"But you didn't know it then," I huffed. "Please, at least try to understand." I shuffled to the side and gestured to where Nellie stood. "Nellie is my friend," I said. "And she is, absolutely, without a doubt, human. Do you hate her?"
He lifted his eyes and looked at her across the room. His lips curled down, but he shook his head. "I don't particularly care for her either way," he stated, "but no, I don't hate her."
"Then it's just a race you hate," I said. "And I can promise you, they have been hurt just as much as you have by this war. Hating someone without reason simply for being something that they cannot change is worthless. Hate does nothing but perpetuate itself, but love … understanding … care. Those things can do so much more." I rested my hand against his chest and pushed myself against him. "You're a Prince of Frost." I lowered my voice so that only he and I could hear. "You will be a King someday. Don't be a King that perpetuates something so evil. Be the King I know you can be."
Sorrell looked at me, his icy gaze holding such uncertainty. I bit my lip and waited. "I don't trust humans," he admitted.
"I'm not asking you to trust them," I said. "I'm asking you to trust me—to trust Roan and Orion. You trust them, right?"
His gaze lifted and over the top of my head, he looked to them. Without looking back to me, he sighed. "Yes," he agreed, "I do."
"Then give this a try," I urged. "Don't let your hatred for humans color your view of what's right. They deserve to rule themselves just as Fae deserve the same."
This time, when Sorrell looked back at me, it was with a peculiar expression. Not exactly one I could pinpoint. It was as if he were looking at something new, something he didn't quite recognize, and yet he was trying to understand how it worked.
"You sound like a Royal," he said.
"A Royal?" I frowned.
Nellie was the one that answered. She stepped up alongside us and reached for my hand. "He means you sound wise," she clarified. Her eyes rose to meet his, but instead of hatred or disgust in Sorrell's eyes when he looked back to her, all I saw was begrudging respect.
The moment was disrupted, however, when Groffet waddled forward and slammed a book down on a nearby table. "Found it!" he called.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Cress
"What do we have to do?" Roan demanded. He stepped up to look over Groffet's shoulder, towering over the small troll.
"A spell," Groffet explained. "One that will identify the closest lineal Royal heir to the Kingdom of Amnestia."
"Okay," I said as the rest of us gathered closer. "What do we need to do to pull it off and how are we going to get to them when we do locate them?"
"One thing at a time," Orion said gently as he came to stand at my side. With him against one arm and Sorrell against the other, I felt pinned, yet safe. I inhaled sharply and forced my attention back to the spell.
The words on the page were all a jumbled mess to me. Try as I might to read over Groffet's shoulder like everyone else, it was Fae language—something the nuns definitely hadn't taught us in school. "What does it say?" I asked.
"We will need a mirror," Groffet said, flicking his hand out.
Ash rushed to the other side of the library and came back a moment later, lugging a large covered object. With a grunt he set it down several feet to the side of the table and then pulled the sheet that had shielded it away, revealing a tall, ornately carved mirror. Groffet nodded in thanks and then went back to reading the book.
He grumbled something to himself, turned, and when he found the majority of his audience less than a foot from him, he huffed and pushed his way through.
"It'll require magic, correct?" Sorrell inquired.
"Yes."
"Will it need the three of us?" Roan asked.
"No."
"What do we need to do?" Nellie asked.
"Nothing."
It was clear Groffet was growing agitated by all the questions. I watched as he flitted about the room, shoving books off of their carefully placed-though haphazard looking-stacks. A wooden bowl was scrounged from beneath another table. Dusty papers were procured. A vial of something that disturbingly resembled blood, and a bag that was as big as it was shapeless also appeared.