Chapter Thirteen
Aelia
That sneaky, conniving Shadow Fae would pay for this betrayal.
Marching across the too-bright hallways of my uncle’s castle behind a Royal Guardian, I followed the shimmery bonds that connected me to my traitorous cuoré.
The ache of the incessant hollow in my chest had woken me from a fitful sleep.
How dare he come to see Elian without me?
That stubborn fool was still trying to protect me, when he was currently the more volatile one.
Somehow, since I broke through Helroth’s control on the battlefield, I could feel his hold on my mind lessening.
Perhaps it was the distance between us, or the nights Reign and I spent faithfully cementing our cuorem.
I couldn’t say. Reign still barely slept most evenings, regardless, too anxious that I’d be ripped away from him again, despite my assurances that something had changed.
He was the one now barely hanging on by a thread of sanity.
What if he’d lost control of his powers and attacked Elian?
Turning a corner, my heart stuttered and the void in my chest immediately filled an instant before the slap of heavy footfalls reached my sensitive ears. I was sprinting past the guard before I could stop myself, throwing my arms around Reign’s stiff form.
“Never do that again,” I hissed, even as my treacherous lips brushed over his. I’m so angry with you. The ethereal strands of our mental bond surged to life as my words sailed through our connection.
He tensed for only a moment before his body yielded to mine. “What are you doing here?”
“What do you think?”
He eyed the guard over my shoulder, dark brows furrowing.
“We were supposed to come together,” I whispered.
“I decided that was not the optimal choice.”
Pulling out of his embrace, I jabbed a finger into his chest through his dark cloak. “You don’t get to decide that for me.”
The less time you spend with these conniving royals the better, Aelia.
He’s my uncle, Reign, and I need to know what side he is truly on. If he’s only fighting for me to ensure Tenebris’s demise, I must know that too.
“Ah, Aelia,” the king’s voice echoed through the enormous hall and the Royal Guardian immediately straightened to attention. “Reign did not tell me you had accompanied him.”
“Your Ethereal Highness.” I dipped into a bow. “I’m afraid that’s because I didn’t. I had another matter to attend to this morning, but I finished more quickly than planned and headed straight here.”
“Wonderful. Then I must insist you and your cuoré join me for the day.”
Reign’s suspicious glare flickered from the king then back to me. Your uncle certainly sings a different tune in your presence.
I could only imagine how the conversation had gone with the king before my arrival. He’d never kept his disdain for Reign a secret, even back in our days at the Conservatory.
We should return to the academy, Aelia.
I know, but I’ve come all this way, and I had hoped to ask him a few questions.
About your family…
I nodded. I must have inadvertently sent some of that silly hope through our bond because Reign’s hard expression softened.
Fine. We can stay—but not for long. There is much to be done.
Thank you.
As if I could ever say no to you, starlight.
I must have remained silent for too long because Elian cocked his head in my direction, irritation puckering his brow. “What do you say, Aelia? It is improper to deny the request of a king, you know.”
“Then I won’t.” I offered my best smile.
“Very well. I’ll have word sent to the kitchens that you’ll both be joining me for High Tea in an hour. I simply have a small matter I must attend to first.” He ticked his head at the Royal Guardian pressed to the wall. “Please escort our guests into the Rose Atrium to wait.”
“Of course, Your Ethereal Highness.”
The gilded tea set gleamed in the sunlight like it had never seen the Two Hundred Years’ War.
Porcelain cups sat delicately on gold-rimmed saucers, the steam of rosehip and faelight blossom curling upward like a perfumed spell.
A silver tiered tray of sugared pastries and fruit tarts sat untouched between us, an offering neither Reign nor I trusted enough to sample.
King Elian, in his immaculate white robes and smug serenity, looked every inch the benevolent monarch.
His golden hair was slicked back, not a strand out of place, and his smile was as blinding as the sun overhead.
I wanted to believe my only living relative had at least a shred of good in him.
He was my father’s brother, after all, and I needed to hold onto that scrap of hope.
“I apologize for keeping you waiting, but I truly am so pleased you accepted my invitation,” he said smoothly before turning his gaze to the attendant who immediately poured a cup for each of us with a flick of his wrist. “How could I resist the opportunity to dine with my niece and her formidable companion when they had so graciously, and unexpectedly, come to see me.”
Reign stiffened beside me, his shadows slithering beneath the table like barely restrained wolves. The overwhelming scent of nox and zar drifted beneath my nostrils, and I wondered if my uncle could sense it too. I only hoped my mate had it under control.
“Of course,” I replied, keeping my tone neutral. “We wouldn’t want to offend our gracious host.”
Reign’s hand brushed mine beneath the table, a grounding tether. I didn’t need the cuorem to know he was biting back several threats.
