Lauki's Arc

Chapter 18 of 18

The fey door closed behind them. Lauki stood in Conrad's hall, Torra at his side in the winter court's black gown. The fey king and queen had already spoken their pledge and departed, their frost still melting on the stone floor. Conrad sat at the head of the hall, cane across his knees. His steel eyes moved from the crown on Torra's head to the ring on her hand. He was not swayed. "Kings speak for you," Conrad said. "Fey silk clothes you. But I have not heard the one voice that matters." He looked at his daughter. "Torra has never told me she wants this. She stands silent, as she always stands silent before me." The hall waited. In the corner leaned the druid Thandrel Thornweave, the one who had given Lauki the ring. His hooded green robe was stitched with black and red roses, and his oak staff glowed with purple runes. He said nothing, but his golden eyes fixed on Torra. His crystal-topped staff hummed low, a sound that carried even through silence. Lauki understood the trap. Conrad wanted her words, not his deeds. And Torra never spoke her heart aloud. Her father read her quiet as doubt. If she stayed silent now, every gift and oath meant nothing. Lauki stepped forward. "Then let her tell you," he said. "Not me. Not a king. Her. In front of everyone here." He turned to Torra. Her yellow eyes were wide. Her hands gripped the fey silk. She had fled her fortress for him, accepted his ring, worn a queen's crown. But she had never once faced her father and spoken. "You do not have to," Lauki said, softer. "But if you want this, say it now." Torra looked at her father. The whole hall stared. Her jaw tightened. For a long moment she said nothing, and Conrad's grip shifted on his cane, as if he had his answer. Then Torra let go of the silk. "I chose him," she said. Her voice was flat and clear. "I left my fortress. I took his ring. No one forced me." She held up her hand so the red stone caught the light. "I want Lauki. Refuse it, Father, and you refuse me." The hall went still. Thandrel's staff flared bright, and the crystal pulsed once. "The fey ring answers only to true love," the druid said, his whisper filling the room. "It sits on her hand and does not burn. She speaks the truth." Conrad rose slowly. He studied his daughter, then Lauki. Something in his cold face broke. He had never heard her speak against him before. "So," he said. "You would defy me to your face." He set his cane down hard. "Then I cannot call it doubt." He did not give his blessing. But he did not forbid it. He turned toward the hall's inner doors. "We will speak the terms," Conrad said. "Come."