Page 158 of Spring Guardians & Songbirds

Concentrating on her rising chest, I counted all heartbeats in the room. The ratio was minus one. No heartbeat came from her.

The other captains shifted uncomfortably, and chatter began growing as did Moregan’s discomfort. My, my. Was she really father’s dirty little green secret? How did this one manage to turn to that green thing? Her Verglaser stink was potent, but not potent enough to emulate the beast’s scent—not in any way triggering my senses either.

Demir strutted in the meeting chambers all energy and sat atop the table, ruining my little moment. Shortly, he took note of my presence and threw me a wink. And as he did so, I marked another day down till I’d pluck that eye out.

“I’ve selected a team I want to take up north, to deal with the vandal attacks,” he began. “They’ve doubled in size and have reached all the way up to the face of Islines where some of our people reside.”

North? What vandals? I’d told Magnus that father had gotten his sceptre, so why would there be any—

Hells. Had father not gotten his sceptre piece yet?

I almost perked up in my seat when he called my name, “Snowlin, you are to come with. I already have your father’s permission.”

“Of course,” I offered politely, but my insides were churning with excitement.

“We leave tomorrow at dawn. I suggest you all head for rest.” He turned to me. “You too, Princess.”

And I suggest you rip your own spine out. “Will do.”

“Ah, Snowlin,” Demir called just as I was about to leave. “Your father expects you for dinner.”

This filial daughter act was going to be the death of me. I hadn’t acted obedient a day in my life and now I knew why.

My mood picked up when I saw who had joined the radishes and father for dinner. Melanthe stood there in all her crimson might and sat right in my bloody seat.

“Princess,” she purred, lifting herself a little from the seat to bow at me.

“Mel dear, you’re in my seat,” I said, pulling the chair beside her and sitting down. “But stay, I bet your leash doesn’t extend to here.”

Her face fell and she glared at me. Look at her feeling all offended again.

“My rose,” father sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose, tired. “How was your day?”

I plucked a grape from the fruit platter. “All the better now. One can only once see the dead, snow spirits and a king in one table together. Trying to get a good look before it ends.”

“Glad you are entertained,” Melanthe drew out, stabbing her fork hard on her food, making the metal screech against the porcelain.

Leaning forward, I cocked my head at her. “So, dear, where have you been sneaking to lately?”

She stopped mid-chew and turned to me slightly. “Concerned, are you?”

“You’ve got to be cautious, Mel sweetness. No one knows what lurks in the shadows. What hungers for you.”

Her mouth pulled to a sneer. “I am not afraid, Snowlin. You forget, I have already died once.”

“What a fond memory.” I lifted the cup to a toast. “Here’s to second chances.”

Her eyes widened a little and she brought a hand to her stomach. Something bad stirred in mine from the way her fingers curled protectively over her clothing. Then I heard it. A slow hum. Not entirely a strong heartbeat, but strong enough to send webs of panic shooting through me. Melanthe was with child.

Father rested a hand on her shoulder. “You shouldn’t strain yourself.”

I almost knocked myself over when she rested her scarred hand atop my father’s and said, “It will be fine. She is fine.”

She? Oh gods. You’ll never understand, she had told me. Hadn’t she been right? The servitude that one could explain with insanity was because of this? Howling laughter blasted out of me till I almost choked on my own air. “You two know?” I asked the two quiet radishes. When they remained bitterly silent and glaring holes onto the table, I laughed, again.

“Father,” I called, still hiccupping with laughter and pointing at the two half breeds. “Two wrongs don’t make a right, but my congratulations, honestly. To all of us. From a circus to a carnival.” Turning to him, I lifted my cup to another toast. “I hope you get your desired outcome from this. The one that me and my siblings failed to give you.” I hated how betrayal filled my stomach so sourly. Had he even loved my mother when she had loved him so? Wasn’t that what people in love did, held onto one another even if only their memory lived?

“There is always a lesson in failure, my rose.”