Chapter 23
Sabine
Ipace back and forth in Hekkelveld Castle’s library—housed on the second floor, with a balcony overlooking the city like a bird’s perch. I clutch Woudix’s ancient book to my chest with an iron grip.
It’s been two days since Woudix came. Two days since I quietly went to visit Rian in the Coffin, to give him back his bone dice in exchange for a strategy that will win me the public’s favor.
One day since Rian helped Basten end the siege on our city.
And it vexes me—how useful he’s been to both of us. How much we’ve needed him.
The door groans open, and I spin around, holding the book tighter.
Basten steps in, dressed in a fresh black linen shirt with his antler symbol across the shoulders, his hair pulled back in a loose knot at his nape, and my body softens.
“Basten, thanks for coming.” I step forward, a million words poised on my lips.
Because of the siege’s end, we’ve barely seen each other outside of a few glances in our comings and goings.
He’s been out in the streets, hour after hour, feeding the hungry, carting the injured to the castle infirmary, helping the royal army plan the arduous task of repairing the city.
While I’ve been poring over Woudix’s book, transfixed by every page. “I’m so glad you’re here, I—”
A step behind him, Kendan strides into the room, followed by Suri, followed by Matron White.
My words cut off, strangled.
Other than the bandages covering the burn marks on her face and arms, she looks exactly like the woman who tormented me for twelve years, down to that damn self-righteous smirk.
Instantly, I go cold from my ears to my toes. It’s followed by a wash of anger.
“What is she doing here?” I spin on Basten, my cheeks burning red, chest heaving so hard I can barely catch a breath.
Kendan sets a rolled map on the library table, clearing his throat as though that could break the stalemate between the Matron and me. “You called for all the leaders of the opposition.”
“I’m not certain you understand who exactly I’m opposed to,” I say between clenched teeth.
“Goddess,” Matron White interjects, and I can’t help but bristle at the note of sarcasm in her tone, “May I note that, thanks to my priests’ efforts, the city’s opinion of you has drastically changed.
Why, no one even remembers a time you were labeled a traitor.
They blame Rian Valvere for spreading those slanderous rumors and praise you as the Winged Lady of legend, the Goddess of Nature, here to save our kingdom.
Why, just this morning, every Red Church in the city held a candlelight vigil for your salvation. ”
Gods—how this woman’s face irritates me. The only small amount of satisfaction I get is knowing those burn marks will disfigure her forever, and every time she looks in a mirror, she’ll think of me.
She goes on to say, “I am only here as a mouthpiece for the Red Church; a messenger of devotion, here to report on the church’s ample efforts to aid in the city’s clean up; surely you wish for us to continue our assistance to the hungry and needy?”
I stare daggers at her.
Basten folds his arms, looking no more pleased than me. He lets out a long exhale. “Sabine?”
“You don’t have to work directly with the Matron,” Suri suggests. “What if we ask her to leave for now, and I’ll be a go-between?”
I bite back bitter anger. “It’s fine. She can stay.”
Kendan taps the map, hoping to bring us back to the plan.
“Queen Sabine, I’m glad you called this meeting.
Now, if you’ll look at this map, you’ll see that the High Quarter and Varn Row sustained the most damage from the siege.
We’re bringing in bricklayers from as far as Blackwater to help repair efforts.
As far as the dissenters, I’m afraid at least two dozen sentinels fled, as well as one of the leaders of the Cold Coins.
Folke is out now, leading a team to hunt them down, but progress is slow. ”
I glance out the window, where the top of Faith Tower is just visible. “Ask Rian, then.”
Kendan starts, blinking hard. “Rian Valvere?”
Basten gives me an odd look, as though I might have bumped my head.
“I’m not suggesting we pardon him,” I say flatly. “As far as I’m concerned, he should remain a prisoner indefinitely. But we also have to be practical. He’s a resource. No one knows this city’s safe houses like Rian does. He could lead you straight to their hiding places.”
“Thay may be true,” Kendan admits, “but it’s risky to let him out into the city on his own, even with guards.”
“I’ll go with him,” Basten says.
Both Kendan and Suri sputter at the same time. Suri then garbles, “Basten, you can’t! You’re the king!”
“Lady Suri has a point, Majesty,” Kendan agrees. “You can’t put yourself at risk hunting down criminals. Besides, your face is well known. Step into the Sin Streets, and you’ll be swarmed with your subjects asking for your favor.”
