“Have?” Adora blinked. “What do you mean?” 

His eyes were emotionless as they met mine. He leaned down, grabbed my upper arm and pulled me up in one swift movement.

“What do you think I mean?” he said, turning to the queen again. He released my arm and snaked his around my waist. Then he yanked me flush against his body, holding me so tight I thought his claws would rip a hole in my side. The gesture was mechanical and passionless, but obvious in its intent. 

“Oh.” Adora’s lips curled in disgust and embarrassment and she looked away. “I suppose there is no accounting for taste. But you are far too beautiful to waste yourself on such a creature. Surely there are others who would … enjoy your company.” She slid her hand along her upper thigh, pretending to brush  some dust off her dress.  

“You do not want her polluting your court. I have interests which she will serve eagerly, if she knows what is good for her,” Valerien said, voice smooth and suggestive. “Give her to me, and I will make sure she is … taken care of.” 

Adora hesitated, looking as though she was about to hurl at the thought of the statuesque Valerien in bed with me. Then she nodded once and flicked her hand in our direction. 

“As you wish. I shan’t stand between you and your … bliss? May it sate your, er, peculiar hungers, consul.” 

Valerien bowed curtly again before pulling me aside, away from the guards and Severin, who was watching closely. I wanted to scream and beg for the queen to reconsider, to help me, to make her understand what her subject had done wrong and how she could so easily make it right. But I couldn’t even bring myself to turn back. And Valerien was still squeezing my side, holding me tighter against him every time I hesitated. So I followed, out of the queen’s sight and into the strange forest that continued beyond the throne room.

We walked in silence for a while, Valerien’s grip hard as iron. Our footsteps did not echo. I had no idea where we were anymore; all around us were sparse trees and a green haze, occasionally lit up by more fireflies as we passed. It was a dream landscape, a feeling more than a real place. 

Once we arrived at the shore of what looked to be an overgrown swamp, Valerien finally let me go, but instead of heading for the wooden bridge that continued out over the green water and disappeared into the mist, he went straight to the edge of the water itself. 

“What—” 

“Not now.” That was all he said. 

He raised his left hand into the air and the water before him stirred as if pulled by the gesture. Slowly, like a thick, translucent blanket, it lifted. Not a single drop fell to the dry bank, not a single fish remained to gasp for air. 

I gaped in awe. I’d seen this before when Valerien had been a stag, but realizing he was indeed controlling the element with a flick of his wrist was surreal. 

The arch grew in length into a tunnel of water, disappearing downward into darkness.

Valerien glanced over his shoulder, arm still raised.

”After you.” 

Nobody could blame me for hesitating. I bit my lip and craned my neck to get a glimpse of the end of the tunnel. He wouldn’t go to these lengths only to drown me, would he? I could swim, but if he dropped that amount of water onto my head, it wouldn’t make any difference. 

”Go on,” Valerien said, motioning toward the entrance of the water cave with his free hand. ”If I wanted to drown you, I would have done so much earlier.” 

”Is that supposed to reassure me?” 

”It is supposed to get you to move.” 

The threat was doing the opposite of endearing him to me.

I took a deep breath and tried to appear casual as I passed him, but my legs felt like dough and I had trouble finding my footing in the silt. The light from the fireflies shone through the water above me, glittering like jewels. 

It was oddly silent. Perfectly dry plants and earth crunched gently under each step. 

Valerien followed me, hand raised above his head now as the opening behind him closed and the water enveloped us. We continued down as water lifted before me and lowered to the bottom behind him. I was sheepishly relieved he was down here with me and wanted to say something to that effect, but there was nothing to say. 

”Not much farther now,” he said once we were so deep below that he’d summoned a light to guide me forward. 

”Where are we going?” I asked despite knowing the answer wouldn’t be very enlightening. 

”Sorrow’s Nest, a patch of land in the Overgrowth which stands uncontested. Nobody will come for you there.”

Lovely.

