Beyond the Mountain (Fae's Captive #4) - Lily Archer Page 0,47

in the hopes that she will explain the incursion. Being that she is coming here in person, I can only assume those hostilities are ended. But she owes us an explanation. We already have a handful of nobles clamoring for war.”

“Oh.” My thoughts stray to Taylor. How will she look? What colors will she choose? Is she nervous?

“Leander.” Gareth’s voice is tinged with exasperation. “Are you listening?”

“Yes.” No. “Go on.”

“She waits for you in your study.”

“Right now?” I turn to him.

“She wants a word before the ceremony.”

I twist my crown back to the right. “I will not keep my mate waiting for anyone, not even the summer queen.”

“Well, you’re in luck, because Taylor isn’t ready yet. That roommate of hers has taken over, bossing everyone about like a—”

“I’ll meet with the queen.” I run a hand down my black attire, the gray thread along my collar catching the light. “Do you think Taylor would have preferred the silver thread?”

“No.” He gestures to the door. “Queen Aurentia.”

I follow him out and down the hall, every guard in the castle lining the corridors as guests arrive for the ceremony. I catch Taylor’s scent as I pass our bedroom, and it takes an intense force of will not to burst in and get a pre-ceremony taste.

“Focus.” Gareth strides next to me.

I grunt in response.

A small contingent of summer realm soldiers cluster outside my study door, their eyes wary as they part for us to pass.

Queen Aurentia’s back is to us as we enter, her gaze on the snowy courtyard. “It’s been so long since I’ve visited winter.” She presses a palm to the glass. “I’d almost forgotten what it is to be cold.” Turning, she walks to us, her lilac coat pulled tight around her.

“Would you care to explain Tavaran’s incursion now or later?” I put the bite of winter into my tone.

“Now.” She folds her hands in front of her. “I sent Tavaran through the border—thank you for returning him unharmed, by the way.”

“We aren’t needlessly cruel in the winter realm, no matter what the summer realm propaganda says,” Gareth bites out.

I cut to the heart of the matter. “Why did you break the truce?”

Her silver eyes lower, and a tired sigh flows from her. “I felt I had to. But we do not seek war.” Her gaze meets mine again. “I sent Tavaran to capture your changeling—”

“My mate, you mean.”

She nods. “Forgive me. Yes, your mate. After you had left Byrn Varyndr, I began having strange dreams. At first, I believed they were memories of the last war resurfacing. I ignored them, and they seemed to fade. But the night before the incursion, I had one so vivid, so real, that I realized the dreams weren’t memories. They were new. Your mate appeared in them, but she was … different. It was then I understood the dreams were prophetic. They were of the coming war. The disappearances, your mate, the king beyond the mountain—all of it was linked. And my dreams foretold that if the king beyond the mountain was able to capture your mate, then it would set all of the death and destruction that I saw—” She touches her temple. “In here, in motion. So, I attempted to stop it by bringing Taylor back to Byrn Varyndr where she would be safe, and I ordered Tavaran to use any means necessary.”

Gareth crosses his arms over his chest. “You expect us to believe you violated a hard-won treaty over a dream?”

“It is the truth. Make of it what you will. I have no intentions to break the treaty or start a war with your realm. I only wanted to keep her safe and away from the king beyond the mountain.” She turns back to the window. “But my spies tell me I was too late, and that perhaps our incursion served as the distraction Shathinor needed to take Taylor.”

“You knew it was Shathinor and didn’t tell me?” I don’t bother hiding my contempt.

“Of course not.” Her golden-crowned head lowers, her voice softening even more. “I only learned that after his destruction. I fear my sight has not been clear over the last few decades. The dreams were the only harbinger of knowledge, and they came too late.”

I rub the bridge of my nose. “This can be remedied. My nobles will demand a formal apology from the summer realm for the incursion.”

“Granted.” She waves a hand.

“And we should collaborate on the equality decrees that Taylor seeks. If both the summer and