Chapter 42
Chapter Forty-Two
Aurelia
The bell above the jewelry shop door didn’t ring when I slipped inside.
But I still heard it echo inside my head from the first time I’d come here.
Then, it had been a friendly chime as Callan led me from glass case to glass case, hoping to impress me with the coin he’d spend on something shiny for his almost-bride.
All while lying to me about how his father planned to bleed the entire court dry of their magic. Me included.
Tonight, the shop was dark. According to Slade, it had been closed since the day the Withered attacked us here. The bell had been silenced—just like the shop owner himself had been silenced on Callan’s order.
My heart ached for the elderly fae who’d lost his life that day, likely for the simple crime of trying to warn me about what was really happening to Autumn citizens. Then, the Withered had attacked us.
Rydian had saved my life—again.
And everything had changed.
It seemed a fitting meeting place for tonight’s subterfuge. Here I was, planning to stop a wedding. Again. At this rate, I was probably qualified enough to fall back on it as a career if being the Chosen One didn’t work out.
Slade had picked the lock in about three heartbeats. Thorne had checked the alley twice. Now they waited outside, one at the front, one at the back, shadow and muscle guarding the exits while I stood surrounded by reminders of a life I’d narrowly escaped.
I ran a finger over the counter where Callan once told me to pick something—“anything you want, Princess”—like trinkets could make up for losing everyone I loved to a curse made of perpetual slumber.
“Are you sure he’ll come?” Slade had asked me earlier, after convincing a courtier to carry the message into the castle.
Of course Callan would come.
His ego wouldn’t allow him to ignore it.
I shifted my weight, listening to the muted sounds of Grey Oak at night—distant voices, a wagon wheel rattling over cobblestone, the faint clatter of a tavern somewhere down the lane. The city felt tense. Like it was holding its breath for tomorrow.
For the wedding.
For the moment their king publicly tied himself to the monster at their doorstep.
My fingers brushed the tattoo along my throat. The only way we’d stop Heliconia would be with the power imbued to me from this mark. And even then, only if I could control it. I hadn’t been able to bring myself to admit that to Slade or Thorne. And neither one had asked.
The door latch clicked.
I went still.
No bell. No sound. Just a soft draft of cold air and the faint, familiar scent of expensive cologne.
“I have to say,” Callan murmured, “your choice of location is almost romantic.”
He stood just inside the door, unhooded, unguarded. No crown. No armor. Though, beneath his dark cloak, I glimpsed a tunic pressed and tailored within an inch of its life, as if he’d stepped out of a ball rather than skulked here alone in the middle of the night.
His gaze swept the shop before landing on me. For a heartbeat, his expression flickered.
“Hello, Aurelia.”
“Callan.”
He shut the door behind him and leaned against it like he owned the place. Which, knowing him, he probably did now.
“No entourage?” I asked.
“I travel light these days,” he said. “Besides, according to your note, if anyone asks, I’m visiting the goddess’ temple and praying to the Fates before the big day.”
“Did you? Pray?”
He smirked. “The Fates aren’t exactly my go-to deity these days. Nor, I suspect, are they yours. Even if they were reachable, they’re a bit too sweet for what I want done.”
“Maybe you won’t need divine intervention,” I said. “You do have a knack for scaring away your bride all on your own.”
“Aren’t we full of humor tonight?” He stepped closer, boots soundless on the floor. “So. You summoned me to a jewelry shop the night before my wedding. Either you’re here to kill me, or you’ve finally come to your senses and want a ring from me after all.”
He said it lightly, but there was something under the words. A question he wouldn’t ask outright.
I ignored both. “I’m here because you’re out of time.”
His jaw flexed. “Yes, well, I did bring that to your attention back when we had a bit more of it.”
“I know. And I’m sorry for not doing more to help.”
The humor fell away like a cloak. I saw it then, the pain I’d caused by refusing him. The fear he was battling on his own.
“Tell me what you want,” he said quietly.
I gestured to the back of the shop, where a curtain separated the front room from a narrow storage space. “Not here.”
He glanced once at the door, as if reassuring himself no one had followed him, then moved past me. His shoulder brushed mine as he went by, and I couldn’t help but flinch.
He stilled. “I’m not going to compel you.”
“I know,” I said even though I wasn’t sure I believed it.
We ducked behind the curtain into a cramped room that smelled of metal polish and old wood. Shelves lined the walls, cluttered with small boxes and trays. A single high window let in a sliver of moonlight.
Thorne would be just beyond the rear door. Slade, a shadow near the front. We were as safe as we were going to get.