The path tilted uphill, and there was a light somewhere at the end, spilling across a different earth. There were fewer plants growing here, but instead, fish were swimming above. Tiny slices of silver scattered as we passed them. 

At the end was another threshold of swirling water. I quickened my step, unable to contain my curiosity, and emerged at the other end of the tunnel.

The sky above was bright blue and soft yellow, and the golden rays of the low sun poured through the still-blooming frozen trees and grass, making everything sparkle a thousand vivid colors. It was cold, but it didn’t bite through my clothes or make me shiver and freeze. Instead it enveloped me softly, gently, without hurting. 

It was the most comforting thing I’d felt in a while. There was a breeze, but it served only to make the ice crystals clink together and form the quietest of melodies.

I looked back to see where we’d come from: a small, still lake, ice spreading in snowflake patterns across the surface.

”How much distance did we just cover?” I asked breathlessly. 

Valerien gave me a bored glare, ”Weeks’ worth of travel at your pace, I imagine.” 

I couldn’t tell if that was meant to be insulting or informative, but I was too busy being impressed to care. Weeks’ worth of travel in a few moments …

”Was that magic?” 

He only quirked his brow in disbelief, but it was answer enough. Hope started to build now, threatening to make me optimistic. 

With this man’s help, I could save Sinéad, no matter where she was. Whatever he wanted in return, I’d give it.

“Here.” 

He gestured at my still-manacled wrists. I lifted them into his outstretched hand and watched as he used the long nail of his pointer finger to cut clean through the metal. The spot where he’d held my waist ached as if remembering something that never happened.

There was no clunk when the manacles fell to the ground; they’d simply disappeared.

“Come.” He was already many steps ahead.

I was barely tall enough for my head to reach his shoulders and had to half-run so I wouldn’t fall behind his long-legged strides. And it was hard not to do that, since the gentle sunset and snowy landscape were breathtaking. 

“You told the queen you wanted me,” I said carefully. “That was a lie, right?” 

“Was it?” Valerien threw me a glance, his expression unreadable. “I do want you. But I let her fill in the blanks with whichever truth made the most sense to her.” 

“And you don’t mind her assuming … what she assumed?” 

“It was not ideal. Had you not started mouthing off, she would have simply thrown you back into the Overgrowth. And I was not expecting Severin to be present at all. Both of them knowing about my acquisition of you could be problematic.” He gave me another glare, this one made more potent by the slight curl of his upper lip. “But I did what I had to. And so will you.” 

It was hard to ignore the threat in his reply. 

Instead of snapping at him, I chose to stay silent and be grateful he didn’t actually “want” me in the sense that the queen believed, not that there had been any point during this whole journey where I’d believed it myself. 

I was happy to be free, at least for the time being. And Sinéad would be safe from Severin for three months. Whatever Valerien was planning had better be quick.

The crystalline forest soon cleared to reveal a three-story stone mansion atop a hill, tall and gray and miserable. Its architecture was closer to what I was familiar with, unlike the fairy tale castle from before. Despite its size, it was neither lavish nor intimidating. It looked like it had been neglected and discarded for decades and was standing on its last leg. Ivy that would’ve been delicate and pretty clung desperately to the facade, reaching into cracks and through missing windows. One of the four columns of the portico had been shattered for decades, moss covering its remains where they lay strewn on the ground. Grass and weeds reached up between the stones that surrounded the mansion, the pattern of the path so distorted it was impossible to tell what it had been before its ruin. 

There was a tragic beauty to it all. 

”This is your home?” I asked. 

Valerien himself was so pristine that it was difficult to imagine him living in this glorified collection of old stone and rubble. 

”No. But I live here.” 

What an odd answer. 

”It is not pretty, but it is safe. That should do, should it not?”

I wasn’t sure how to reply.

The wide stone walkway toward the entrance of Sorrow’s Nest was lined with a dozen large, white statues. Some looked like strange horned people with goat legs dancing. Another was a wolf with two heads being constricted by a snake. One depicted a large hawk tearing at the eyes of a screeching horse. All statues were covered in a thick layer of ice, and sharp icicles hung precariously from arms and wings and tails. 