“I’ll wear a mask,” he says, his hard voice leaving no room for debate. “But if we’re letting that cur out of his kennel, I’m damn sure holding his leash.”
Kendan still looks like he has doubts, so I raise my hands.
“It’s good to hear progress on recovery efforts,” I say, “However, I called this meeting because I’ve become aware of a possible threat—the Fae Court was considering attacking Astagnon.”
Suri jumps up, alarmed. “What?”
I quickly lift my hands higher for calm. “It’s okay—I struck a fae bargain. I promised we would provide events worthy of the gods, that will stir the public’s adoration. Now, we just have to make good on that bargain. And I think I know how.”
Kendan and Suri exchange concerned looks. Matron White gnaws on the inside of her cheek, glancing out the window as if a bolt of Vale’s fey will shoot down from the sky at any moment.
Only Basten keeps his eyes on me. “How?”
“Games,” I say, my eyes lighting up. “We hold two days of Fae Games for the masses. We’ll do a recreation of the Ride of Night and Day. Meric’s Labyrinth in the Hedge Maze. Goldenclaw rides for children.”
They stare at me, but I push forward.
“It’s about ritual,” I explain. “And repetition. Re-enacting legends of old, again and again, gives them power. That’s what people love most about the fae. The stories. So, we’ll bring the stories to life for them. Remind them why they should embrace the fae, not fear them.”
I feel a little breathless as I gaze between their faces.
Certainty brims in my chest—I know this idea will work. Because it isn’t my idea at all.
You need a reason to make the public care, Rian said when I went to see him in the Coffin. From the other side of the bars, his eyes lit up. To make them forget their fear. Only their wonder.
“I…think that could work,” Suri says, her eyes lighting up. “In fact, that’s brilliant! Just like the Theatrics we saw in Duren of the Night Hunt. I’ve never seen people so riveted.”
“It’s one thing,” Kendan points out, “to entertain the masses with actors and pantomimes. But what happens when the real fae arrive, and it’s no longer a game?”
My stomach curls. I wrap my fingers around the book’s edges. “That’s where this comes into play.”
I set the book on the table. They all lean forward, curious. There’s no title on the cover, so Suri carefully flips the parchment pages to the first one.
She gasps. “The Last Return of the Fae? The second volume? You found it! Where was it?”
I skirt her question and flip through more of the pages, showing them the handwritten text.
“It’s only partially written in the Old Tongue.
I’ve translated a few portions already. Once I can figure out the other language, I’ll finish translating the final part, about how to put the fae back to sleep.
Then, when my father and the court arrive, we’ll give them the opportunity to do the right thing.
There’s a real chance that having their blessings could do great things for Astagnon, if they set their intentions toward it, instead of pure selfishness.
If they don’t, we’ll have the threat of putting them back to sleep to keep them in line. ”
Suri doesn’t look at me as she whispers, “But you are one of them, Sabby.”
My eye twitches. “I care about the people of this kingdom.”
“What I meant was,” she presses, “won’t it put you to sleep, too?”
The room falls silent, and the crackle of the fire feels almost deafening. I exchange a quick look with Basten—but I’m not sure what I read in his dark brown eyes.
“I’ll do what I have to,” I say quietly.
No one responds, and I can feel their doubts like mothwings beating against my face. Basten must sense my isolation, because he purposefully comes around to my side of the table, flipping through the book.
“Where did you find it?” he asks. “And where did you get the information about the fae court?”
I fidget with a loose thread on my dress sleeve, not meeting his eyes. This is a secret I’ve already kept too close, too long. Anyway, there’s no lie I could say that anyone would believe.
“It was given to me. By…Woudix.”
“Woudix?” Suri echoes with a gasp. “You saw him?”
I look away and nod.
The room goes still enough that my breathing rasps like dry autumn leaves. I’m acutely aware of everyone’s eyes on me, wavering with a million questions, but at the moment, the only person’s thoughts I care about are Basten’s.
I look up at him, my heart hammering, tugging so hard on the loose thread that I might unravel my whole sleeve. “I…should have told you. He’s…he’s visited me a few times.”
Instantly, I flinch. Maybe I should have lied.
After all, Basten lied to me too about knowing Matron White was alive.
Basten’s face is closed off to me, dark and cloudy like a night storm. The longer his silence stretches, the faster my pulse raps, setting off waves of panic that stab into my heart.
“You’ve been meeting secretly with Woudix?” He spits the last word with such vitriol that everyone in the room takes a step back.