“Let her go!” Cedric bellowed as he was pulled toward the doors and into the castle. I pinched my eyelids shut. My breaths sped, my heart raced, and I felt as if I were going to die.
“I can’t breathe.” My knees buckled. My sanity was splitting at its sides. “Please,” I pleaded again. “BLAISE!” I screamed as I was pulled toward the entrance to the dungeons.
Rocking back and forth with my back pressed against the cold stone wall, I shuddered. I looked at the starless sky through the iron-barred small window to my left. Water dripped from somewhere in the distance, the sound accompanied by the occasional cry from another prisoner in a neighboring cell.
“I’m okay,” I told myself for the hundredth time, squeezing my fingernails into my palms until I left crescent-shaped marks. I found solace in the pain. “I’m safe.” I tried to convince my racing thoughts. “It’s not the same as Berovia.” My voice was shaky. “Blaise will come. You’ll see.” I probably sounded crazy, but I didn’t care. I needed to hear the words aloud.
Footsteps approached. Heavy boots crunched small stones in the echoey passageway. “You there.” A guard with thick eyebrows that blended into one long one stood at the bars of my cell. A key was forced into the lock, and the door swung open. “Come with me,” he grumbled, pushing his the silver helmet back. Holes had been made for the very tips of his ears to poke through. “Now.”
I jolted back, scrambling against the wall. The guard grunted and grabbed my wrist, then tugged me forward. My fingers trembled from the bitter draughts sweeping through the small, ancient passages.
My breath fogged the air when we walked outside. Tears ran down my cheeks as I tasted freedom. The uneasiness in my chest dissipated. The jittering was less noticeable. I wanted to think about anything else, a distraction from the pain I felt every time I closed my eyes or was alone with my mind.
Then I saw him. His presence sent shockwaves through me. His hands were in his pockets. He wore a black shirt with silver roses patterned on it. His dark eyebrows were pinched downward, his expression unmoving.
“Blaise.” His name felt familiar on my tongue.
I didn’t expect to feel so nervous. I was still so angry at him, and it had been months since we’d seen each other, then there was the letter.
My heart palpitated.
He halted upon hearing my voice, as if he hadn’t expected me to be real. “Winter.” He sounded uncertain. “It’s really you. When they told me you’d come, I didn’t believe it.” His lips parted; tears glistened his smoky-gray eyes. “I’m sorry they took you into those dungeons.” His jaw tensed. “I would have never allowed it.”
I swallowed thickly. I waited for the questions. Why was I here? What did I want? But neither came. I flinched when he closed the distance between us. Pulling me into his arms, he gripped his fingers into my sides and held me tighter. His breath tingled on my neck. He brought his lips to my ear. “You’re alive. I was so scared.”
The revelation shocked me still. “You were scared?”
He blew out slowly. “Of course I was.”
Butterflies swirled unwantedly. “Wait… you thought I was dead?”
He didn’t let go. “I wondered. I heard you’d escaped King Xenos, and I didn’t know what they’d done to you. The whole army was looking for you in Berovia. My spies reported.” He cupped my cheek. “You’re shaking. Let’s get inside.” His navy-blue wings opened from his back.
I nuzzled my head into his shoulder as he lifted us from the ground. I didn’t look up again until we landed in the throne room.
His gaze traced my lips. “Is there anything you need?”
“Yes, actually, I need to find…” I looked around, fumbling my fingers. I didn’t know how to bring up Cedric, but I knew I needed to find him. I was sure he was safe here among the other fae, but I wondered where they’d have taken him. “No, I…”
“Some food perhaps?” Blaise offered.
I thought back to the stale bread on the ship. “I’ve not had anything good to eat in days.”
He snapped his fingers at a man hovering nearby. “Bring us some apples, maybe some frosted cake.”
The guard bowed at this waist and scuttered away, leaving us in a corner near the throne, alone. Blaise let out a tense breath. “I thought you were going to get married.”
