Chapter 4 #2
Hector laughed. “Drustan, you certainly understand the motivations of others.”
Drustan made an irritated sound and strode forward to snatch up the missive. While he read, Alodie smiled at me, though her eyes were sad. We had been friends once—perhaps still were—but she had always been bound by duty, and we served different causes now.
Drustan’s jaw clenched. “Oriana will not be coming.”
“That’s it?” Hector asked.
Drustan tossed the missive on the table before seating himself. “Read it yourself.”
Hector didn’t move, but I picked up the paper and ran my eyes over the elegantly penned lines.
Despite the poor judgment of members of this house who participated in last night’s violence, Earth House remains neutral. We await news of what Fire, Void, Light, Illusion, and Blood decide.
A soft breath left me as rage dug sharp claws into my heart. That was Selwyn she was speaking of so dismissively. Her son , who at only sixteen had possessed the courage to rally Earth soldiers to attack the throne room. Her son, who had died at Osric’s hand, proud and defiant despite his fear.
“What a coward,” I whispered as the paper crinkled under my tight grip.
Alodie looked down at her feet.
“Eight centuries of suffering under Osric wasn’t enough for her, apparently,” Drustan said, anger evident in every line of his body. “So long as her hands remain clean, she will allow anything.”
Furious as I was with him, I couldn’t find fault in the sentiment. Neutrality sounded ideal in principle—to be a watcher of history, to document the truth without bias and stand apart from the violence so easily inflicted by others—but in the face of monstrous evil, it became complicity.
“May I bring a response to the princess?” Alodie asked.
“She doesn’t deserve a response,” Hector said, tapping his fingers on the table. “Let her wallow in her righteousness. We waste precious time trying to shift her opinion when there are lives at stake in all of our houses.”
“I agree,” Gweneira said.
I looked at Alodie, whose head was still bowed, and sorrow joined my anger. Earth House was full of people I’d come to care about. Oriana’s choices became theirs by default.
“Very well,” Drustan said. “We send no response.”
Alodie curtsied again. “My gratitude for the audience.” Then she was gone, slipping out the door with the quickness of a darting fish.
Drustan raised his hand and cast a ward over the door, shimmering and orange as a summer sunset. That magical boundary would stop noise from leaving the room—I knew because he’d used it during our meetings, and not just because we were whispering secrets.
Not a memory to think about right now. Unsure what else to do, I took the seat opposite Drustan. I looked a question at Kallen, but he shook his head and remained standing with his hands clasped behind his back.
“Gweneira,” Drustan said, “will you tell us about the current state of Light House?”
“Chaos,” Gweneira replied, leaning in. “There are more of Osric’s loyalists than there are supporters of the revolution, but as I’m sure you know from your own houses, there are many who have kept their opinions private and chosen the path of least risk.
Osric’s death will sway more to our side if we can capitalize on that momentum—which I am doing my best to accomplish. ”
“Who else is positioning themselves as Roland’s successor?” Kallen asked.
“Torin and Rowena.”
Hector made a face. “I’d tried to forget about them.”
Feeling embarrassingly ignorant, I cleared my throat. “Who are Torin and Rowena?”
Gweneira turned her cool brown eyes to me. “Torin is my cousin. Rowena is his consort, but they plan to oversee the house as equals.”
“Oh. Is that…common?”
“Not at all. But the two of them have been acting as one for six hundred years, so this isn’t a surprise.” She paused. “It would be best for everyone if they did not prevail.”
“They’re insane,” Hector told me bluntly.
“Don’t discount them,” Gweneira said. “They are sadists in Osric’s vein, yes, but they’re also cunning.”
A shiver went down my spine. “But you might take over the house instead?”
She nodded. “My claim is weaker than Torin’s by blood, but I’m indisputably the leader of the faction that supported Drustan, and the house will always preserve itself above all else. If I can gather enough to my cause, the rest will fall in line.”
Drustan rapped his knuckles on the table. “I would like to discuss the military resources we each bring to this alliance, since skirmishes will undoubtedly begin soon. But first, we have a pressing matter to decide. An alliance cannot function without a leader.”
Hector straightened in his chair. Every eye in the room landed on me.
Anxiety surged in my chest, and my magic swelled with it. Ribbons of crimson power began twining around my fingers, startling me, and I fisted my hands in my lap to hide the evidence of my emotional response.
