravate him, even more so away from the sea like this.

“Your uncle was killed, I am told.”

Of course, we knew Harald was gone; we witnessed it, but it was a way to gauge the indifference or fear of the young king.

Erik’s mouth flinched. He turned to study the bones built into the wall. “What a pity.”

I glanced at Stieg. The boy seemed hardly bothered by Harald’s sudden demise.

“Since you are the last line of authority in the Ever Kingdom, I’m here with a formal offer from every realm—a call for peace between our folk,” Valen said.

“No.”

“No thought? No consideration?” Valen shook his head. “Boy, I killed King Thorvald, we both know this, but his death did not come for no reason. Cease this vengeance and let our folk be peaceful again. I have the talisman of the Ever, I know it gives me a bit of power over that kingdom. I will shield these lands from the sea fae if I must. I will see to it the Chasm is warded forever if you choose to wallow in your threats.”

Erik paused for a few breaths, then leaned his elbows over his bent knees. “Tell me this, earth bender.” His voice was rough and dry as scorched grass. “Would you make peace with the man who slaughtered your father?”

“The man who tried to slaughter my father, the man who nearly slaughtered my entire family,” Valen said, “I despised him. I sought revenge against every descendant of his line. If you think I do not understand your anger, you’re very wrong.”

“Then why are we speaking?”

“Care to know how it ended for me?”

“No.”

“Well, you are in chains, so I’m going to tell you whether you want to hear or not.” Valen crouched, holding the Ever King’s stare. “I took vows with a direct descendant of my enemy’s line. My queen was the best choice I have ever made in all my many turns.”

Erik snorted. “There are no queens of the Ever. You’ve nothing to offer me. Might as well save your breath, earth bender, I’ve no interest in your tales.”

Valen shook his head and rose. “I’ve spent time these few days reading any lore we could find on this talisman of your father’s. We’ve determined it is most likely a power from a sea witch, true?”

“Powerful sea witches,” Erik snapped.

“If that is so, then it is a temperamental gift,” Valen said. “A type of magic that is rather unforgiving. It does not like to be lost from the one to whom it once belonged.”

“Witches are damn arrogant,” the boy muttered, and the way he curled his face away, I wasn’t certain he meant to speak.

“How are you so certain the power of that talisman will even answer to you, Erik Bloodsinger?” Valen asked. “It has been under our watch for ten turns, and now, it will remain here indefinitely.”

“It does not call to you,” Erik said, but there was a touch of worry in his tone, like he might not be certain.

“Does it call to you?” Valen studied the boy, but the young king merely returned his scrutiny with a glare. Valen opened his arms. “You’re right, the power within it does not call to me. It is nothing but a thin, gold disc. I feel no power over your kingdom. I only regret that blood had to be shed between us. I do not want your title, Ever King. I want to guide a young royal in peace between our worlds. Nothing more. No conditions.”

Erik leaned forward, eyes burning. “Then you do not know the ways of the Ever. The death of an Ever King does not happen. It is a crime against the kingdom I will never forget, nor overlook.”

Vengeance, hatred, it was as though viciousness had been branded in the boy’s blood. The Ever Folk rose to avenge a fallen king. Doubtless their world was one made wholly of righting wrongs through blood and war.

Valen’s shoulders slumped slightly. “Then, you remain here, King Erik. Until we know what to do with you.”

The boy turned back to the wall as though hardly bothered. Tension in his neck, his shoulders, the way one foot tapped, gave up the truth. The young king was frightened, and he did not want anyone to know it.

Valen abandoned the cell first, me close behind. I paused in the doorway when the boy’s raspy voice broke the silence.

“Warrior?”

Stieg halted. “Erik?”

“Did you kill the other boy?”

“Harald’s son? Your cousin.”

“Just . . . did you kill him?” Erik snapped. He didn’t turn around.

“No, Erik,” Stieg answered softly. “We’re not the monsters you think we are.”

When the boy didn’t respond, Stieg followed me into the corridor. The clang of the door slammed at our backs and the Rave stepped in front again.

“The boy is lost,” Stieg said as we began to trudge the stairs. “He is doing what he thinks is right by avenging his father. It’s natural. We’d all do the same, but Thorvald was a monster. You weren’t there, but he looked ready to throw Erik onto his blade when he saw the damage Ivar and Britta had caused.”

