72. Chapter 72
A wine glass shattered against the marble floor, shards scattering like fallen stars. Crimson liquid bled across the stone.
A female fae writhed among the glass, her body convulsing.
Foam bubbled at her lips, frothing green as her eyes rolled back.
The color of her veins darkened. Her escort knelt beside her, only to seize and cough himself, his skin blotching crimson.
His fists slammed the floor once, twice, and then stilled.
“Poison!”
The shout was answered by the heavy thud of another body falling to the floor.
Then another.
Kaelin whirled to see the guards at the exit collapse one by one, their throats split open. Blood crept in rivers across the polished marble.
Gasps and screams fractured the harmony of music and laughter. Courtiers scrambled, skirts tearing, goblets clattering.
Sylven’s lanky figure sauntered into the chaos. His silver hair caught the glow like a halo, though his eyes burned with something unholy.
“Marvelous, isn’t it?” His voice was calm, almost admiring. “It’s new. Scentless. Slips into your wine without so much as a ripple. It even tastes sweet in Vaelaran vintages. ”
“What is the meaning of this?” King Maelion thundered, pushing to his feet. But Kaelin saw the tremor in his hands. He had drunk deeply from his glass that night. So had her mother, who now sat wide-eyed and pale, clutching the stem of her goblet as if it could anchor her.
Sylven’s smile curdled into something deadly. “The meaning is order. The order you’ve chipped away piece by piece, rotting centuries of tradition, all for the sake of… her.” His chin tipped toward Kaelin. “And the mortal she plays with.”
Several fae in soldiers’ armor filed in behind him, blocking the exits. Kaelin recognized insignias of House Vaelaran on their breastplates, and betrayal gleamed like steel in their eyes.
“We could stand by no longer,” Sylven continued, his voice rising over the panicked crowd. “You invite rot into the heart of this court, a human cur to sit at your table, and expect us to remain silent? No. Tonight, we cleanse House Vaelaran of weakness.”
Before anyone could retort, movement stirred from the shadows near the musicians’ platform.
A fae woman with dark hair.
Her braid had come loose in the commotion, strands of dark hair falling around a lean face hardened in resolve. The fae’s lips curled into a rueful smile as her hand went to the dagger at her hip.
Her eyes swept the room before settling on the dais where King Maelion still stood.
“I was sent to kill the prince during his return from exile,” she said.
“The ogre attack merely delayed the attempt. Tonight, it ends here.” She raised her voice, addressing everyone listening. “Tonight, you will all die.”
The hall erupted again in chaos, screams, sobs.
Sylven raised his voice. “There is no point in fighting.”
The words stilled the crowd like a spell.
Sylven’s gaze swept over them, calm and clinical, as if he were already presiding over their funerals.
“The poison drains your magic first. You’ve felt it already, haven’t you?
That hollow tug at your core, the magic inside dimming.
And when that’s gone…” He let the silence stretch, a predator savoring the moment.
“…you convulse. You choke. You die screaming. And before you ask – yes, it’s painful.
” He paused as a woman began choking, grasping at one of the columns before losing her footing. “As you can see. ”
Gasps rippled through the chamber. A fae lord clutched at his chest; another noblewoman dropped to her knees, whispering frantic prayers.
“So, draw your blades if it gives you courage,” Sylven went on.
“But understand that you will not escape what is already in your veins. Better to save yourselves the indignity of thrashing on the floor like animals. Say your prayers. Prepare to cross the Veil.” His face softened.
“I never wished it would come to this. But to set Vaelaran back on its rightful path, we do what we must. Even if it means blood in these very halls.”
The weight of his words pressed down on them all.
And what was once a glittering dream of splendor had curdled into a living nightmare.