Page 12 of Hearts Lost

ALOSERIN

TWO OF US

“Only two came through this portal,” I say, raising my eyebrow at the woman with the terrified expression who just stepped forward to stand beside Princess Elanerill.

“You think I would send my only granddaughter into unknown lands without a single attendant?” King Grathgore asks.

He’s smirking like the cat who spilled the cream, and something deep inside me prickles with suspicion. That old son of a bitch is up to something, and I’ll be damned if I can figure it out right now, moments before I’m supposed to enter the portal with Princess Elanerill. Clearly, this woman standing beside the princess with her hands crossed behind her back is more than she appears, but I can’t assess the exact nature of the threat she possesses. Not right here.

“Your granddaughter is going to her wedding day,” I reply.

“Sire,” Elanerill adds, with a soft smile. “I will be perfectly safe. The Kingdom of the Fall will respect the Kingdom of the Summer. We seek to unify our kingdoms—”

“All the more reason,” the king booms, cutting Elanerill off with all the subtlety of a blunt longsword. “If this were a proper betrothal, we’d send you off with a hundred men. Going to your wedding day with only one handmaiden, why, it’s almost scandalous.”

Judging from the stiff backs and ready blades of the guards stationed in a ring around the perimeter of this crystal-roofed room, King Grathgore’s wide smile is almost as convincing as his friendly old man routine. I grit my teeth and try to look diplomatic. Meanwhile, Lythienne’s blithe reassurances play through my mind, making me feel even worse. Oh, yes, the portal should work both ways, she’d said. You’ll find out.

Great. So we might step through that portal and find ourselves back in Orryen’s tower in the Lands Below. Or we might stumble through and find ourselves on the other side of this crystal-roofed room with a bit of explaining to do.

Or we might just all die. Death before dishonor, I tell myself, forcing a smile.

“You wouldn’t deny an old man one final gift to his departing granddaughter, would you?” King Grathgore asks in a way that doesn’t sound much like a question.

I turn my gaze back to the woman standing beside Princess Elanerill. She’s wearing a simple and flattering green linen dress decorated with ribbons, the kind of thing a high-ranking servant would wear. She also looks very familiar. It’s possible I haven’t seen her before, but I’d be willing to bet a year’s worth of Royal Guard wages that she’s the woman who’d been standing next to Elanerill yesterday. With a sword on her hip. Even now, she’s standing at attention like a woman who’s had significant martial training. She might have half a dozen blades hidden under that innocuous linen dress.

That thought gives rise to an unwelcome flicker of arousal; I turn away. This poor woman probably feels like she’s just been selected for the worst job in the Worlds Above, and the last thing she needs is me ogling her.

“Fine,” I say, through a clenched jaw.

King Grathgore bares his teeth in an expression that is perhaps supposed to resemble a smile. And the bastard’s got every right to look smug, I suppose. He did just win this round.

Stifling my sigh, I give the woman standing beside Elanerill a curt nod. She acknowledges me with the slightest flicker in her stoic expression. She looks tough, competent, and scared to death, and damn it, I feel for her. She’s almost assuredly a weapon of some sort, a spy or assassin following some private orders from King Grathgore. But she’s also a woman who’s been selected for a crap mission to a terrifying kingdom where she’s probably expecting to be killed.

And, yes, I know how she feels. I know exactly how she feels.

I take a deep breath and turn back toward the portal. Heat pours off the shifting, shimmering air. It’s strangely uncomfortable, almost oily. There’s something about this heart magic portal that feels wrong, and I can’t help but notice that all the soldiers standing in an orderly ring around the perimeter of the room are all looking somewhere else.

This is probably an occasion where I should say something noble and inspiring. Something about reuniting the kingdoms, or taking the first steps toward peace, or maybe something sappy about Orryen and Elanerill’s impending marriage. But the only words that come to mind are the ones engraved upon one of the ancient shields in my family’s great hall, and Death Before Dishonor hardly fits these circumstances.

I twist my lips into a grin and offer Princess Elanerill my arm.

“My Lady?” I ask.

Elanerill slips her fingers into the crook of my arm and gives me a smile. She looks almost giddy, and my chest feels tight. This woman is from the Worlds Above, she’s the damned heir to the Kingdom of the Summer, and she looks a thousand times happier to be returning to my doomed, subterranean kingdom than I’ve ever been. In fact, I don’t think I’ve ever felt that happy about anything.

Great. I force myself to nod politely to the soldiers within my range of vision, which includes the woman in the green dress who’s being forced upon us, and then I take a step forward. And another. And another.

The heat of the portal rolls through the air, wrapping around me like a living being. Beside me, Elanerill makes a sharp little gasping sound. For a heartbeat, I feel like I’m going to burst into flames, like I can’t possibly take this strange, searching, searing heat.

And then my boots hit something hard, and cold air pushes against my face. There’s another gasp; it might have come from me. Then hands on my shoulders, hands pulling me upright. I blink. Blink again. It’s so dark here. Has it always been so dark here?

“Elanerill!”

The voice is directly beside me, and I’d recognize it anywhere. Orryen. My closest friend and commanding officer, the one whose position I was never quite able to fill. My vision swims, then settles into focus. Just in time for me to see Orryen break away from the crowd of people in the room, rush past me, and embrace the princess from the Worlds Above.

“You did it,” Orryen says. “You found me.”

His voice is soft, almost a whisper, but it carries throughout the entire room. Elanerill smiles up at him like he’s the answer to every question she’s ever asked.