Page 98 of Autumn Queens & Shadows

They all shared a look with one another.

“They believe old wives' tales about me. That my magic is useless in daytime so they now attack closer to sunrise. And they also attack the north, because they again believe that the further I am from Adriata, the weaker I get.” I pointed to the Islines next. “Iskyla wanted to deal the Isline villages in exchange for pulling back soldiers from Modr and Hanai. Any guesses as to why she changed her strategy of obtaining Isjord from within to encircling it and eating at the edges?”

I threw a round paperweight on top of the villages. “Because she thinks I cannot use magic in her lands.”

“You think she fears you?”

“No, I know she does. Just how I know her soldiers have been roaming the Dardanes markets as well as those in Whitebridge according to my informants, in search of Umbra and Dark Crafters. Iskyla feels at a disadvantage. So much so that she is breaking ancient rules her people have been abiding by for centuries. Using dark and darker magic.”

“What have you done?” Thora asked, scowling at me. “I know you’ve done something.”

I kissed her hand again. “You’ll see. Soon.”

“Just tell me.”

Leaning in, I asked, “Like you told me yesterday?”

I’d held onto her hand all the way through the meeting and still didn’t let go as the room was emptying, leaving me and her alone.

“I have to be in Rose Court in five minutes to meet with the ladies,” she said, avoiding looking at me, still not pulling away from my hold though her hand had gotten unusually warm in mine—which I knew she did not like. Most heat bothered her. You’d never see her get close to a fire or a lit flame, not that she needed to.

“Some woman caught your eye?”

Confused, she finally faced me. “What?”

“What woman in Rose Court were you trying to impress today?”

“Impress?”

Letting go of her hand, I braced both my hands on her chair handles and turned it to face me with her still in it. Reaching to undo my jacket’s buttons that she was wearing, I looked up at her watching me. “Yes, impress, little bird.” Once I had the jacket pulled away from her body, I took in all of her. “Looking like a wet dream.” My wet dream, perhaps.

Her eyes widened just a fraction—so innocently. “Nissa just wanted me to look pretty so they don’t look down on me.”

“Thank her for me.”

“Maybe I should hold on to your jacket a bit longer,” she said, reaching for it, but I held it away from her.

“In a minute. How about I walk you to Rose Court,” I said, standing and reaching a hand for her.

I was there this time before the bells rang to signal Iskyla’s soldiers.

The furthest village in Modr was strangely quiet considering there had just been an attack. The Isjordian guard was only about five miles away at this point, but already late by the looks of it. It seemed that I was late, too. Iskyla’s soldiers had not made it far into their sudden attack. It had not been as sudden as the one carried on them either.

Bodies lay on top of one another at the village entrance. A shadowed figure standing before them and circled by white wolves—how it had been alerted before anyone else. A smart move. Training wolves was no easy feat, especially to the point they could smell danger miles before it even became dangerous.

The White Veil twisted around at the sound of my footsteps, the wolves snarling and then standing back when they took in my scent.

Before the cloaked creature was about to take off, I faded close and pulled onto the hood. Black hair half bound with a neatly tied white bow slipped free, cascading below her shoulders. Her head whipped to me, eyes wide on mine just like that first day I’d seen her in White Bridge.

I wrapped her hair around my fist and pulled her to me, her back meeting my chest. “I was starting to wonder why this pale ghost smelled like my sweet wife,” I whispered in her ear, burying my face in her hair to inhale that scent that was beginning to drive me absolutely insane. Did she bathe in a fucking salad bowl? Why was she so sweet? My mouth was watering for just a tiny little taste.

“Pretend wife,” she breathed, panting.

My lips curled into a smile as they rested on her neck, resisting the urge to mark her. “My pretend wife, care to tell me why you are not asleep and wearing silk bedding to terrorise your enemy? Did you get lost on your way to the bathroom?”

“I have my reasons.”

“I’m sure they will be very, very good reasons,” I said, spinning her to face me. “So?”