Chapter 52
I’ve hardly eaten breakfast and readied myself for the day before chaos erupts across the entire palace the next morning.
“I don’t know what His Highness put in that letter or what the Neverseen King has done,” Edvear says, coming back from some errand, and panting hard as he shuts the door, “but it looks like heads are going to roll.”
“Heads?” I ask, wiping my mouth with a napkin and rising from the table. “What has happened?”
Before he can answer, the door opens once more. Ash’s shoulders fill the doorframe. He shoots eyes flashing with thrill and a devilish grin my way.
“Want to come see the fun?” he asks me by way of greeting.
“Are you sure it would be safe for—” Edvear protests.
But Ash catches me by the hand and drags me out of his quarters into the hallway. It’s usually empty, but right now it’s full of guards and bustling servants.
“Should I—” I start to ask about my glamours, but Ash cuts me off with a sharp shake of his head, apparently knowing exactly what I was wondering.
He tucks me into his side protectively and pushes through the throng, his grip tightening every time someone steps too close to me.
It’s a stark reminder of just how vulnerable I still am, no matter my glamours and newfound strength. If I am hidden as someone else, I am safer. But I, as myself, Princess Stella, am vulnerable as ever.
Ash leads me to the palace greens, not through the main entrance, but through a servant’s corridor until we circle around to the side and come upon the tableau.
The High King stands on the marble steps of the palace, flanked by his guards. He wears his tall, golden crown on his golden head, a long spear in his hand.
Before him, on the palace greens, stands an entourage wreathed in black. At their helm are two figures—each at least seven feet tall. The woman wears a black gown made of shimmering silver stars, her dark skin effervescent like a moon’s shadow. Her hair is white as fresh snow, falling over her shoulder and to the ground in a show of cascading beauty. Her crown is jagged and sharp, made of obsidian.
The man beside her is equally tall, though his skin is pale, and his long hair a rich, raven black. He wears a trailing robe that catches and swallows the light around him. His crown matches the woman’s, and together, they are a force unlike anything I have ever seen before.
Lord and Lady Nothril.
Rahk’s parents.
And I thought my father was intimidating.
Behind the king and queen of the Nothril Court are dozens of Nothril warriors in dark, reflective armor. They are all armed to the teeth, but none have drawn their weapons.
“To what do I owe this pleasure?” the High King asks.
It is Lady Nothril who speaks. “We have come to retrieve our prince and princesses. Their time of visiting Valehaven has come to an end.”
I steal a glance at Ash and find him watching the scene with rapt attention. Around us, more fae are gathering, nobles and commonfolk alike, and the scene is silent as a graveyard. Waiting.
The High King smiles. “I’m sure you did not need so many warriors to bring them home. Do you expect them to put up a fight?”
“The instability of your rule does not give you leeway to threaten our heirs,” replies Lady Nothril, bothering with neither civility nor diplomacy.
I can almost hear the anger bubbling in Faradir’s gut as his smile twists just slightly.
Ash’s head whips to my right, and he pulls me to his other side, shooting silent threats with his gaze at the guard who stepped too close to me.
“No harm has come to your heirs,” Faradir says, upholding his air of magnanimous king. “There is no need to hurl insults.”
“Did you intend harm on Prince Rahk or Princess Pelarusa?” Lord Nothril speaks for the first time, and his voice rumbles through my entire body, making me shiver and lean closer to Ash.
“My actions and intentions are never unprovoked,” says the High King, unable to give an honest denial. He lifts his chin and narrows his eyes. “And if you intend to keep posturing, I may be provoked into showing you why it is I who am High King, and not you.”
This sounds like a fabulous time to leave and go back to our quarters before we become collateral damage. And yet, I couldn’t leave the scene even if Ash wanted me to.
Lady Nothril lifts her chin even higher than Faradir’s, and on her, it’s far more terrifying. “You have the gall to threaten us when it may be only hours or days before the Neverseen King stages his coup. All after I have received multiple reports of you threatening my heirs when they have done nothing except be caught in the associations of another court’s traitor.”
The High King goes strangely still.
Listhra.Everyone now believes her to be a traitor, not just the High King. My mind whirls and my balance goes unsteady. It’s one thing to hear Ash speak of these things in theory, when they sound like harebrained ideas that might or might not work.
It’s another to watch the fruit of Ash’s machinations unfold right before my eyes. To see exactly how we led everyone to believe Listhra is working with the Neverseen King to overthrow Faradir, and how we took a loyal Court and turned them against him.
The High King’s face has gone pale. At first, I am not sure why. Then he speaks, and my eyes widen with realization.
“What did you say about the Neverseen King?”
He didn’t know.
Faradir’s spies are everywhere. That was why yesterday’s plan worked. Yet somehow, they haven’t discovered this piece of information.
The Neverseen King must have been very clever and swift about how he constructed his own plot.
“You did not know?” Lady Nothril demands. Her low voice rises in pitch until it is almost—but not quite—shrill. “You did not know the Neverseen King intends to overthrow you? You did not knowthat he has gone to every single Court to collect those who would swear fealty to him as High King? You didn’t know there is a tremendous number of fae who would take anyone, even the half-human spawn of your heir and his pet, over you?”
Faradir’s lips pull back from sharp canines. His fist tightens on the spear he holds. “Take your heirs and be gone before I make do on the threats I have issued. If you continue to overstep, you will not like the consequences. And neither will your heirs.”
Lady Nothril’s mouth tilts up a fraction. “Spoken like a man truly about to fall.”
“Spoken like a woman who longs for the death of her firstborn son,” replies Faradir.
Ash’s eyes widen. My heart stutters.
And as if sensing us, the High King swivels his head toward us, his blue eyes piercing straight into Ash, then me.
I know you’re behind this,the look says. And I know how to make you regret it.
Faradir turns back to Lord and Lady Nothril, and already, Rahk, Pelarusa, and two other princesses I do not know have slipped into the ranks of the Nothril Court.
Faradir lifts one hand to Lord and Lady Nothril—a farewell. Then he turns his back to them and marches into the palace.
The Nothril entourage likewise turns and marches away. Rahk is the only one who looks back, who finds Ash and me in the throng of onlookers. His face is an impenetrable mask, but the gesture itself says more than enough.
I peer up at Ash, at the grim set of his handsome brow, the tight angle of his jaw. Still, the light remains in his eye, that fierce glint that at times has scared me. The glint that says he will play this game as ugly and messy as he must to win.
He takes my hand and guides me back into the palace, his gaze constantly roaming, his nose upturned for the scent of threats. He leads me through quieter passages, away from the din. I make note of every turn, memorizing this palace that—if all goes well—will be my home for the rest of my life.
Maybe.
“Ash,” I whisper.
He looks down at me, and with a flick of his wrist, the scattering servants’ and guards’ footsteps around us are cut off, leaving us in a silent bubble.
“He’s going to retaliate,” I say.
“The Neverseen King will distract him.”
He says those words, and they are true—but we both know they shield a lie. He knows as well as I that angering the High King always, always has its price.
“I’ve spent too much time defending, and not enough time attacking—or attacking for foolish reasons,” Ash says quietly, his large hand gripping mine. “This time, I’m attacking from every front. Yes, he will retaliate, but I intend to set enough fires ablaze that his attention grows divided. Then we can swoop in for the final blow. Speaking of which, we have one final trap to lay.”