Heir of Iron Hearts: Iron Crown Faerie Tales Book 2

by Bekah Harris

  Heir of Iron Hearts

  Bekah Harris

  Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Chapter 34

  Chapter 35

  Chapter 36

  Chapter 37

  Chapter 38

  Chapter 39

  About the Author

  Chapter One

  Ivy pushed away the tray of uneaten food and stared out the window. Pulling her knees into her chest, she watched the snow pour down from the gray sky, adding a fresh layer to the already blanketed ground. Since her arrival, the snow had been her only comfort. The only way she could relax was to watch it drift from the sky to the earth.

  It was beautiful here. But she missed the freedom of her mortal life. She had always felt so trapped within the confines of Kingston Academy, but there, she had been able to roam the campus, set her own class schedule, eat when she wanted, date who she wanted.

  But not here.

  Here, Ivy rose at dawn for combat lessons with Lochlan. Then, she cleaned up and ate breakfast before Lores, the court’s timekeeper, tutored her in the history and practices of the Winter Court and the larger Faerie world. After poring over books and maps for several hours, she met with Queen Lyric to make strained small talk about adjusting to her new role as Princess and the ever-present threat of their looming enemies. Finally, after taking a bath or shower, she had an hour of quiet time before dinner.

  In the evenings, there were receptions and parties and revelry. Madra and her team of Brownies would dress her up and paint her face so that her mother could parade her around like a prize. And Prince Ardan was always there, his ever-present smirk quirking up the side of his face as he examined her in amusement. As if he felt some secret delight in watching her stumble through her new life.

  Ivy hated him.

  Not because of his arrogance or his condescending smile. In truth, Ardan was gorgeous, and if she ever let her guard down, she might even be attracted to him. So far, he had behaved like the perfect gentleman. Still, there was something about his behavior that bothered Ivy. Everything, from his compliments to his gestures seemed too rehearsed. Fake, even. But that still wasn’t why Ivy despised him.

  Ivy hated Prince Ardan because of who he wasn’t. Which was unfair to him. When it came right down to it, Ardan probably felt just as trapped as she did.

  How long had Ivy been in the Winter Court? In the Seelie Realm? A week? A month? She was having more and more trouble keeping up with the passing of time. She missed school. She missed her classes. She missed Nan. She especially missed Jules.

  Oh, God, I’m so sorry, Jules.

  What would happen when Jules returned to Kingston after her winter break, expecting scandalous stories from Ivy’s romantic getaway, only to find an empty room? What would happen once Nan missed her emails and called the headmaster? What about her father? Would he even know—or care—that she was gone?

  A light tap at the door sent Ivy to her feet, wiping the moisture from her eyes. When she turned, Bear peeked inside the door, careful to avoid looking at her.

  “Your Highness, Mistress Violet has requested an audience with you.”

  It was so ridiculous, Ivy laughed.

  Your Highness, Milady, Princess.

  Requests for private audiences.

  It was so tiresome.

  But the last person Ivy had expected to knock at her door was Violet—her human counterpart in the dark exchange that had ruined both their lives and so many others. Both of them had been changelings. Neither of them had deserved her fate. Ivy felt a strange bond with Violet because of it.

  “Let her in,” Ivy said to Bear.

  As if he couldn’t wait to leave her presence, Bear disappeared behind the door to allow Violet room to pass. Ivy hadn’t seen Violet since the night of the binding ceremony. The night Alena, the Queen’s evil sister, had tried to kill her. The act had been a public test, a power play gone wrong—and if Ivy hadn’t been able to heal Violet, the Queen’s human daughter would have died.

  Not that Alena would have cared either way.

  Hopefully, her long lost auntie was regretting her impulsive test as she rotted away in the castle’s dungeons. Or whatever the Fae called their lairs of doom.

  Violet appeared in the doorway like a floating apparition. Trained to be a princess from her infancy, she possessed a grace Ivy could only dream of replicating. Free of her glamour, Violet looked every bit the human she was. Her heart-shaped face was rounder, her cheeks rosier, than the Fae she lived among. Her hair was a golden blonde woven with strands of brown and platinum. Her complexion, though still fair from the sunless winter, was not the snowy white of the other Winter Fae. Only her poise and her clothing, the sleek gold pants that molded to her legs beneath a beautiful rose gold top that billowed out around her like butterfly wings, gave away her Faerie upbringing.

  She stepped inside the room and bent into a deep curtsy. “Your Highness,” she said.

  Fighting off the impulse to roll her eyes, Ivy shook her head. “Please, that isn’t necessary. And I would rather you just call me Ivy.” She gestured to the other chair in front of the window. “Please have a seat.”

  Violet settled herself gently on the edge of the chair, crossing her ankles and sitting with ruler-straight posture, as Ivy plopped in her own seat with zero grace. Violet kept her expression blank, but Ivy could feel the judgment rolling from her. Ivy straightened her own posture, remembering she wasn’t simply talking to someone. She had granted an audience.

