She wasn’t there when Lucidia announced what had been done to him.
“I’m fine.”
Their eyes meet, and there’s murder in Eris’s expression. “You are not fine. Who did this?”
Finn shrugs. “Let us just say that the queen of Asturia has certain proclivities, and they involve a whip in her hand.”
I turn Finn around and the sight of his back does things to me. The welts that remain are still raw. Dozens of them, crisscrossing his skin like mesh. Maybe even a hundred. I knew they were there, but knowing it doesn’t mean it’s easier to accept.
“I’m fine, Thiago,” Finn says curtly. “Nothing that won’t heal.”
“These cut to the bone.” There’s a hollow rage inside me. She did this to him because of me.
“Most of the time, seeing a beautiful woman with a whip in her hand might make a man consider just how far he intends to allow matters to go, but I will admit Adaia’s cured me of any such desires.”
“Lean forward,” I say gruffly.
His gaze cuts to mine. “I’m fine, Thi. They’ll heal. They’ll probably even be gone by sunrise.”
He and his sylvaren blood. The fae heal ridiculously fast and can survive mortal wounds, but he comes from a race of fae that were magically transmogrified by their queen. Every ounce of his strength and power is magnified. His healing abilities are off the charts.
“Get Mariana in here,” I snap at Baylor. “Now.”
The healer’s magic can fix this.
I breathe through the rage. “How did you escape?”
“I didn’t.” Finn’s brow quirks and he turns to the side. “I was rescued by a maid most fair and gallant.” His smile holds an edge. “I tried to woo her, but it seems she’s taken somewhat of a shine to someone else. Princess?”
Thalia steps aside, and I finally realize there’s someone else in the tent.
Iskvien sits primly in a small chair flanking the edge of the tent.
It’s immediately clear she’s the “something else”.
“What are you doing here?” My heart kicks in my chest. Finn drops away. The rest of my people fade. We might as well be alone, because our eyes meet and she’s all I see.
There’s no hint of the laughter that stole my breath the first time we met. No sign of her soft smile, her sweetness, the shy way she looked up at me as I kissed her and drove her into the heather. No. This is the princess of Asturia.
Shoulders square as if she’s facing the gallows. Chin raised as she stares me down. I finally see a hint of her mother about her expression, but there’s a strength there that Adaia has never owned. This is defiance. This is reckless courage.
This is power.
It near takes my breath away.
“My mother was going to cut his head off and deliver it on a platter,” she says, “when you arrived to exchange him for Mistmere. I didn’t know he was yours until you told me. I didn’t even know he was in the camp until yesterday.”
“So you rescued him?”
I don’t know what to say to that.
Neither does she, apparently. “I… It didn’t seem right.”
“Tell him the truth, Princess,” Finn says. He plucks a platter from the table and offers her some of our finest grapes. “Adaia was trying to force Iskvien into an arranged marriage. She used me as the bargaining chip to force Iskvien to sign the marriage contracts.”
Arranged marriage?
Over Adaia’s dead body.
“To who?” There’s a snarl in my voice. That fucking blond bastard from the dance floor.
Vi stills. “It doesn’t matter.”
“It fucking well does. Who?”
“Etan of the Goldenhills. Queen Maren’s nephew,” Finn says, then gives a shrug when Vi shoots him a furious glare. “He’s my prince, sweetheart. And from the sounds of if, he’s got a vested interest in this.” A brilliant smile flashes over his face. “What have I missed?”
“Nothing,” Vi says.
At the exact moment I say, “Everything.” And then I continue. “What do you mean Adaia forced you to sign it? Is that what those bruises were about?”
“The pet interceded and pointed out that if Iskvien was bruised, Maren would want to know why.” Finn’s mouth twists. “So Adaia put a knife to my face and promised to cut out my eye if Vi didn’t submit.” He rests a hand on Vi’s shoulder. “I never did say thank you for your bravery.”
“It wasn’t bravery.” It discomforts her, I can see. “I just…. I couldn’t….”
“I know,” Finn says. “But that is where you are wrong. To show kindness and empathy in such a world is the bravest thing that one can do. I know she says it makes you weak, but I disagree. Those are the sort of qualities that a warrior will fight to the death for.” He suddenly goes to his knee in front of her. “I owe you two boons. You fought for me when your mother threatened to harm me. And then you freed me, at considerable risk to your own skin. You have my life, Princess. Merely tell me what you desire and I shall make it happen.”
I slowly ease out the breath of fury I contain.
Because Thalia is softening toward her, and I know that with Finn’s recommendation she will now follow Vi as her queen. Lysander will welcome her with open arms.
Even Baylor will give a shrug and a gruff, “Fine.”
Only Eris stares at the princess with her arms crossed over her chest. “This is going to end badly,” she promises. “Rescuing Finn is one thing, but now what? We have Adaia’s daughter in our tent and no matter what Iskvien claims, her mother will call it kidnapping.” She meets my eyes. “She’s not Finn, Thiago. She’s not merely… a reputable servant. She’s her daughter. Adaia will demand satisfaction. Iskvien has to be returned before Adaia can even notice she’s missing.”
It’s the wisdom of a general who can see a war brewing.
But I cannot agree. “I want a word with her first.”
Finn pushes to his feet, and Lysander helps steady him.
“Alone,”
