I barely refrain from rolling my eyes. “Can we go back to the situation with the camps and the refugees?” Finn looks more ragged and tired than I’ve ever seen him, but I need to know. “This would stop if you were on the Throne of Shadows?” I ask him.
“I can’t change Seelie law,” Finn says, “but I could make life better in my court. I would do everything in my power to make it so my people didn’t need to run. Everything I do I do to protect my people and give them a safe home.” His eyes lock on mine, so intense you’d think I alone had the power to give him his father’s throne. “That is a king’s true responsibility.”
I need Jas back, and that has to remain my first priority, but I can’t stop thinking of those Unseelie children, stuck in veritable prisons and being told they’re less worthy because of their birth. If Finn overthrows Mordeus, the bargain would be moot. Finn would give my sister back. I know he would. “Tell me how I can help.”
Finn’s face goes cold, and he turns to Jalek. “Help me to my room?”
“The girl wants to help,” Jalek says.
Finn pushes out of the chair and flinches in pain as he straightens. “Or I’ll get there by myself.”
“Fine.” Jalek studies me for a long beat before helping his prince up the stairs.
“Did I say something wrong?” I ask Pretha.
She shakes her head. “I think that was enough excitement for the day. Let’s head back to the castle early.”
Chapter Seventeen
IT’S BEEN A WEEK since Sebastian gave me the mirror. A week of waiting around the castle and distracting myself with Finn’s misfits, wondering if Mordeus forgot about me and our bargain. A week of obsessively asking the mirror to show me my sister. Seeing her happy and well cared for is the only thing that makes the wait tolerable. As crowded as the Golden Palace is, I feel lonely while I’m there. The only person I trust even remotely is Sebastian, and I can’t confide in him.
I’m starting to wonder if the king ever intends to retrieve the mirror, but I won’t miss any more training in the meantime. I may need these strange skills for the next relic. Though, if I’m honest, my preference for being with the Unseelie misfits is about more than this bargain. When Pretha brings me from the palace to Finn’s house, I end my day smiling and feeling less . . . hopeless.
Today I spent the morning practicing fading myself into shadow and walking through wards and walls. I’ve gotten better at controlling that, but once Pretha told me to turn her to shadow, we hit a wall. Figuratively and literally.
“Let’s take a break for lunch,” Pretha says now, leading the way out of the library. “Jalek’s making sandwiches.”
When we enter the kitchen, Jalek and Tynan are already at the table with Finn. Three more plates are set, but I don’t see any sign of their red-eyed Unseelie friend.
“Don’t know where Kane is off to this morning,” Jalek mutters when he notices me looking toward the foyer. “Too hungry to wait for him, so just sit.”
Pretha cuts her eyes to me. “Ignore him. He gets irritable when he’s hungry.”
“I get irritable,” Jalek snaps, “when Litha is this close and that bitch is still on the throne. I get irritable when the prince I’ve sworn fealty to has a fever and won’t do what’s necessary to heal himself.”
My head snaps to Finn. I’d asked him how he was when we arrived this morning, but he blew me off and said not to coddle him. Now I see beads of sweat on his forehead that I hadn’t noticed before.
“Well, you can’t fix any of that if you’re hungry,” Pretha tells Jalek, taking the seat beside Finn. “So eat.” She mops Finn’s forehead, and he swats her away.
“I’m fine,” he grumbles.
“You have a fever?” I ask Finn. “Have you been using the salve?”
“It’s not from that.” His jaw twitches; he’s sick of explaining this. “It’s a regular fever.”
“How do the stitches look?” I ask. “Is there redness or swelling?”
“I looked at it myself this morning,” Pretha says, avoiding my gaze. “We’re dealing with it. Now sit.”
Reluctantly, I sit next to Pretha, and Tynan passes around a platter of sandwiches while Jalek fills our glasses with a sparkling water that tastes like sunshine and lemons—a description I would have found ridiculous before coming to Faerie simply because I wouldn’t have understood that it . . . fits.
I’m halfway through my sandwich and the guys are working on seconds when Kane walks into the kitchen, a woman by his side.
The conversation halts, and everyone stops eating.
Finn pushes back from the table and stands. The wolves I hadn’t even noticed appear from the shadows and take their places on either side of him. “What’s this?” His voice is dangerously quiet.