I glanced at the back of Valerien’s head as we walked. His short hair was black but shone blue and green like the feathers of a raven. Or a magpie, I supposed. 

Were these small glimpses caught in the right moment and made eternal, or had the figures always been stone? Maybe he’d created these. Ice and water were the same, after all. Maybe he’d demand to add me to his chilling collection in return for his help in saving Sinéad. By now, I could think of worse fates.

We came to a set of large wooden doors, which opened on their own as soon as Valerien approached. He didn’t offer me to go in first this time, but I followed him regardless.

Sorrow’s Nest continued to live up to its name. The dark hallway appeared in disrepair; traces of old grace lingered in the high ceiling and elaborate metal railings of the spiral stairway. The floor was made of dark wood, creaking and groaning under each step, some bloated with age and water damage. The tall windows on each side of the entrance were covered half up by heavy, dusty curtains, half by dirt and grime that hadn’t been cleaned in decades. 

I stood awkwardly in the doorway as Valerien peeled off his coat. He’d been keeping the hand that had touched me closed this whole time, and wasn’t using it.

“I’m not contagious, you know,” I scoffed, staring at him as he held his coat between the thumb and finger of his “dirty” hand as if it were covered in manure. 

“I certainly hope not.” He draped the coat gingerly over his arm. “I have very delicate senses, and you are an assault on most of them.” 

With the coat off, I noticed his dark silk shirt draped loosely over his shoulders, exposing a long sliver of pale skin and artfully sculpted muscle almost down to the navel. Though Dorotea wasn’t large or wealthy enough to have any of our own, I vaguely remembered the concept of a dandy. How lucky I was to finally be in the presence of one, I thought snidely to myself, because he did seem like the sort to be preoccupied with appearances. 

I crossed my arms. “So how do you intend to help me find Sinéad?” 

“I have a few ideas. First things first, however: Briar!”

I flinched at his shouting, then again as a tiny form blinked into existence right next to him, screaming, ”What!”

The sudden newcomer was a woman twice my age, but barely tall enough to reach my hip, with blond hair and pale skin and a sweet, chubby face. It was rude to stare, but I couldn’t help it: I’d never seen anyone this small aside from children and those horrible trolls. 

She stared at me, too.

“Finally awake,” Briar said cryptically without taking her eyes off me. There was something resembling fear in them, though I couldn’t imagine why. 

Valerien didn’t seem to notice her discomfort.

“Have her washed and clothed.”

“Right.”

“What?” I gawked at them both. “What do you mean ‘washed and clothed?’”

“Would you prefer not to be washed and clothed?” Valerien replied, eyes narrowing. Clearly he wouldn’t tolerate any resistance on this particular matter. 

I chewed my lip. I wanted to stare defiantly at him and say that no, I didn’t care for either of those things, but he was right. I desperately needed a bath and a new set of clothes, or at least a clean set of the same ones. So I relented. 

“What was her name again?” Briar asked, looking at Valerien instead of me. 

“Sidra,” he replied before I could even open my mouth. 

“Right. How come you have a fae name, human?” 

I frowned at her. This was the first time I’d heard anything about it being a “fae name,” if such a thing even existed. Though it seemed quite like the fae to claim a name as theirs. 

“I don’t know anything about that. My mother used to say it means ‘little star,’ if that pleases you.” 

For the first time in our admittedly brief acquaintanceship, the mask of arrogant indifference that was Valerien’s face cracked and he stared at me, lips parted in astonishment. The expression on his face was akin to childlike wonder, innocence and delight mixed with confusion, which didn’t fit the image of him I’d constructed in my head at all. And — though I was sure my eyes had fooled me — I thought I saw his ears tilt upward. 

The expression passed as suddenly as it’d come, and he nodded towards Briar.

“That will be all for now.”