The king handed me a teacup with a dazzling smile. “You look like your father, you know.”
I blinked, the unexpected comment stealing my breath. “I wouldn’t know. I never met him, remember?”
“Ah,” Elian said, settling back in his chair, cradling his own cup. “Yes. Such a tragedy.”
The clink of porcelain was the only sound for a beat too long.
I cleared my throat. “That’s actually something I’ve been meaning to ask about, among countless other things. My parents, Alaric and Sable, how did they die? The history books are unclear.”
Reign tensed beside me. Elian, to his credit, didn’t flinch. He simply sighed, setting his tea down with a deliberate clink and folding his hands atop the table.
“We were never certain, I’m afraid,” he replied gently, eyes lifting to mine. “Your father returned from battle gravely wounded after the death of his dragon in the skies over Virevale. He refused our best healers. He claimed he was fine, but sadly, he followed his skyrider only days later.”
Emotion tightened my throat as I thought of my father and Solanthus, and the overwhelming grief they must have experienced.
“And my mother?” I forced out.
He gave a long, sorrowful shake of his head. “Sable… faded. That’s the only word for it. The healers believed it was the effects of the cuorem bond. When Alaric died, it tore something out of her. She passed quietly in her sleep not long after.”
My heart clenched. Reign’s hand tightened around mine as the sorrow rolled through me.
“Alaric was… protective. Overly so, especially with you and Sable. He rarely let either of you be seen in public, and he took great measures to ensure your mother’s identity was kept concealed. At the time, I didn’t understand it. I assumed it was an effect of the mate bond.”
I frowned. “How did you not know she was Shadow Fae?”
Elian tilted his head. “Well, I didn’t question any of it at the time.
There was no need to. She was radiant, and her hair was golden.
A perfect Light Court match. I assumed she was of noble blood from the eastern provinces.
Your father certainly did not explain his choice of wife to me.
Perhaps he used a glamour, or some sort of Mysthallian potion to hide her true identity.
There are old enchantments the spellbinders have mastered, you know, enough to fool even a king.
” He gave a tight smile, then sipped his tea again. “I didn’t suspect a thing.”
Liar.
The cuorem throbbed between Reign and me, and I knew he’d heard the same note I had.
It was the subtle, careful editing of truth.
Elian was too clever not to have known or at least suspected.
Too paranoid not to have asked. And yet here he was, playing the benevolent uncle, feigning regret over a history he may have helped erase.
“I just find it curious,” I said, voice calm but laced with steel, “that no one seemed to question why the king’s consort never left his private wing. Why no one met the mother of the heir.”
“I did question it,” Elian replied smoothly. “But Alaric was headstrong. And when I finally met you, it was already too late.”
He looked away then, as if pained by the memory.
“You were just a babe when they passed. I had no reason to believe you were anything other than Light.” He glanced at my hair and his lips twitched. “That lovely dark mane of hair had yet to grow in at the time. And then when you disappeared, I feared the worst. We all did.”
Another lie, softly wrapped in silk.
Reign’s voice was ice beside me. “You feared the prophecy.”
Elian met his gaze, unflinching. “Yes. The royal seers had just made the proclamation, shortly after Aelia was born. We all feared their words. But I assure you, I never guessed she could have been the one.” His eyes flickered in my direction.
“If I had, I would have gone to much greater lengths to search for you.”
“But you did search for me?”
“Of course, I did.”
Another long silence stretched between us. The tea grew cold. Did Elian have any idea it was Aidan who stole me away? Raysa, I wished to ask more, but I didn’t dare put my guardian in the king’s crosshairs.
After another few minutes of idle chitchat, in which he avoided answering most of my questions, silence settled between us.
“Well,” Elian finally said, rising to his feet. “I hope this meeting has helped mend some of the misunderstandings between us. I do wish for us to maintain a good relationship, Aelia.”
I rose, too, schooling my expression into something unreadable. “Yes, of course. And it’s certainly given us some clarity.”
He smiled, and I swore there was something wolfish beneath it. “Good. I hope you’ll stay for the remainder of the day, Aelia. Even overnight. I’ve had a chamber prepared for you and your cuoré. This is your home, after all.”
I nodded, forcing a cordial smile. “That’s very gracious of you, uncle. I do find myself quite exhausted after the flight from the academy. It’s been quite a trying few weeks.”
“I can only imagine.” He dipped his head. “Please, make yourself at home.”
Reign’s arm found my waist the moment we stepped outside the atrium’s sun-drenched doors.
Do you believe him? His voice skimmed through my frazzled thoughts.
I want to. I kept my eyes forward as we followed the guard. But I don’t. Let him believe the lie is working until we’ve taken down the Night Court, and then, we come for him next.