Suddenly, everything came rushing back. “Yes,” I said slowly. “Married.” I balled my fists. “I can’t believe I just let you off!” I shouted. “I’m not doing this.”
“Do what?” He pulled back, holding me at arm’s length.
“A sweet reunion.” Rage bubbled beneath the surface.
Seeing him be so sweet, so caring, made things worse. How could he hurt me as much as he did? “I am SO mad at you!”
His eyebrows shot up. “You weren’t a moment ago.”
I shook my head. “It was just the shock of seeing you again,” I said, defending myself, and crossed my arms.
His black hair fell around the silver crown on his head, reminding me he was now king. “You got all you wanted in the end, hmm? I can’t believe you!”
“I don’t know what the big deal is.” Confusion ticked his jaw.
Red crossed my gaze. How could he think that! He was perfectly okay with marrying me off to Kiros.
Punching my fists into his chest never felt so good. Tears ran down my cheeks as I slammed another hit, this time on his shoulder. “I hate you!”
His gaze searched mine for a split second before he looked away. “Are you quite done?”
“Done?” I scoffed. “DONE! I’ve not even started. You wanted me to marry the prince of Berovia. He wanted to be king, not a consort, a king to Magaelor,” I said, emphasizing my words. “It would have cost me everything, you selfish bastard.”
His eyes widened, a smirk playing on his lips. “I’ve missed this.”
“Don’t you dare smile,” I warned, my fists balled, ready to land another punch. “This isn’t a game. You are a self-absorbed, uncaring, horrible—”
He rolled his eyes. “I’m the worst. I get it.”
“I despise you.” Venom laced my words. “You are heartless.”
“Look.” He uncrossed his arms. “I didn’t think Kiros was going to be king. Just a consort. I didn’t know their plans. At the time, it seemed like it was in both of our best interests. A great idea that would have benefited me too. Am I wrong to protect what is mine?”
Tears pooled in my eyes. My words teetered on the tip of my tongue. His gaze faltered as the unspoken statement hung between us. I thought I was his. I thought he’d want to protect me.
“My kingdom and my heart are not worth betting on an idea,” I stated, feeling vulnerable. Looking away from his invasive stare, I dropped my arms to my side. “You threatened my throne, twice, and you didn’t try to save me.”
His eyes moved downward. “Not true. Also, I didn’t mean it was worth betting on.”
“I know what you meant,” I replied.
“I don’t know what to say, love.”
I fumed. “Don’t call me that.”
“It’s good seeing you, regardless of the anger.” His gaze trickled over my body, moving up until his smoky-gray eyes met mine. “I was worried sick. I tried finding a way to get you out of the pits, but then Kiros saved you.”
My mouth twisted in disgust. “My savior.” Guilt swirled my stomach into knots. I had to end this conversation and find the one person who did in fact save me, who went out of his way to care for me and showed me loyalty no matter what. Cedric was who mattered, but no matter what I did, I couldn’t pull myself away from Blaise. I had to ask him if we could stay here, yet I couldn’t feign being okay with him after what he did.
“Don’t be like this. You didn’t marry him, so what’s the problem?”
“You’re lucky I didn’t. Else I’d have used all of his armies and mine to attack you first.”
He picked up a lit cigar from an ashtray resting on the arm of his throne. Clover-scented
smoke circled in the air when he exhaled. “I’m sure you would have.”
“Don’t underestimate me.”
He placed the cigar back on its silver plate. “That, I’d never do.”
I noticed a difference in him, one I couldn’t quite put my finger on. His voice wavered a couple of times and he looked on edge, although he did well to hide it. There were cracks in his composure, as if he were ready to fall apart. The words from his letter floated into my mind. “You wrote Edgar is coming for you, with the sword,” I said. “Have any more attempts been made?”