  “Sorry,” she said, “I haven’t exactly adapted yet.”

  With a tight smile, Violet acknowledged her clumsy apology with a curt nod. Apparently, Ivy was going to have to invite her to speak before she’d find out what this “audience” was about.

  “Please, feel free to begin,” Ivy said.

  Clasping her hands in her lap, Violet lifted her chin, staring down at Ivy from light blue eyes.

  “I came to apologize to you,” she said. Despite her humanity, Violet spoke with the nearly Scottish lilt of the other Winter Court Fae that Ivy had tried—and failed—to imitate. “I was rude to you when you first arrived, and I feel badly about that. I also wanted to thank you for saving my life at the binding ceremony.”

  “There’s nothing to apologize for,” Ivy said. “I understand why you would be upset with me or with the situation. We are both victims of circumstances we couldn’t control.”

  “Yes,” Violet said. “Forgive me if I overstep, but I wondered if you might tell me about my family. My human family.”

  Ivy shifted in her seat, uncomfortable despite the plush cushion. She took a deep breath. There wasn’t much to tell.

  “The Queen said she gave you all the information,” Ivy said. “I’m not sure how much I can really add. What do you want
to know?”

  “What they’re like. Where they live. What it looks like there. I’ve only heard stories about the mortal realm. How can I know if I want to journey beyond these walls if I don’t know what lies on the other side?”

  Hesitating, Ivy leaned forward. “I never knew my—your—mother. She was convinced I wasn’t hers, and she tried to drown me in a bathtub. As it turns out, she was right all along. I really didn’t belong to her. I really was a changeling. My father—er, your father—Dylan Hawthorne, put her in a facility hundreds of miles away and divorced her. He never really got over it, I guess, or maybe he sensed the same thing his wife sensed. Anyway, I lived with Nan—her name is Lucinda Hawthorne—until I was eight. Then, I got shipped off to boarding school. Nan is great, but you probably know more about your family than I do.”

  Violet’s eyes drifted around the room, as if she were searching for answers in the nooks and crannies of her former room. When Ivy grew silent, though, Violet resumed the conversation, meeting her eyes once more.

  “Did Nan live close by? It’s difficult to imagine any father sending a child away without anyone to care for her.”

  “Well, she lived in Burnsville, North Carolina, which is like half an hour from Kingston Academy. She drove up on weekends sometimes, and I usually went to her house on birthdays and stuff like that. But Kingston was really my home.”

  Violet bowed her head. “It must have been awful for you. While I was growing up in a castle, you were all alone. You had nobody. I despise the way I feel. I know that compared to you, I had every advantage, but now that I know the truth, I can’t help but feel so…”

  “Angry?”

  “Exactly.” Violet clenched her fists in her lap, the only outward display of her anger.

  “Me, too,” Ivy said. “The truth is supposed to set you free, but I feel more trapped than ever. I can’t imagine how betrayed you must feel. You were raised to be a queen, and now you find out that none of it was real.”

  “It has been…difficult,” Violet said. “But I realize now that my anger and frustration toward you has been unfair. Whatever I decide to do, I hope we can be friends.”

  She took Ivy’s hand, then, clasping it in her own.

  “Of course,” Ivy said. “I’d like that.”

  “With that said, I wondered if you could help me solve a little mystery.”

  Ivy shrugged. “I’m not sure how much help I’ll be, but I can try.”

  “I seem to have lost something of great value and importance,” Violet said. “It must have been misplaced during…the move.”

  Ivy looked away, suddenly uncomfortable. This beautiful room with a view of the ice gardens and the snowy landscape beyond had been Violet’s first.

  “What is it?” Ivy asked.

  “It’s a rather beautiful key. It would have been gleaming white gold with a jeweled bow. It’s an old key, a skeleton key. My mother—Queen Lyric gave it to me a few years ago for my birthday, and I wore it on a snake chain.”

  Ivy knew exactly which key Violet was talking about. She had found it in her jewelry armoire about a week after the Binding Ceremony. She had wondered where it had come from. Ivy nodded, finding herself too uncomfortable for words, and stood. She walked across the room to the ivory armoire and opened the top. Everything in her room had belonged to Violet before it belonged to Ivy. It wasn’t easy on either of them, but Ivy knew Violet must have swallowed a great deal of pride to ask for a favor. Ivy rifled through the box, sifting through gold rings with sunburst gemstones of every variety until she found the key, which dangled, catching the light, from a thick snake chain of the same white gold.

  “It’s gorgeous,” Ivy said.

  She turned back toward Violet and held out the key.

  “Thank you, Ivy,” Violet said. She plucked the key from Ivy’s hand and then slipped the chain over her head. “You have no idea how much this means to me.”

  “Any time,” Ivy answered.

  She was about to ask Violet if they could sit together at dinner, but before she could say more, a peck at the door interrupted her.

  Again, Bear poked his head inside the room. Ivy’s heart raced forward, as it always did whenever she saw him. His eyes found hers for a flicker of a moment before shifting to some unreachable spot beyond her.