Callan turned to face me, back to the shelves, arms folding loosely across his chest. “You have my undivided attention.”
I stared at him, at the dark circles ringing his eyes and the fine lines around his mouth that hadn’t been there before. For all his bravado, he looked tired.
“You know why she wants you,” I said.
“I assume you don’t mean my devastating charm.”
“The Harvest Throne.”
His gaze intensified. “Go on.”
“The power inside it. The gods’ power left here after the Great War. She drained Concordia’s throne to keep herself alive after she cursed my people. She wants yours next.”
A muscle ticked in his jaw. “How do you know this?”
I swallowed past the lump in my throat. “Lesha.”
“Your Aine friend.”
I nodded. “She learned the information while she was Heliconia’s prisoner.”
His expression was grim, the gaunt look in his eyes like death.
“The last time we spoke,” I added, “You knew Heliconia’s interest in Autumn wasn’t just about territory.”
He huffed out a breath. “I suspected something. Since then, I’ve confirmed it. She confirmed it.”
“She’s not going to stop,” I said. “Once she takes Autumn, she’ll move on to the others. Midnight. Lightshore. The Coral Throne Beneath. If she drains them all…” I swallowed hard. “She won’t need armies anymore.”
“She’ll be a god,” Callan finished quietly.
We let that hang between us.
He broke the silence first. “So that’s your grand plan? Come to Grey Oak, scare me with worst-case scenarios, and hope I’ll call the whole thing off?”
“If you do,” I said tightly, “she’ll kill you and take it anyway.”
“I was wondering when we’d get to the comforting part.”
I bit back the instinctive retort. “I didn’t come here to fight with you.”
“Then why did you come, Aurelia?” The question had an edge to it. I couldn’t blame him for it, but I refused to take the bait.
I lifted my chin. “I came to stop her.”
“From where I’m standing,” he said, “she’s the one with five thousand soldiers and a kingdom of ice at her back. You brought…” His gaze flicked to the door, to the fae I knew he sensed there. “Two soldiers. And whatever wretched plan has you breaking into jewelry shops in the middle of the night.”
“We have more than two soldiers,” I said. “The Withered are on their way. Eirnan’s gathering Autumn fae along the route, recruiting anyone willing to fight.”
“Autumn?” His eyes flashed. “You’re recruiting my soldiers into your army?”
“Your people, your army, Callan. They’re doing what you can’t do yourself, so be grateful for it. But they won’t reach Grey Oak in time for the wedding. And we can’t let her sit that throne. Not even once.”
“So we stop the wedding,” he said. “How? Convince her to call it off? I’ve been trying that for weeks. She doesn’t take no for an answer.”
“We interrupt it,” I said. “In the throne room. In front of everyone.”
He stared at me, then shook his head. “Of course you will.”
“Slade’s magic can get us inside.”
“No,” Callan said, already shaking his head. “Autumn is warded against unauthorized entry. My father made sure of it. After Heliconia’s surprise arrival at our party those years ago.”
Seven Hels.
“In that case, you’ll have to make sure the guards let us through. No resistance. No alarms.”
“And how exactly do you propose I do that?” he asked, though we both knew the answer.
“You use your gift,” I said. “Your persuasion. Tell them to stand down. To let us pass.”
“You’re asking me to expose my ability—one that I’ve kept secret my entire life.”
“I’m asking you to help me stop her from stealing your kingdom.”
His jaw tightened. For a moment, he looked like his father. Then he shook it off, forcing a smile that didn’t reach his eyes.
“And after I persuade the guards to let you in?” he asked. “What then? Do you actually think you can take her?”
I held his gaze. “Yes.”
The word felt both too big and not big enough.
Callan lifted a brow. “Last I checked, she nearly killed you in Rosewood seven years ago.”
I exhaled slowly. “In the valley,” I said, “I burned her camp. Drained her Frostwights. Took the magic out of their bones and set fire to everything she’d built there.”
He held still. “I heard a rumor,” he admitted, “but I thought it was exaggerated. You’re telling me that was really you?”
“Would I lie about something like that?” I asked.
“Absolutely,” he said. “If you thought it would get you what you wanted.”
Despite myself, a corner of my mouth twitched. “Fair enough. It was me.”
For a moment, he just looked at me. Not like a king. Not like a boy who’d once thought he could buy my compliance with dresses and jewels and public adoration. Just like someone trying to reconcile the girl he’d tried to own with the woman capable of killing him where he stood.
“And you controlled it?” he asked quietly. “Your magic?”
I hesitated.