He rubbed the back of his neck, his eyes glazing over. “Since we’ve spoken, several more vials of mer-venom have reached me. They’ve grown imaginative.” He laughed nervously. “Using my cigar once to get it into my body once I’d delayed all meals and drinks, then they poisoned my clothing. It’s been…” He searched for the words, tracing his fingers along his wrist. “Problematic.”
“You think?”
“They’re trying to weaken me. Get close to me.”
“They?”
He closed his eyes briefly. “Him, Berovia, I have enemies at every door. Your cousin hates that we haven’t gotten the feral fae under control. Despite him being allowed to live in our kingdom for most of his life, he stayed with the lunas who had broken away from Magaelor, you see, to the east of here in small villages built around the woods. My father let them be.” He shrugged. “Said they weren’t worth our time. Anyway, he and his friends, people who’d raised him like family, sometimes they were attacked by the feral fae. A few were even killed, despite their protection spells. Therefore, he doesn’t have a high opinion of us, the royal family that is. I’m sure he made some faerie friends over the years who weren’t feral.”
“I had wondered why he was so against you when he lived here. It makes sense. I am curious as to how they managed to protect themselves.”
“Edgar practices elemental magic.”
My jaw tightened. “Sacrilege.”
“Nevertheless, faeries don’t enjoy being burned with fire magic, even if it won’t kill them. It kept most of them at bay, but not all. I wouldn’t worry though. I’ve been taking care of our rogue faeries.” His forehead crinkled. I’d never seen him so stressed. I touched his wrist, instinctively, then recoiled.
“Edgar has people in the castle.” I presumed. “They have to be faeries, right?”
“Traitors,” he replied. “I assume it’s the few who he’d gotten to know while living here. They’d have to hate our family too.” He inhaled sharply.
I wished he’d stand farther away. I could smell clove on his clothing and berries on his breath. He licked his lips, looking down at me with tenderness in his expression. He hesitated on the edge of words, uncertainty playing on his lips.
“Winter, I… I never meant for you to get hurt. You must believe me. I care for you. Deeply. As much as I can.” Sincerity was thick in his gaze. I recalled my conversation with the mer king. Could I really blame his distance, his lack of compassion, or care when he was cursed?
My heart trembled. I wished it wouldn’t. “I—”
“Don’t tell me what I feel,” he begged. Tiredness crowned his features. “I’ve missed you.”
“Winter!” Cedric’s voice resounded behind me.
I jumped a foot back, then whipped my head around.
“You’re safe.” He sighed relief, shrugging away one of the guards. “I tried telling them who you were and to let you go.” He strode to my side, then wrapped his arm around my waist and planted a kiss on my lips.
Blaise stared him down, looking at Cedric’s fingers gripping me. Menace and fury colored his gray irises into a dark green, and his lips fell into a hard line.
“Majesty.” The guard behind us bowed. “This man is claiming to be a light fae visitor with…”
Blaise waved him down. “He’s a guest of Winter, although I didn’t know she would be bringing a sparkly pet with her.”
“Blaise!” I scolded, but Cedric squeezed my arm, calming me.
“Don’t worry, Winter, he’s just threatened,” Cedric smirked, flaming Blaise’s eyes red.
“You can stay here for now.” Blaise looked back at me. His tone was guided with annoyance. “We will discuss getting you back on your throne, in private, with my council whom I trust.” His eyes trailed the room. “Until then, I have things to attend.”
“Thank you for letting us stay.” I let out a long exhale, reining in my anger at his comment.
“My pleasure,” Blaise replied with the enthusiasm of a slug. “I’ll have someone show you to your rooms.” He turned and walked away before I could say anything else.
TWENTY-THREE
Gray swirled in the blue sky outside the three arched windows that lined the back wall of the council chambers. Winds battered against the glass, begging to be let in. I leaned forward, resting my hands on the polished table. The lord, Abor, stared at Cedric. His midnight-blue eyes narrowed.