  “His Grace, Prince Ardan, of the Unseelie Court,” Bear said. His voice was flat, just as it had been for weeks. There was no hint of the playful mischief she had grown to love in the mortal realm.

  Violet gave a tight smile and then leaned close as if to share a secret. “I won’t keep you from your guest. This might be the only positive result of your situation. Being a Princess has its share of burdens, but Prince Ardan is definitely not one of them.”

  With an uncharacteristic wink, Violet left the room through the side door, and Ardan stepped inside. Not waiting for Bear to close the door, he swiftly crossed the room and bowed to Ivy, gently taking her hand and pressing his lips to her skin. Heat pooled in her belly, making her heart race. She fought against it, trying to suppress what she’d been feeling for weeks. Ardan’s touch was like match to a flame, but she didn’t want to feel this way. Not about him. And every time she felt that electric thrill from the presence of her betrothed, she was betraying the one she truly loved. Bear.

  “I have the most exquisite surprise for you,” Ardan whispered.

  Over his head, Ivy looked at Bear. This time, though, he wasn’t looking at her or the spot on the wall. Instead, his gaze was fixed on the Unseelie prince with a lethal precision that sent a chill rippling up her spine.

  Perhaps Bear wasn’t as indifferent as he acted. The thought sent her heart hammering forward. Something she definitely wasn’t allowed to feel.

  Chapter Two

  Bear had never wanted to kill something more than he wanted to kill Prince Ardan in that moment. The arrogant prick had swept right past him and crossed the room as if he were so far beneath him, he couldn’t be bothered to exhibit even the tiniest bit of respect.

  And when he pressed his lips to Ivy’s hand, something dangerous and very much alive surged through Bear’s veins.

  Hate.

  Complete. Unwavering. Absolute.

  “I have the most exquisite surprise for you,” Ardan whispered.

  Then, the prince plucked a small velvet box from the pocket of his sleek jacket and placed it in Ivy’s hand. Bear met her gaze from over his head.

  I’m sorry, her eyes seemed to say.

  She still wore the same lost, bewildered expression that had masked her features since the Binding Ceremony. As much as Bear wanted to provide her with comfort, assurance, and sympathy, he wasn’t allowed. So he tore his eyes away, pretending not to see. Hoping that one day, the fury he fought to suppress would dull to numbness and then, maybe someday, indifference.

  Sensing her distraction, Ardan turned his head, seeing that Bear still lingered in the doorway.

  The Unseelie prince raised his brows. “Do you mind?”

  Bear locked his jaw against a thousand treasonous replies. Instead, he nodded to the prince, muttered an apology, and resumed his post by the door. However, as Queen Lyric had ordered, Bear left the door open wide, both thankful and resentful that he could hear their conversation.

  “It’s beautiful,” Ivy said. And he could tell she meant it. “But it’s too much.” She meant that too. Bear smirked.

  “Nothing is too much or too beautiful for my betrothed.”

  What a load of utter crap. Kill me now.

  Did he really think someone as intelligent as Ivy would fall for his lines? But someone like Prince Ardan, with his wealth and reputation with females, had probably never had to exert any amount of imagination or creativity when it came to courting. He didn’t deserve her. Ivy was worthy of so much more.

  But who would be good enough for her? Bear?

  He chuckled darkly under his breath. By the standards of the Winter Court, he was far less worthy than any of the court heirs, much l
ess the younger prince of an entire realm. Someone like Bear was good enough to risk his life for hers, but he would never be good enough to live as her partner. Instead, he stood by her door and followed behind her like the servant he was.

  “Will you walk with me?” Ardan asked.

  Though she didn’t reply, Ivy walked out the door without sparing Bear a single look. Prince Ardan, however, winked at him as they passed, as if Bear were privy to some shared joke. Having no other choice, he followed them through the hall, down the stairs, and out the glass doors that led to the queen’s ice gardens.

  Princess Ivy looked like the privileged alter-ego of the Ivy he knew at Kingston Academy—the blue jeans and braids Ivy. This one was undeniably beautiful in satin pants the color of ice and a silver cashmere sweater. The heart-shaped ruby—the gift from her gentlemanly suitor—hung in the hollow at her throat like a bleeding wound against her pale skin. The way her hair twisted and swirled on top of her head exposed a long neck that begged for his kisses. But this Ivy was miles from him, miles from everyone. She was miles away from Ardan, too, only he was too narcissistic to realize it.

  As Bear followed behind them, Prince Ardan whispered in her ear and asked questions in a tone that reflected genuine interest. Ivy responded politely, laughed at his jokes, and feigned interest, but she stared ahead, her eyes rarely wavering from some distant spot in the sky. As they rounded the grand ice sculptures, though, Ardan took her hand.

  Ivy tried to pull away, but Ardan held on. Bear’s hand found the hilt of his sheathed dagger as Ivy glared at the prince. He could hear his heart pounding in his ears. If he harmed the prince without cause, he would pay with his life.