Page 48 of Wings of Ice and Steel

‘Okay, okay!’ Nieve groaned. She could have done with an extra hour.

Kayla flicked a blonde curl over her shoulder, her cheeks a little flushed.

Nieve chuckled. ‘Don’t tell me… you’ve come from Josef’s room?’

Kayla’s eyes narrowed slightly. ‘How do you always know?’ Then a smirk crossed her lips. ‘He is a bit of a stallion.’

‘I don’t want to know!’ Nieve groaned and pushed Kayla away with one arm, dragging herself up to finish getting ready.

They were in town within the hour. The Crooked Oak was a respectable establishment, with bright walls, intricate murals, and clean, scrubbed tables. The ale didn’t taste like it had been scraped from the bottom of the barrel, either, unlike some places Nieve had visited in her time. She was growing to like it, along with the company she kept there.

The proprietor paid good coin for travelling performers to come and play, drawing large crowds that filled the courtyard. They found Dantro and Lucile already well into their cups at one of the best seats near the stage. The air elementals were go-with-the-flow types, breezing in and out like the air they shared an affinity with. They’d welcomed Nieve wholeheartedly, which helped with the hurt she experienced each time Sol gave her the cold-shoulder.

However, Ariadnne’s absence soured the joy Nieve found in her new friends. In that regard, it had been a long month. Ariadnne was never allowed to come on these trips, or spend time with her company full stop, but Nieve had made a promise to make it work, and she intended to keep it.

Given the way her heart still fluttered each time she stepped through that gate and saw Ariadnne waiting on the sands, she wasn’t sure she had another choice. She was a big believer in fate, and her heart still told her that Ariadnne was worth trying for.

That didn’t mean it was easy. It was quite the opposite, in fact. She pushed herself to exhaustion daily to drown her mounting frustration at the way Ariadnne was treated. Over the last month, her subtle questions about the accord that kept the varanyen bound to the Guild were met with bemused stares. A bargain had been struck, and the varanyen were honour-bound to fulfil it, but no knight knew the details and Nieve could hardly ask Lucius.

Meanwhile, her body heated with every exchanged glance, Nieve’s heart bursting each time Ariadnne turned away to avoid her handler’s suspicion. It fractured further each time her expression closed, hope dying, and Nieve wished she could give her each pulsing piece.

She’d give anything to kiss her again, to taste Ariadnne’s lips and make her skin shimmer as she lost control—

Nieve’s skin flushed a delicate pink, and Kayla’s brows rose from across the table, her lips curling in a sideways smile, as though aware of the direction of Nieve’s inner thoughts. Nieve avoided her gaze, plastering on a neutral face as she ordered everyone a round. Kayla was a master at digging up gossip, and Nieve refused to provide any.

The small group’s chatter washed over her as she leaned back to survey the crowd. The tavern’s courtyard swelled with both knights and local tradespeople. A grey-skinned Earthling pounded the table opposite as he guffawed at something a furry priskan said. Nieve’s eyes crinkled at the unlikely pair before being drawn to a pair of hooded figures seated behind them.

The two swarthy fae had the pale skin and white-blonde locks of the Miradael mountains. The sight sent a stab of surprise through her; it had been many years since she’d seen people from the frozen slopes of her homeland. Automatically she turned her head so as not to be recognised. She swallowed the pain that the reminder of her family brought in its wake, and the shame that stirred along with it.

She missed the land, and the people. But returning home would never be the same. Not when her family were dead.

‘…I can’t believe you left Agatha there,’ one of the Miradaeleans said in a low tone, slurring slightly. ‘Bloody dangerous. What with the trouble at the border.’

The other spat. ‘What could I do? Wife or no, she wouldn’t leave Lartha, and Lartha wouldn’t leave the temple. I told them to come south. I did.’

Nieve’s right hand twitched for her sword at the thought of a danger serious enough to push her people out of their lands. Miradaeleans were forged in a harsh and unforgiving climate, making them strong. There wasn’t much they couldn’t deal with.

Kayla drew her attention back by slamming her glass on the table.

‘You’re quiet today.’ She elbowed her playfully. ‘Care to share what’s weighing on you?’

Nieve forced herself to smile and shrug, dismissing Kayla’s comment by calling a waiter for more beer. The conversation she’d overheard unsettled her, and she recalled other things she’d heard lately. With a shake of her head, she tried to focus on the group, but a sharp spike of worry for her kinsmen pierced her chest.

Kayla looked at her with narrowed eyes. ‘What is it?’ She glanced around, her eyes lingering on the mountain folk before turning back to Nieve, a question in the arch of her brow.

Nieve sighed. Kayla could tease blood from a stone when she was of a mind to try.

‘I couldn’t help but overhear.’ Her lips twisted. ‘There’s trouble in the mountains. I don’t know if it has anything to do with the reports we’ve been getting from the scouts.’

‘You mean the abandoned villages?’ Dantro said with a frown, leaning on his elbows.

‘Those, and the reports of beasts along the borders. Dark fae. Then there’s the tattooed clan that attacked us. Seems like there’s a lot going on out there.’

Kayla leaned back and twirled a knife around her fingers. ‘I’m sure the Council will let us know if we need to worry about any of it.’

Lucile’s lips tightened. ‘They won’t tell us anything unless someone begs for our help with a purseful of gold,’ she said drily.

‘They will if anything’s likely to concern us,’ Kayla argued.