Page 52 of The Hidden Fae Prince
Mustardseed has already reported to Nevander and Primrose. If he’s annoyed at having to repeat himself, he doesn’t show it. “All around her were over-bloomed flowers, an increase in magical powers. There were cuts on her hands and face, which healed without a trace.”
Seren has never heard such sadness in rhyme. He touches his own forearm. “Nothing else?”
“I am sorry, Your Highness, I have nothing new.” Mustardseed bows. “If I learn anything, I will first tell you.”
“Thank you,” Seren says. Part of him wants to reach out and taste Mustardseed’s sadness. See if it’s easier to stomach than Seren’s own.
Instead, as Mustardseed joins Idalia’s search, Seren turns to the shelves behind the desk. There’s an exquisite wooden box. A set of statuettes—bear, griffon, wolf, unicorn. More trinkets, all artfully arranged. Pride of place goes to the box containing the broken crown. Shattered upon his mother’s brow.
“Is it normal for injuries to heal after death?” Seren asks quietly.
“With enough power involved,” Nevander says, and sets a bundle of parchment on the desk. “These were recent.”
Seren takes a deep breath, centering himself the way Primrose showed him. Then he sits at the queen’s desk and begins to read.
He tries to, at least.
The fae of Elladar speak the journey tongue, same as Wymond. Words are spelled mostly the same. The letters are thinner, more graceful, but close enough to what Seren’s used to. He’s certainly deciphered worse handwriting, his own included, while working for Alard.
He’d hoped reading Haelwen’s words would bring her closer. Seren only feels further away.
With his empathy quiet, Seren’s own anxious hurt is far too loud. Nevander stands nearby, slowly flipping through papers. He’s a ray of cold in the opulent warmth. Seren had thought they’d reached an understanding in Primrose’s haven, but in the days since, Nevander has been sterner than ever.
It doesn’t make sense. Seren had thought he’d done well.
Not good enough to impress Nevander, clearly. Seren doesn’t even resent Nevander for that. The more he learns, the more he grasps the scope of his ignorance. He teased Nevander for fighting everything in the haven, but at least Nevander fought instead of panicking. If Seren had Nevander’s discipline, impervious to distraction and emotion…
He wouldn’t be himself.
“What are you reading, Tansy?” Nevander asks.
“A Half-Hag’s Humble Guide to Flora,” Tansy answers cheerfully. “With a special appendix of mixed drinks.”
Disbelief quiets the room. Tansy holds an alarmingly ornate tome. Ragged yellow pages exude malice.
Idalia laughs. “You may be human, but your lies need work.”
“I suppose it does look like a dark grimoire of unspeakable curses,” Tansy says, flipping a page. “But it’s just a nice list of flowers.”
Nevander jerks his head, and Idalia hops over to retrieve the book. “Whatever it is, you can read something else.”
Idalia slams the book shut in a shower of ominous sparks.
Tansy sighs but doesn’t protest the confiscation. “Perhaps you can accompany me on my next library trip, Lord Nevander. You can help me pick something more… suitable.”
Seren looks around for the sudden source of anger. Nevander seems unmoved. Everyone else seems amused. The anger is Seren’s own. Tansy is blatantly flirting with Nevander, and Seren dislikes that unreasonably.
Flustered, Seren sets the papers aside. He’ll go back to them, but first he’ll try examining the display shelves. Looking at trinkets doesn’t require as much concentration as reading.
When he eases open the crown’s case, Seren’s knees weaken. So many gems. How much would that be worth back home, even broken—a thousand gilden? Five thousand?
Seren closes the case gingerly and moves to a smaller box, carved in ornate geometric designs. This one is empty, with a palm-sized impression in the velvet.
“That would have held a memory,” Nevander says from very close. The scent of honeysuckles and amber, a breath of citrus, surrounds Seren. “Haelwen kept important ones in glass spheres.”
“Where is it now?” Seren asks.
Nevander draws away, gaze averted, as if remembering he wants nothing to do with Seren. “I don’t know. Have you found anything interesting?”
