Dragons and Princes - [COMPLETE]

12. Faeana

"Father," Faeana nodded respectfully, lowering her head and holding herself poised. Eiran had greeted his daughter formally from his throne, the first to speak rather than the last, which spoke volumes. His relief was great because his worry had been tremendous. He’d thought he would lose her to the Fenrir.

Even now, Faeana read the hardness in his expression as he looked upon the golden lotus upon her temple. Her hair was braided regally, as was custom upon formal appearances, so there was no way to hide it. She didn’t know why she wanted it hidden, other than knowing the sight of such a dangerously located scar would enrage him beneath the polite exterior. There was a wintry chill edging his words as golden-haired Eiran Dagur sat stiffly with either hand resting on the arms of the golden throne he sat upon. "Tell me."

She straightened, and with her, Fae rose from her graceful bow as well. The frey cat sat on her hind legs, tail curled politely about her feet at rest. Just as King Eiran’s frey cat Eir poised stoicly, almost as still as a statue but for the rise and fall of his snow white chest, Fae remained equally elegant. Both frey cats stared at one another, their golden eyes a mirror of each other’s.

Had Faeana any less control, she would have been frantically pacing the throne room, revealing her frayed nerves, her relief of being home, her innate restlessness over calling to mind everything that had happened. She didn’t know what possessed her– perhaps it was Marquis’s far cry for peace– but she had already made up her mind to defend the Keisere.

Her father wanted answers, and she would give them to him honestly, but in a way she might allow a possibility for another request for peace to break through his distrust and dislike of the Fenrir. She had little doubt remaining over Marquis Morganthe’s sincerity after the honesty he’d displayed. Perhaps, with her help, her father might decide to try for peace once again despite the history between Freyja and Fenrir.

So Faeana told her father that she’d gone to Fae, to the Lora, where Fenrir had slipped past their borders. They were being chased down by Marquis’s wolf and had attacked her. Marquis stopped them from killing her and had her brought to him directly, where he treated Fae’s and Faeana’s wounds under the safety of his protection. She told her father that Marquis sent one of the Fenrir to bring the royal guard to retrieve her.

Eiran Dagur frowned, uncertain. He knew she was leaving much out, so she added briefly, and also honestly, "I was not conscious for several days. The injury the soldier inflected upon me was . . ." Her eyes averted when her head throbbed again. "Uncertain," she admitted. "I was not harmed again, Father, and Marquis spoke again of his desire for peace. I believe he might be speaking the truth, after this ordeal. Otherwise, he would have simply killed me."

Her father rose cautiously, his shoulders tense as he descended the dais stairs, and she met his gaze and held it, even as he stopped before her, his brows drawing in a light grimace as he looked at the new golden mark. Her mother had loved lotus flowers, and for the shape of the golden bloom, she knew it struck him doubly hard to look upon it. "The Keisere, sworn to defend his own and kill ours, tended to my daughter’s injury so that she would live?" he asked skeptically. His eyes narrowed when he looked down into her gaze with his blazing blue eyes, a color so uncommon among the Freyja’s usual golden tones that she often forgot how startling hers must be as well. "A strange event, but one I am most grateful for. What is this I hear of the Keisere’s assault upon you and the captain’s disgrace?"

The question was blunt, and the promise in the blue was wrath. Faeana winced, and Fae did as well. The frey cat lowered her head.

"Patreos overreacted at the sight of Marquis so near me and provoked him. Marquis . . ." her face flushed at the memory of what he had done, "paid for his behavior."

As her father listened, a slow smile rose, then, a show of even white teeth, save for the elongated fangs that were prominent in both the Freyja and the Fenrir, but which were absent in humans. "A taste of shock and revulsion," Eiran agreed, amused. "They know nothing of the danger within us. Even the Ajatar would not dare." Eiran Dagur gave a fond chuckle as he relaxed. "I would send an army to slay him for touching my last surviving daughter so, but let him live with such a taste instead. I hope he does not recover." Her father held out his arm with a rare offer of affection, one she’d missed since childhood, and she stepped in, grateful for the brief hug. As they parted, Eiran Dagur studied the mark sadly. "A lotus flower. Your mother loved lotus flowers . . ."

"I miss her," Faeana admitted. Her war cat nudged her, and her father rested a hand upon her shoulder for just a moment. He nodded silently, remembering her.

Just like that, he withdrew, turning back into stone. "Next time you think to leave the safety of the Den, take your guards, but for the love of all that is golden, never go to the Lora again, not even for Fae. The Fenrir would have perished there if you hadn’t been there for them to chase." The scolding was undeserved, but he did not know Marquis had used Fae to force Faeana’s will, so she accepted it as though she was guilty. If Fae hadn’t returned with her, she would have told her father that particular detail, but Marquis had apologized over such a misuse of her frey cat numerous times and had returned her, with Faeana, to the Freyja. He would not have such a power over her again, so causing even more strife was unneeded. "Those ruins are avoided by Freyja for good reason. No beast that wanders them ever returns."

"Yes, Father. But what of Marquis’s wish for peace?"

"He is a liar." The statement took Faeana aback, and she didn’t know how to respond. "While you were missing, the Fenrir attacked and killed nearly a hundred more of our soldiers. He might have offered you words of peace, but the Keisere does not speak true. I will not deal with a two-headed snake."

So she had been right not to trust him in the beginning . . . The news was crushing. "I see."

"I will speak with Patreos now. He will need time to recover from the storm that almost killed his frey cat. In the meantime, Faeana, you should return to your quarters and try to get some rest. You are pale."

She nodded politely and excused herself.

In the hall, Patreos caught Faeana as they crossed paths. "Faeana?" He looked tired and torn, and determined. "I–"

She did not have the strength to face him, so she informed him curtly, "My father will see you now." The dismissal was sharp, and he left with a torn expression. She could feel that he was still having difficulty maintaining the Freyja calm, and his cat Patre was not with him, as the frey cat was too weak to wander about as freely as it had always done.

Patreoswas given a leave of absence, where he would seek solitary confinement in the Giant’s Forest to restrengthen his bond with Patre. Faeana resumed her duties at court, finishing her preparations to accept the Freyja crown, but her thoughts often returned to Marquis, especially when she learned that even more Freyja had been killed since. And more Fenrir.

She grew conflicted the more she thought about their encounter. He had seemed desperate to end the war between them, and yet more were dying now. What crept up into her mind most often was the evidence that most of the Fenrir had withdrawn. In court she heard whispers that the Fenrir had called upon demons that rose from the shadows of the night, and she recalled his sickened expression when he had told her he could not contain what was to come if they could not reach peace, and soon.

What had he done?

If he was telling the truth about his desire for peace, then either there was something to the frightened rumors spreading among the Freyja armies, or his people were rising against his order not to tread beyond their borders into the conflict zone. Had he lost control of his people? Were they rebelling against him when he wanted peace? Or was something else going on?