Valen rounded back down the bend in the stairs. “Did you both see the parchment in the cell?”

“I noticed,” I admitted.

“Someone is speaking to him. They’re delivering missives.”

“You think there are hidden sea fae?” Stieg asked.

“Possibly. Kase has sensed nothing, no fear, no glimmer of apprehension except from the two boys. Raum has searched, and nothing.” Valen’s dark eyes narrowed. “Perhaps someone else is trying to gain his trust.”

“Valen,” Stieg chuckled. “You sound like you already know. Who are you thinking?”

“I’ll be on the watch tonight,” he said without responding. “I want to see for myself.”

It was my night to make rounds around the fort. Valen still insisted he’d be there. I wasn’t going to argue. Calista would be there. Everyone else could join. I was certain I’d hardly notice them, for my eyes would be on her.

Elise yawned and let her head drop to her husband’s shoulder. “I’m not cut out for watch duty, it would seem. Tell me why we’re here again. I thought this was the job of skilled warriors.”

Valen grinned. “Are you turning into an adventureless queen, my love?”

Elise pinched his side. “Watch your words, Valen Ferus. I am the one always asking to travel, while you are content to stay holed away in your comfortable castle.”

I could understand the Night Folk king on that piece. I’d be content to remain holed away for another turn if it meant Calista and I were undisturbed and unthreatened for once in our damn lives.

Calista tugged on my hand. “I think someone’s slinking through the grass over there. See the way it’s moving.”

True enough, there was an odd sway to the long snake grass leading to the tower with the cells. Valen leaned over one knee, watching as the intruder wove their way toward the tower until they emerged on the rocky edges of the tower walls.

“Dammit. I bleeding knew it.” Valen rubbed a hand down his face. “Recognized that little swirl she puts on some of her symbols.”

Calista bit down on her bottom lip, to keep from laughing, I thought. Now was not the time to aggravate the king.

“Is that—” Elise squinted. “Bleeding gods, what is Livia doing? We need to get her.”

“Wait,” Calista said. “We’re watching. He can’t hurt her. Let’s see what she’s up to.”

I cast her a furtive look. She had reasons to watch this play out, as much as I did.

Valen frowned. Elise still seemed aghast. Together, they watched their daughter, draped in a dark fur over her frilled nightdress, tap on the bars of Erik Bloodsinger’s cell and lean close. I never saw the young king, but clearly, she was speaking to him. After a moment she dug into a small leather satchel and pulled out . . . a book.

“She’s . . . reading to him?” Valen seemed more confused than before.

Elise pressed a hand to her heart, smiling. “That girl is too bleeding good for this cruel world. She’s befriending him, Valen.”

“Why?”

Elise blew out her lips. “She knows the tale of Thorvald, and likely knows who that boy hates the most. You know your girl, this is Livia’s way of making certain another battle does not take her daj from her. This must be why she’s not sleeping well.”

Valen’s jaw tightened, but he gave us a quick look. “Livie’s been having wretched nightmares.”

“The littles have never known war,” Calista said. “This whole ordeal was frightening. Are you satisfied that no sea fae are sneaking in to speak to the boy?”

“No, I’m not satisfied,” Valen said. “Now, I have a tender-hearted daughter trying to befriend a boy who’d like to slit my throat. If he doesn’t alter his words, another thing will be torn from her soon enough.”

Valen had his answers. He offered us a farewell, and took Elise’s hand once they had a promise that we would keep watch on the Night Folk princess until she returned.

“So,” I said, wrapping my arms around Calista’s waist. I pressed a kiss to the crook of her neck. “Are you going to tell him?”

She snorted. “You mean, am I going to tell him that a bleeding heart song is growing between his beloved daughter and a boy from an enemy kingdom? No. I think I will let that path open however it is meant to open. I’m quite done meddling in fate.”

I chuckled, embracing the heat of a song burning between the two of us the longer the two littles were close to each other.

Calista had the right idea. Twisting fate had done enough damage to our lives. I, for one, planned to live as far from tales and tricks of the Norns as I could.

I planned to live, for the first time in lifetimes, in peace with my rose by my side.