by K. V. Adair
Eoin raised his chin, but looked at me instead of Aidan. “She does.”
“She can’t access it or control it.”
“Yet.”
Aidan sighed, closing his eyes. “What is your game, Eoin? You wanted her here against Liam’s better judgement. He trusted you, and now he’s dead.”
A dark look passed over Eoin’s features. “If you have something to say, spit it out.”
There it was again. His speech went from formal to not faster than I could get a word out. “Would the two of you stop? I’m not a pawn for you to push across the board.”
Eoin smiled. It was both reassuring but also tinged with sadness. “No, you’re a queen.”
Aidan struggled against the hold, but the only thing that moved was his head. Eoin was powerful.
It scared the shit out of me.
“No. Not going to happen. If you had any loyalty to our king, you will let us go,” Aidan said.
“My loyalty is to our people. We both know what will happen if she leaves. I can’t allow that. It’s not what Liam would have wanted either.”
“You’re wrong. Her safety was his primary concern. He’d never put her at risk, not even for every Sidhe in the Sidh.”
“And yet, here she is. At risk. At Liam’s orders.”
Orders? What the hell? I hadn’t been ordered here. I’d come of my own free will.
Hadn’t I?
“What part of I’m not a tool for either of you to use did you fail to understand? And stop talking about me like I have no say in my own fate.”
Eoin shook his head and indicated to the guards to lift us to our feet. The invisible chains were gone, but the bindings on our wrists remained.
As soon as I found my footing, I pushed at the guard holding me, getting out of his grasp.
I wasn’t trying to escape. There was no where for me to go anyway. I just wanted to prove a point.
I didn’t get a step away until I became rooted on the spot.
I shot a glare at Eoin. “Cheater.”
He smiled again. He was always smiling. It should have been irritating or patronizing. At the very least, it should have made me dislike him altogether.
Instead, it calmed me. Reassured me. I didn’t know if he had magic in his smile or if I was just a weak-willed strumpet desperate for a little attention.
I didn’t like either option.
“Using my abilities isn’t cheating, Princess. It’s smart.”
He nodded to a guard next to me. The guard gently took my arm to lead me. I shrugged out of it.
“I’m capable of walking on my own.”
She bowed her head. “I am sorry, Princess. You don’t deserve to be treated like this.”
“Apologies mean nothing when not backed by action. What is your name?”
“Deidre.”
“How long have you been a guard?”
She kept her eyes straight ahead. I could tell my questions made her uncomfortable, but she still answered. Which told me more than she realized.
“We don’t consider ourselves guards, but rather ben síde.”
“You guard things, right? So, what’s the difference?”
She scrunched her forehead like she was unsure how to answer. “I don’t know, actually. It just is.”
I shook my head slightly and sighed. “Maybe it’s time to start questioning why things are rather than blindly following what you are told.”
“Stop trying to corrupt the ben síde,” Eoin said from behind me. I recognized the tone in his voice. My brother had often held the same tone when he was exasperated.
“Worried I’ll succeed?”
“Yes.”
We arrived at an elaborately decorated double door. Two women dressed in brown and red stood like sentinels on either side. They didn’t look at us when we approached. “Are they ben síde, too?”
Deidre tried to hide her smile. “No, they’re guards.”
Each of the guards grabbed one of the handles and pulled. They still kept their eyes ahead and not on us or the door.
Their movements were synchronized. It was a bit creepy.
I lowered my voice as we walked through the doorway. “Is it magic that let’s them do that in perfect time?”
This time Deidre didn’t hide her smile. “No. Just practice.”
Many of the nobles who had been at the party stood on both sides of a carpeted aisle still dressed in their finery, not a single tear in any of their eyes.
I kept my gaze in front of me, unable to look at the mixture of disgust and suspicion on their faces. I was not well liked here.
We walked toward the throne in silence. Even our footsteps made no sound. No one seemed to be breathing. No one coughed. No one whispered to their neighbor. Just complete, utter silence.
I cleared my throat just to break the tension.
Seated on the throne—my brother’s throne—was Niamh. Innis stood at her side, a scowl on his face. Was the male ever happy?
Niamh’s face was steeled against emotion, and she sat straight backed. Her posture was envious. She looked very much like she belonged there. I would have looked like a fool.
We stopped in front of the raised dais and the ben síde accompanying us went to their knee with their heads bowed.
I turned to look behind me. Eoin remained standing, as did Aidan. I wasn’t sure what to do. I’d never been taught the protocol of a situation like this.
I figured my fate was probably in the hands of the new queen and the smart move would be showing deference and meekness. I remembered all too well the icicles flung at my face from Innis.
But I also remembered the ice shield Niamh had formed to protect me from them. Maybe I had a chance if I just showed a little respect.
I tried to bend my knee, but my body refused to move. Eoin. Warm breath on my ear rose my blood pressure even higher.
“A queen does not bow,” Eoin whispered.
I wanted to tell him I wasn’t a queen, I’d never be a queen, but whatever kept my body in check also affected my mouth.
How bloody convenient.
