A Court of Ash and Necromancy

8. Halfwritten Agendas

The artwork above is not mine.

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The party arrived at the city of Nivis presently. Mikael was awestruck by the sheer beauty of the white marble and gray stone buildings that made up the city. Smoke curled from the chimneys of the shops and houses. People cleared the streets as they drove past, waving and calling greetings.

Children played in the snow, bundled up in warm fur coats. Some of them were using icicles and sticks as makeshift swords to duel with. Mikael smiled at the sight. The children paused their game and waved.

Wynter waved back. Pale blue light glowed around his hands and Mikael's eyes widened as dozens of miniature snowmen appeared around the children. The children shouted in delight and began attacking Wynter's creations, using their hands as well as their toy weapons to demolish their newfound adversaries.

Wynter caught sight of Mikael's expression. "Do you not interact with the children in your Court?"

Mikael shook his head. "Not really. Most parents ushered their children away when I accompanied my father out in public."

"Why?" Wynter raised a dark eyebrow, a strange contrast to his pale hair.

"Because I'm a bastard. The people in the Dawn Court are rather set in their ways. They've only recently begun to look past the circumstances of my birth."

"Hierarchy and prejudice," Wynter scoffed. "I'd do away with the whole system if I could."

"Really?"

He nodded. "We need people to govern us, of course, but being in a position of power shouldn't mean that one person is better than another. We shouldn't define ourselves as Lesser Fae and High Fae. Halfbreeds and pure bloods. Bastards or legitimate children."

"Do your parents share that sentiment?" Mikael asked.

Wynter tilted his hand from side to side. "Yes and no. Mother looks past breeding and social standards. She's never been one to conform to the ways of society. As for Father, he doesn't really see an issue with the way things are. What do your parents think?"

"My father has a male mate and a bastard son. That should tell you what he thinks," Mikael chuckled. "Both of my fathers are eager to please and want to serve their people, but they also refuse to be told how to live their lives."

Wynter nodded slowly. "Interesting." He met Mikael's gaze fully. "How is your mate? I'm surprised she isn't here as well."

"Estelle is doing well. She's in the Night Court currently, handling some personal business."

"I see. Extend my greetings to her when you see her next."

"I will." Mikael smiled and Wynter returned it.

The sleigh passed through a set of ornate silver gates. Mikael realized they were now beyond the city limits and on the grounds of Kallias' private home. A towering white palace appeared before them, complete with reindeer and bear gargoyles, hundreds of shimmering windows, and dozens of balconies. The sleigh came to a halt at the base of a grand frost covered stairway.

Kallias and Wynter exited the sleigh and led Thesan and Mikael up the stairs. "Watch your step," Kallias warned. "It can be slippery in some areas."

"There are ways to keep outdoor stairs and walkways from icing over," Thesan chuckled.

"He knows," Wynter replied. "But Father likes the aesthetic of the frost." Kallias shot Wynter a pointed look and he averted his gaze.