Chapter 10
RYLIAN
One day until the equinox, and my strength is fading.
I’ve decided not to try to hold court tomorrow, as I will probably be too weak.
I am not sure if it’s the right decision.
But the wards have already faltered once, and sustaining them is more important than pomp and circumstance.
I am not sure how I restored the ward, if I’m honest. I thought all had been lost until I received a sudden surge of unexplainable power, and the wards were better for a bit.
Today, though, they wane again as I reach my nadir.
And I still haven’t heard of Castelis’s whereabouts, until finally Duke Alred shows up in the last minutes of my usual court.
“Sire, I bring terrible news. After arriving in the Spring Court, Castelis attempted to use an additional vial of Snowdrop there upon their crystals, and the Spring Queen executed her.”
Shock shoots through me. No… Castelis? Dead? I feel I may have gone pale, which would reveal too much, far too much. I struggle to find a response.
“I don’t believe you.” It’s too direct, but it’s all I can manage. He’s got to be lying.
“I have proof, sire. Her talisman.” Alred reaches into his pouch and pulls out a small pendant. “May I, sire?”
“Yes.”
He approaches me, and I narrow my eyes. But when my eyes fix on the pendant, my heart freezes to a block of ice.
It is most certainly hers.
I snatch it from his hand to inspect it, and I can feel the new leaf green tinge of concern still clinging to it.
Her essence. If her essence clings to it, she must still be alive.
Mustn’t she? In truth, because the magic is secret, some nuances aren’t known to me.
But my gut tells me her aura cannot survive death.
I’m staring at it too long. I glance up, eyes narrowing again. The Alred that’s watched me analyze the pendant isn’t a repentant subject, watching for signs of forgiveness in my face. No, his eagle eyes are looking to see what Castelis means to me. Or meant to me.
Unfortunately for us all, the answer to that is—nothing. There wasn’t time, and there are no secret trysts for him to discover, just one all too brief cup of tea.
“You’ve failed, Alred. What do you have to say for yourself?”
His eyes widen. “There was nothing I could do, sire?”
I rise, staring down at him and using the full advantage of my height. “You could have followed the proper protocol, as I’m sure you would have done with my father, and brought the traitor to me.”
His mouth gapes, and I think he’s truly shocked that he’s not getting away with this.
“I told you if you failed you would pay her price, and I meant it.”
Immediately he throws himself onto his knees. “Sire, please—the girl is dead either way. Spare my life.”
It’s true. Is the death of them both justified? That’s harder to discern in the moment. “And she would have died at my hand instead of my rival’s if you had followed protocols.”
“But the punishment is the same, is it not?”
“Not for you. Wardens—imprison him.”
“Sire!”
But I’m not listening, as I woodenly sink back into my throne. I barely have the energy for this. I can feel wards flickering and the Winter Court testing my strength.
And as the equinox reaches its full power tomorrow, I will be at my weakest.