Niamh stood, eyes behind me, presumably on Eoin. “What is this? Are we such barbarians in the wake of our king’s death that we debase ourselves by harming his sister?”
Eoin walked around me, his expression mild, but I could see the lock of his jaw. He was pissed.
Guess he didn’t like being reprimanded.
“She hasn’t been harmed, Niamh. Simply contained.”
“And what right do you have to contain royal blood?”
“She was attempting to leave the Sidh. I couldn’t allow that.”
“You should have let her go,” Innis muttered loud enough everyone could hear it.
Dick face.
“Free her,” Niamh said.
Eoin didn’t hesitate. He just flicked his wrist again and the magical cuffs disappeared. I rubbed my aching wrists.
“Not so tight next time,” I muttered.
He smirked. “Next time?”
“Thanks,” I said to Niamh. “Appreciate it.”
Her face didn’t betray her emotions, but she nodded.
Eoin cleared his throat. “With that situated, it’s time to discuss—”
“How did my brother die?” I asked.
“We don’t know yet,” Innis said. “We are still investigating.”
“Are you? All I see is a bunch of people standing around posturing. No one seems to care who killed their king.”
Innis grimaced. “I assure you that isn’t the case. As terrible as Liam’s death is—”
“The high king,” Eoin interrupted. “As terrible as our king’s death is. Do not forget who you are talking about.”
Innis blinked three times. “As terrible as our king’s death is there is no time for mourning.”
“Why not?” I asked. “The longer all of you do whatever power play you’re doing, my brother’s body grows cold and the evidence fades. There is a killer among you and not one of yo
u gives a damn.”
“That’s enough, Morrigan,” Niamh said. “I understand your grief, and my heart breaks for it. This is a great loss to us all, but none more so than you.”
“Then do something about it.”
“We will,” said Innis. “As soon as this is taken care of.”
“This? What do you mean?”
“You, I mean. As soon as you are taken care of.”
I narrowed my eyes. “What the hell do you mean by that?”
“We…I will not let your brother’s death go unavenged, I assure you, but you don’t need to be here for it. Go home, Morrigan. Your life is there.”
“You know nothing about my life.”
He took a step forward, his features soft. “I know enough.”
“What the hell do you mean by that?” I repeated.
“Exactly what—”
Niamh pressed her hand against Innis’ chest. “Enough, brother. Morrigan can not be allowed to leave the Sidh.”
Innis turned to look at his sister. “Are you mad?”
“She is the last of Titania’s bloodline. Without her magic, there is nothing to hold back the Unseelie.”
Innis scoffed. “What magic? She’s less than a novice. We can protect our people in some other way. We defeated them before; we will again.”
Eoin laughed mockingly. “She can be trained to use her power. And read your history books, Innis. We defeated the Unseelie because of the bloodline. Your sister is right.”
“You mean, the queen is right. Proper respect goes both ways.”
“Niamh never married the king. She has no claim to the throne. Everyone here knows it. No amount of bullying the princess changes that.”
Niamh narrowed her eyes. For the first time since I met her, she looked murderous. “You’re not suggesting what I think you are.”
“Princess Morrigan is High King Liam’s only heir. The throne belongs to her.”
The room erupted with voices. Angry, mean voices. You’d have thought someone had announced the Super Bowl had been canceled or something.
“She isn’t fit to rule. She knows nothing,” Innis spat out.
“Doesn’t matter. Rules are rules. And the rules for succession are clear.”
“Not if she’s proved to be a murderer,” Niamh said, barely above a whisper.
My stomach dropped. I really needed to be more careful about my judgement of these peoples’ character. Trusting the wrong—maybe any—Fae would end with me dead, or worse, in chains.
Aidan stepped up. “Ridiculous. She didn’t murder Liam.”
I noticed Eoin didn’t correct Aidan’s informal use of my brother’s name.
“She’s a stranger here. And the king is murdered right before her claim to the throne disappears.” Niamh said.
Eoin shook his head. “Her claim would have still been valid. The royal bloodline needs to remain intact.”
Innis glared down at me. I wasn’t sure if his dislike from me stemmed from the threat I posed to his sister and his own power or if he just didn’t like me. “There are ways around that.”
I really, really didn’t like the sound of that.
“I didn’t kill my brother. I love him. More than anything. I love him enough to risk my life to come here with no ability to cast magic, with nothing protecting me other than the fear of his wrath.”
Innis face softened unexpectedly. The male was as inconsistent with his emotions as Eoin was with words. “Loved, princess. You loved your brother.”
I sputtered out some curses. “I don’t want any throne. I don’t even want to be here.”
“Then go home, Princess. I do not say this to be cruel, though I know you believe I am. You no longer have the protection of your brother. Without magic—”
Aidan stepped forward. “She is not without protection, asshat.”
Innis shook his head sadly. “Then you will die with her.”
“Is that a threat?” I asked, shocked that he could be so brazen.
“Of course not. I’m the last person you should be worried about considering I’m the only one giving you a way out of here.”
“Out of the kindness of your heart, of course.”
Eoin sighed. “None of this matters. The throne is not yours, Innis. It does not belong to Hailstone. It never will.”