“Once you give them a voice, they will feel entitled. The people will turn against not just her monarchy.” He nodded in my direction. “But against us too. Don’t be naïve. We can’t allow them to think for themselves. They look to us for what is right and wrong. We are the order needed. If you take that away, you may as well hand over her crown now.”
Cedric slammed his hands on the table. “They should be allowed to have a say over who is going to be queen,” he argued. “They can think for themselves.”
I waved my hand in the air. “We are anointed by something much bigger than ourselves. They shouldn’t get a vote. It makes no sense. Edgar was not next in line,” I explained. “Lord Abor is right. We can’t do that.”
“A vote could help you.” Cedric regarded me. “If they want you on the throne, which they will, then there will be no overruling it. I think it’s a better alternative than reaching out to your cousin. Like I said before, there is no way he will hand back the throne, especially while he is in Berovia’s pocket. He is afraid. He doesn’t know Magaelor. He’s spent such little time there. He holds different beliefs. Now that he knows you are alive, it threatens him. Fear makes people do crazy things. I believe if we try to reason, show him fairness, a vote, it aligns with what he believes in. You may not think he will agree, but I do. He may even think he has a chance of staying. A peaceful way.”
I curled my fingers back and pressed my lips together. “I appreciate what you’re trying to do,” I said before Abor could jump in, “but it’s not possible, Cedric. Once we go down that path, there is no coming back. It undermines the need for a monarchy. We are anointed by our creator, and everything is built on that.”
Abor nodded. “She is correct. She is next in line for the throne after her father, and the rules of succession must be obeyed, for law, for order. We risk civil war without it.”
Sighing, Cedric sat back down and leaned back. “Then what?”
I licked my lips. “Well, we have no armies of number at our disposal.”
Abor agreed. “Our army cannot take on Magaelor and Berovia. Our guards must remain here, defending the castle against the feral fae and luna assassins sent to hurt our king.”
I had forgotten for a moment about the civil unrest in their own kingdom. “Yes. However, we do have one advantage.”
The four other men leaned forward. They had been handpicked by the king to lead the negotiations, after Blaise decided me taking back Magaelor was in the best interest of his rule. All were lords of various pockets of land across Niferum.
One chimed in. He had a long silver beard, with eyes to match. “What would that be, young lady?”
I hated being called that. I was going to be queen, for goodness’ sake. I turned my attention from him back to Abor, who ran his hand through his wavy, long blond hair, seeing as he was the only one who seemed to regard me with any sort of respect. “We have the mountains,” I explained. “They’re almost impassible with the weather, narrow walkways, wolves, glamours in place, and the feral fae vill
ages just beyond. We’re in dangerous territory to my people. One or two could come across, but they wouldn’t dare attempt to bring an army through. Any negotiations we do with Edgar must be done at the border. He is vulnerable here.”
One of the lords cleared his throat. “They could come by ship.”
Abor shook his head at the gray-bearded man. “They wouldn’t dare cross our waters, Gregoir. The mer are rampant here, and the sea treacherous. Not to mention our icebergs. Why do you think they only send a few assassins at a time?”
“They can’t fly,” I said. “Even with our magic, there is only so much we can do. We can’t influence or change the weather. There are limitations. With me, we can exploit Edgar’s army’s weaknesses.”
“Where do you suggest we meet with King Edgar?”
I groaned at hearing “king” in front of his treacherous name. “I say offer to bring him into the castle.”
Abor shook his head. “We are on high alert with the attacks, and I highly doubt your cousin would agree to come.”
I leaned back. “Then arrange a meeting at the border.”
Abor’s shoulders slumped. “I will do my best. They have been stubborn in their communications with us.”
Cedric stood, warning in his gaze. “I suggest you do it quickly. Pull whatever strings you have. We’re running out of time. It’s just like you were saying. You all made such a point of it! She is the rightful queen according to the beliefs of all monarchies. If you undermine her, then you’re undermining the very foundation monarchies are built on. Would you like your own destabilized?” He half-smirked, using their own words against them.
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