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.
The witch took two steps toward him, leaned in and whispered, “Drakkar, the princess is a guenipe.”
Frey instantly relaxed.
“I’m aware.”
The witch’s brows shot up then she started, “The Princess Finnie –”
He cut her off. “My wife, too, is aware.”
She leaned back, visibly surprised at this news, and she surveyed him.
Then she stated, “This may be so, and Valentine reports the dalliances are discreet, but nevertheless, she is living the life of your wife in that other world and no matter how discreet, word has a way of getting out. Valentine tells me it is there not like it is here. There are people who do not accept the guenipes. There are even those who are violently opposed to them.”
Finnie had told him of this curious fact about her world, something not shared with his own. Frey himself had no issue with guenipes, unless, of course, he was pledged to marry one.
“This is true, witch, but as Finnie will never return to that world, it matters not.”
“Perhaps she will not agree,” Agnes suggested.
“I can assure you she already knows and she does not care,” Frey stated then crossed his arms on his chest and his brows went up. “You travelled all the way from Lunwyn for this?”
She shook her head. “No. This is not the only news. It isn’t even half of it.”
Gods damn it.
“Spit it out,” he clipped.
“There have been many communications back and forth. Many communications,” she stressed. “And Princess Sjofn is aware of the perils the Princess Finnie is facing, including the assassination attempts.”
“And?” Frey prompted.
“And she is feeling great guilt about these perils,” her face went slightly hard before she went on, “as she should. Through our communications both Valentine and I have become aware that the Princess Sjofn has been far from forthright with your Finnie.”
After that, the witch said no more.
“And this matters because…?” Frey asked, losing patience.
“It matters because her guilt is ascending. She’s becoming frantic about these perils she’s placed Finnie under. She’s gravely concerned something will befall her. Princess Sjofn is highly trained and rightly feels she is better equipped to deal with these threats, as she has proven in the past. And I can assure you, Drakkar, that communication is not easy for me and it is not cheap for Princess Sjofn. Every time she sends a message through Valentine, she pays dearly for it and the messages are coming one on the heels of another.”
When she quit speaking, Frey lifted his brows, not about to prompt her again.
“Drakkar,” she snapped, “it is not her currency Princess Sjofn is using. It is your Finnie’s.”
“Again, this matters not,” Frey replied. “Finnie has no further use of that currency. She is mine and my coin and property are hers. And, woman, I’ll remind you she has taken over the life of Sjofn and is now a princess with her own funds and property, that property being a bloody palace.”