“Kenna,” Drustan said, “I understand last night was a difficult one, but you’ve now had some time to think about it, and we must close ranks. Do I have your support?”
Anxiety escalated to panic. This wasn’t just my life at stake—it was the fate of all six houses.
Tens of thousands of lives. I shot to my feet and started pacing.
“Gweneira supports you, doesn’t she? Why does it matter what I think?
” There were four houses represented in this room, and Drustan already had half of the vote.
The best I could do was tie it by declaring for Hector—which I was equally unwilling to do.
I knew nothing about him except for a few very frightening rumors.
“I am not a princess yet,” Gweneira said. “I cannot speak on behalf of Light House, and by the time I can, we will already be in the midst of war.”
“Then Oriana needs to have a say,” I said, seizing on any reason not to have this decision come down to me. “Why not try one more time to win her over?”
“Why not make the choice yourself?” Drustan snapped, clearly losing patience. “You have been gifted an enormous amount of power, but with that comes the responsibility to use it. It is an honor to be in this meeting, particularly considering where you came from.”
I flinched. Where I came from. The pathetic little human, elevated from her pathetic little life. He probably thought showing me his cock had been an honor, too. Bitterness lay heavy on my tongue. “I told you, I want proof that you’re fit to rule.”
Flames flickered in his eyes. He shoved his chair back and stalked towards me, and the heat of his approach smacked against my skin. “You are the most—”
Kallen was suddenly there, positioning himself between Drustan and me. “You know her terms.”
Drustan looked even more incensed at Kallen’s interference. “I am to perform tricks to earn a crown I’ve already won?”
“If you’d already won it, it would be on your head,” Kallen said with cutting precision.
“We do not have time for this.”
“Perhaps you do not. I am sure Hector would be happy to provide Kenna with whatever she needs. Some written policies, perhaps?”
Hector made a face. He would not, in fact, be happy to do that. “Certainly,” the Void prince said.
“You want written policies?” Drustan asked me over Kallen’s shoulder, looking incredulous. “Shall I detail foreign relations with faerie courts you’ve never heard of? Break down our system of tithes? I’m eager to get your keen political insight on matters you have no experience with.”
I sucked in a breath, stung by the words—and by how true they were.
“Drustan,” Kallen said warningly. “If you want her support, you have to actually motivate her to support you.”
Drustan sneered at Kallen. “Oh, I motivated her plenty, trust me.”
Kallen’s jaw clenched, and his hand brushed the hilt of his sword.
But his reaction was nothing compared to the rage that swept through me at Drustan’s insinuation.
Caedo had been coiled at my neck, but at a thought, the dagger slithered into my hand and took form.
I stepped around Kallen, pointing the blade at Drustan’s throat.
“I used to fuck you,” I said bluntly. “There, I’ve said it.”
Drustan’s eyes widened. “I didn’t mean—”
“Whether or not we used to sleep together has no bearing on my decision now,” I continued, talking over him, “or on the way you will treat me. Which is with respect.” The dagger trembled in my hand. “This is new to me, and I’m doing my best.”
There was a heavy pause while we stared at each other. The contempt was gone from his expression, replaced by something weary and…sad?
No , I thought. He wasn’t allowed to grieve something he’d destroyed.
He bowed his head. “You’re right,” he said, surprising me. “Forgive me, Kenna.”
A lump grew in my throat. Was that apology even genuine? Did it matter if it was? Regardless of sincerity, he’d apologized in front of others, and a strategic faerie might say the appearance of contrition was more important than the actual substance of it.
I wasn’t like the rest of the Fae, though. I had to believe in something. “Thank you,” I said, lowering the dagger. I stepped back until I no longer felt the radiating heat of his body.
Drustan took a deep breath. “I am sympathetic to your uncertainty,” he said, clearly grappling for politeness. “What would put your mind at ease?”
Hector’s eyes flicked between Drustan, me, and a spot over my shoulder. Kallen was still lingering behind me, and I didn’t understand why he had come to my defense or why he wanted Drustan to treat me better. It would only be to Hector’s benefit if Drustan enraged me.
“You know what I care about.” My voice wobbled despite my desire to remain composed. “Or you should know. We talked about it often enough.”
He nodded. “The people.”
So he did understand. “Yes. All the people whose lives will supposedly be so much better under your rule. That’s what I care about, not your tithing policy.”
Was that regret in his eyes? “I do care about them, Kenna. This isn’t just a power grab.”