Eris freezes. “Argh!”
She throws another knife at the door and it lands with a thunk.
“Fine.” Swinging around, she hauls her chair back out and drops into it. “I’ll murder him after his hexbreaker unwinds Lysander’s curse. And only because it would break Baylor’s heart.”
I hold my hands out. “Does someone want to tell me what one hundred horses have to do with all of this?”
Thalia’s still smiling. “Eris—"
“Not another word,” Eris growls out.
“You can only blame yourself.” Thalia can’t hide her amusement. “How many horses do you own by now?”
“Close to fifteen hundred,” Finn says in a cool voice. “She sold several herds.”
“Didn’t realize you were counting.” There’s something in Thiago’s voice that draws my attention.
I glance between him, Finn and Eris.
“Eris breeds horses?”
Thalia glides around the table, capturing Eris’s shoulders in her hands as she leans down and gives her a kiss on the cheek. “Permission, E?”
Eris groans, but there’s a nod there too.
“Two centuries ago, a certain visiting fae prince set his sights on Eris,” Thalia says. “No matter how much she rebuffed him, it only stirred his interest. He set out to woo her and he was incredibly persistent.”
“Thiago wouldn’t let me kill him,” Eris growls.
“He was here to sign a political alliance,” Thiago points out. “I thought sending his head home in a box would send the wrong kind of message.”
“To end the matter, she set him a challenge….” Thalia continues. “If he met her over the edge of a blade and defeated her, then she would become his wife. If she beat him, then she would take one hundred of his finest horses. She said she could only ever submit to a male who was powerful enough to beat her.”
“Oh.” I’m starting to see how this went wrong.
There’s no doubt in my mind that she destroyed him. But that’s the kind of tale that grows in the telling. And there are thousands of arrogant male warriors out there who must now see her as the ultimate challenge.
“That was only the start,” Baylor breaks his silence. “How many males have come?”
“Seeking the hand of our fair Eris?” Thalia muses. “Dozens. It’s been a while since the last one though. Thirty years, maybe? I think she broke every bone in his arm, and that’s put a few of them off.”
Eris slides her hand over her face. “I shouldn’t have said it. I was desperate. How was I to know every fae male in the southern alliance would see it as a personal fucking challenge?”
“There, there,” Thalia says, massaging her shoulders. “It weeds out those who know they can’t beat you. And if you’re lucky, one day a prince will stride through those doors and hold his own. You never know.”
“No one is going to hold their own against her,” Finn’s voice sounds like gravel, “because that implies that someone has to beat her in order to capture her interest. Males like that aren’t interested in Eris. All they see is the glory and the pride involved in crushing her spirit. That’s what they’re interested in, and frankly, if there is someone out there who’s good enough to take her sword off her, then I’m going to pick it up and drive it straight through his fucking throat.”
Eris stares at him incredulously.
“What?” he demands.
“This is the one time I actually agree with you.” She frowns. “It feels wrong to even say that.”
Finn shrugs. “Not that you need me to pick up your sword.” He cracks his knuckles. “Let me know when Lysander’s hex is broken. I might help you throw that prick off the tower.”
Eris considers it, then reaches over and bumps her fist against his. “It’s a deal.”
“No,” Thiago says, pointing at her. Then he turns to Finn. “No. I don’t want to start a bloody vendetta against an assassin’s guild. Besides, we might need him on our side come Elms Day.”
“I’ll talk to Vi,” Thalia promises. “Once I have a description of the fae she saw, I might be able to work out who they are. I’ll send my little birds out into the street and see if they can hear something interesting.”
She means that literally, for there are numerous birds up in the aerie that belong to her. She’s spent centuries cultivating the demi-fey of the city, and now she has hundreds of them that will ride one of her sparrows into the city and report back to her, in exchange for milk and honey.
The fae ignore the demi-fey, because they’re capricious and so difficult to keep focused that they make it seem easier to corral cats. But if there’s one thing the demi-fey are good at, it’s remembering something word for word, and if you actually can get them to communicate with you, they’re surprisingly effective.
Thoughts brew in Thiago’s eyes. “We need to get you inside the library at Ravenal.”
“I think concentrating on this plot is more important.”
“And Thalia will have information for us as soon as she can,” Thiago counters, “but I’m not merely trying to assist your search. Ravenal lost its queen. I’ve sent missives to the crown princess, but she’s been putting me off, and to be honest, I haven’t turned my attention to our allies enough.” He gives me a dangerous smile. “Your mother is waiting for a counterattack? Well, why not give it to her? Ravenal sits at her flanks, and she murdered their queen. If I can give the crown princess a reason to march her armies north, then we might be able to crush Asturia between us. I think it’s time we sent word to Kyrian and Lucere and see if they want to crush a queen.”
Chapter Eight
The towers of Ravenspire loom ahead of us as we ride from the Hallow we arrived at mere minutes ago.
Nervous energy runs through me.
Queen Lucidia ruled over Ravenal with a miserly hand for centuries, and I see the effects of that in the countryside as I ride past. The fae we pass wear
