The Queen of Seint Loure

"The river ran backwards on the day the Queen vanished."

Jordy's words send a chill through my body. I should have known he would not leave well enough enough alone, should have known he would not volunteer to chaperone my daily activities without a motive. I had done fairly well in dodging him up until this point, but there is only so long you can postpone the inevitable. If it had been anyone else, I would have turned tail and stalked back to the castle. Jordy, as always, is the exemption.

On principle, I do my best not to think of Queen Isla, much like the rest of Seint Loure. She was a short-lived queen, crowned one day and pronounced missing the next. I had been away when she vanished. Lady Vern had insisted I spend a month in the ancestral home, had organized my travels and my schedules and every breath I would take from departure to homecoming.

(That trip was a punishment for taking Saele as my consort, for not behaving as the Council wished. Saele was gone as well when I returned, but not just her things, no. Her name was banished from thought, too.)

Isla wasn't from Seint Loure. I'm not actually sure where she lived before coming to us; she has just always been here. She was always a mystery to me. A girl sent from across the sea to play kings and queens with Ruk. Fresh blood. Young meat. A gift.

(That is what I heard Father call her once back when I was small and unmonitored and he was brash and alive. I had been sneaking around the throne room, using the tapestries to hide. Father had been speaking with Lady Vern, had said, "The girl is surely a gift, though from whom and for what I have not figured.")

Isla did not know the woods the way a child raised just on the edge of them does. She did not know of the faeries, of their razor sharp words and iron clad agreements. She did not know of the Council and their empty promises and double-edged lies. But I did--I do.

"I am aware, Jordy," I reply coldly.

Jordy is looking at the river. The water is flowing as expected, at least it is for this moment. I schlep my way to his side at the river's edge. I can feel my boots sinking into the bank, the mud cold even through the thick leather. From the corner of my eye I can see Jordy doing his best not to look for me in the corner of his own eye. I sigh deeply, a puff of smoke flowing from my mouth in the chill morning air. It looks like a part of my soul has escaped. "Must we do this?"

His response is quick. "So you acknowledge there is a this to be had?"

"You do not need to speak in riddles with me," I chide. I hate circular conversations, undertones, words left unsaid but misinterpreted nonetheless. "You will walk away with all your fingers and toes. Your tongue, too, if you manage not to tie it."

"Habit," he excuses, turning to look at me.

I do not look back. "Nasty one."

"King Ruk has reissued the search decree," he says pointedly.

"My brother is at the mercy of the Council's whims."

"He has offered blood jewels from his personal collection to anyone who aids in her safe return."

"It is an empty offer, Jordy," I snap. My voice has an edge to it, a bitterness I normally keep under lock and key, but I cannot find it in myself to feel sorry for it. He has always been fixated on our missing queen, on her tragically short-lived reign. I have always been short-tempered whenever Jordy is involved. "Queen Isla is gone. There is no finding her, there is no grand reward for her safe return. And if we were to stumble our way into actually finding her, she will surely not be some storybook damsel in a tower, she will be a pile of bones with a tree growing out of her chest."

Jordy's jaw snaps shut audibly, the crack of his teeth clenching together sending a new chill up my spine. He nods; once, twice. Takes a breath, opens his mouth to say something else, clenches his teeth shut again and nods.

It is hard to be the only person with clear vision in a harsh reality. Sure, Jordy grew up alongside Ruk and I, but he was not born in the throne room and christened in the thick of the woods. He is welcomed in the castle as a guest of Ruk first and a friend of me second, and I am sure the Council will disappear him if he fails to fit their mold.

I chance a glance over at him. His cheeks have gone red, though I cannot be sure what is emotion and what is from the cold. He looks equal parts defeated and disappointed. I was hoping for an easy, quiet morning; was looking forward to a moment alone with Jordy away from the Council and Court. Nothing is ever easy with Jordy.

"I am not trying to ruin things."

"I know."

"She was my friend, too."

"I know."

"I miss her, I do, but pretending that she is out there does little to help anyone."

"I know."

I take a breath. "The river ran backwards, Jordy. You know what that means."

"Not for sure, Cesten."

"Yes, for sure, Jordy. They took her. A fair deal."

"Can you be hopeful just once?"

"Can you be realistic?"

"Can you at least admit that there is the slimmest of chances that you are wrong?"

"Even if I am wrong and the fairies are not to blame, it is still too dangerous to question. Whatever has been done is done." I allow myself to look at him, allow him to see the grief slipping through the cracks of my mask. "People disappear here, Jordy."