“We would put a murderer on the throne?”
“We are doomed!”
“We’d be better off being ruled by the Unseelie King than this child.”
A dozen voices, maybe more, called out their opinions on the situation. Not a single one was in my favor.
Good thing I gave two shits about ruling. It wasn’t such a good thing, though, when it came to coming out of this unscathed.
“She couldn’t have killed the king. I was with her the entire time,” Aidan said.
Niamh stood. “I did not see you at the party, Aidan, or with the princess at all. Besides, we can not take your word for this. You are bloodsworn to protect her no matter what. Lying would be the least of your crimes.”
Crimes? Bloodsworn? What was going on here?
I didn’t like Aidan being called a liar. I also had no interest in having my brother’s murder pinned on me.
“If you don’t believe Aidan, perhaps you should ask whoever you were with right before my brother died.”
Niamh’s mouth tightened, and I was a little worried I was about to get some icicles to the face.
“When was this?” Innis asked. He didn’t look very surprised at my words, but he also didn’t look happy.
I didn’t know the time. I didn’t even know how long I’d been stuck in that hallway of hell. “30 minutes or so before I saw…”
I couldn’t say it. That would make it all too real.
“The king had been killed much earlier than that. Around the time you left the party actually,” Niamh said, looking way more smug that I liked.
“She was with me,” a voice I recognized but couldn’t place said behind me.
I turned around. Feoras stood in the middle of the aisle, eyes on Niamh and Innis.
“She was? When? For how long?” Niamh asked.
He scratched his chin like he was thinking very hard about how to answer the questions. “Not long after she left the party. I followed, introduced myself, and we continued to get to know each other.”
I didn’t like the tone in his voice at that statement, but I kept my mouth shut.
Innis frowned. “Getting to know each other? And how long did that take?”
I also did not like the implication in his statement.
Feoras smirked and the urge to stomp on his toes nearly overcame my senses. “I am well-known for my stamina.”
Well, now it was no longer an implication. My cheeks flushed. Anger and embarrassment warred inside me.
Aidan didn’t contradict his words, though he knew it wasn’t true. I looked over at him. He was glaring at Feoras. He knew it wasn’t true.
Didn’t he?
Feoras turned his attention to me. “It is my pleasure to be the first to bow to my new queen.”
He went to one knee with his head bowed. I did not like this. Not one bit.
One by one, each of the nobles in attendance did the same thing. I looked around me. Aidan and Eoin had also taken a knee.
The only two who remained on their feet were Niamh and Innis.
“I don’t want this,” I whispered.
Innis went to one knee. Niamh followed. What the hell was I supposed to do now?
Eoin looked up at me, eyes bright, looking like he’d won some great victory. Whatever he thought he’d accomplished today wasn’t going to end the way he hoped.
I’d make sure of that.
“What does my queen command?” he asked.
Chapter Twelve
After the weird display of deference, Eoin had half-dragged Aidan and I from the room and into another much smaller one. He called it the war room.
It looked nothing like a war room at al
l.
As soon as he shut the door behind us, I unleashed. “What are you up to, Eoin?”
“Fulfilling your brother’s wishes.”
“Bullshit. I don’t believe you.”
He shrugged. “Believe me or don’t. This is your only chance here.”
“Innis offered me an out. I should take it.”
Aidan placed a hand on my shoulder. “Innis can’t be trusted. He has done things to ensure his sister would sit by your brother’s side so he could benefit from the power that comes with it.”
“Things? What things? Could he have done something to Liam?”
Aidan shook his head. “It’s unlikely. While Innis is an ambitious ass, he’s not stupid. Far from it.”
Eoin nodded. “He will be a formidable antagonist against you.”
“Great. Sounds like fun.”
“What you need are allies, not more enemies. That will require—”
I cut Eoin off. “I’m not interested. All I want is to find the person who killed my brother and…” I paused.
“And what, Princess?”
“Pour molten gold over their head and watch it harden as they screamed.”
I expected fear or disgust from Eoin. Instead he beamed. “You are one of us.”
“That’s such a messed up thing to say.”
“But true. Compassion is weakness. Trust is weakness. Ruthlessness is the key to your survival. And the key to successfully keeping the throne.”
“I said I don’t want it.”
Eoin sighed and took a step closer to me. It wasn’t menacing or threatening, but Aidan stepped between us anyway.
“I can fight my own battles, Aidan,” I whispered. He didn’t move, so I moved instead. I wasn’t about to talk through him. “Niamh will make a far better queen than me. We all know it. To fight against it says all I need to know about your motives.”
Eoin looked offended, but I couldn’t tell if it was genuine or not. “My motives? By all means, if you want to give the throne to Innis—and make no mistake. Niamh will be nothing more than his puppet—I won’t stop you.”
“Isn’t that what you just did?”
“No, I gave you a limited amount of time. I can’t make you do anything, Princess. I can only advise.”
I grunted. “Of course, because you don’t benefit from that at all.”
He sighed, clearly frustrated. “You are the most difficult, stubborn, foolish child I have ever met.”
