Then he watched the chateau’s housekeeper come in, stop and announce, “There is a woman here who says she urgently needs to speak with your princess.”
Frey sighed again.
Of this, he had no doubt. As in Houllebec, Finnie wasted no time befriending nearly everyone in the village. It was not unusual that a woman came calling so she could sit with coffee or wine and his wife and they could cackle about whatever women cackled about.
The urgency of the message, however, slightly surprised him.
“And she is?” Frey asked although he really did not care.
“Says her name is Agnes. She’s of your land, my lord,” the housekeeper replied but at her first five words, the burn in Frey’s gut and chest changed as ice encased his innards and then crawled through his veins.
“Bring her to me immediately and she is not seen nor does she see my princess,” Frey ordered, the housekeeper nodded and swept out.
Frey lifted a hand to his neck and his fingers squeezed. He did not turn back to the window. He waited for the witch to come through the door.
When she did, he dropped his hand and waited for the housekeeper to close it behind her.
“I thought I made myself clear,” he stated quietly, his eyes locked with her faded blue ones.
“You did, Drakkar,” she replied just as quietly.
“If this is true, you’re here because?” he prompted.
“I have an urgent message for your Finnie,” she told him.
“And you did the last time we spoke in Lunwyn. And my message to you was that you do not see or speak to my wife,” Frey returned.
What was now months ago, just days after Frey and Finnie argued over Viola, Stephan had intercepted the witch Agnes when she visited the Winter Palace and demanded to speak to the princess. For obvious reasons, his men vetted anyone who made such a demand. Upon hearing who she was Steph wisely brought her to Frey.
It took some doing but Frey had convinced her to share the message she had for Finnie and this was a message Frey himself had not, at that time, yet delivered to his wife. The message was that Finnie’s witch from her world, a woman called Valentine, had sensed the elves binding spell and she had communicated with this Agnes to warn Finnie this had happened and awaited instruction on what she should be doing in her world to rectify the situation.
Frey had, at the time, lied to Agnes saying Finnie was well aware this had happened and was happy to remain in his world. And he had paid her to communicate the same to this Valentine.
He had also warned her not to see or try to speak to Finnie without seeing him first. He paid her for that too. He’d also made it very clear what would befall her if she reneged on their deal.
Since then, of course, he and Finnie had spoken of where she came from and his falsehood had turned true.
Frey knew straight to the depths of his soul, more and more as every moment passed with his wife, that she was pleased she’d risked her venture and, in the end, been bound to him as his wife and thus to his world.
What Agnes would travel to Hawkvale to communicate, and risk communicating it, he could not fathom nor did he wish to know.
But he had no choice but to find out.
And his concern was that something had befallen one of the friends his wife spoke so lovingly about. This was something that would cause Finnie distress for she felt deeply, especially when she came to care about someone but even when she hardly knew them.
And if there were problems, Finnie would feel it. She would feel it worse for she could not return and do anything to help.
And he did not want his wife to feel distress but if this had happened, he was powerless to help except offer his neck for her to sob into and although he knew his presence soothed her, he also knew in such a case this would be no help at all.
“You did, Drakkar, but there is much news,” Agnes replied.
“And this news is?” Frey asked.
“Princess Sjofn, of our world,” she paused, “much is happening.”
Frey’s body got tight as the jagged shards of the ice slithering through his veins started scoring.
“And what is Princess Sjofn of our world up to?” Frey queried.