Court of Winter (Fae of Snow & Ice, #1)(21)

“Isn’t that what just happened?” I challenged.

“What happened,” Nish replied, his teeth grinding together, “was that Prince Norivun acted in the realm’s best interest. That fairy’s wife came to him for help, so he did what was asked.”

My hands clenched together underneath the table. Nails biting into my palms, I retorted, “I don’t think she asked him to kill her husband. Besides, don’t the supernatural courts usually deal with domestic matters like that? He didn’t need to murder that fairy, especially since the prince is obviously a capable fighter. He could have restrained Mealow’s husband even if her husband had been in his ice bear form. Or at least, he could have tried.”

Nish’s glare increased, and he leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms. “How many fairies in their ice bear form have you restrained?”

I frowned. “None. Obviously.”

“Then you don’t know the death rate significantly increases for bystanders when such an arrest is attempted.”

I swallowed, remembering what Haxil had hinted at. “No, I didn’t know that. But wasn’t it worth at least trying? Until it became apparent it would be too unsafe?”

Haxil gave me a warning look, but I ignored him and leveled Nish with a heavy glare.

“And risk lives?” Nish snorted. “No. On the continent, when troubles rise swiftly and justice must be enacted quickly, the Death Master does what’s needed and must make decisions without a second thought. So stop your righteous judging in matters of which you know nothing.”

My pulse leaped, and I barely contained myself from lashing out at him. Because even if he was right that the prince had made the best decision in Mealow’s house, I’d seen other kinds of justice the prince had delivered. When one went to him with concerns about the crops or concerns about a missing son, the prince didn’t help those troubled fae. Oh no. He silenced them by murdering them. So I did know a thing or two about the prince’s matters.

Sneering, I replied, “I suppose murder is one way to keep the peace.”

Nish’s wings extended, the leathery appendages nearly knocking into the chimney.

Ryder clamped a hold of Nish’s shoulder as he gave me a withering glower. “Enough.”

“Fine with me.” Pushing back from the table, I stood. “I’d like to go to my room now.”

“And what if I’m still finishing my ale, princess?” Nish replied, his eyes dark as he finally pulled his wings back in tight. “Wouldn’t want you roaming around these halls and coming to any harm.”

“Nish,” Haxil growled. “Enough for you too.”

Nish waved an angry hand toward me. “She disrespected our prince.”

Haxil nodded. “As I’m aware.”

Nish’s lip curled. “If the prince didn’t want her, I’d—”

“Enough!” Haxil roared.

Sandus crossed his arms, and though he remained quiet, he gave me a surly expression, as if I was to blame for the discontent growing within their group.

Ignoring both of them, I followed Haxil to the bar.

Haxil drummed his fingers on the bar top. “Milis? She’s ready to turn in for the night. Can you show me which room is hers?”

Milis gave an overly bright smile. “Of course, follow me.”

She led us toward the stairs, then up to the second floor. A long hallway waited, and my eyes immediately darted about, wondering what room the prince had disappeared into.

Milis’s small wings fluttered slightly, and she lifted inches from the floor before flying slowly down the hallway. Only Solis with small wings could maneuver such tight quarters within buildings. The prince and his guards certainly wouldn’t be able to.

Milis led us to a room several doors down, then inserted a key in a lock.

“Here? Really?” Haxil asked.

Milis shrugged. “That’s what he said.”

She opened the door to a large sleeping quarter. A huge bed, which could easily sleep two adult fae with their wings slightly extended, sat near the wall. Beside it was a glass table with a fairy light hovering above it, and across from it, a small living area complete with a couch and two chairs.

“Blessed, this is so—” I didn’t even know what to say. It was by far the nicest room I’d ever seen. My entire home could fit into this one chamber. “It’s wonderful. Thank you.” I rubbed my arms, trying to ward off the chill. Frost iced the windowpanes.

Milis gestured toward the windows. “The hearth below will warm this room through the night, but it will still be cool. At this time of the season, as you know, winter starts creeping in.”

“It’s fine, truly. Thank you,” I said again because it was. This lodge room was warmer than my home by at least twenty degrees. Last winter, Cailis and I had nearly frozen to death since we hadn’t been able to afford the firewood needed to keep our hearth going around the clock.

Haxil prowled the room, checking the wardrobe and attached latrine. “Are the wards the same as always?”

Milis’s wings stopped fluttering as she drifted to the floor. “Yes, Haxil. Without being granted the key or allowed entry by me or the room’s recipient, visitors are not allowed to step over the threshold. The magic forbids it. Your guest shall be safe.”