54. Vexxion
54
VEXXION
S tanding near the arch and to the king’s right inside the throne room, I dug at the back of my neck and struggled to keep a bland expression on my face.
Brodine had arrived along with other Nullens, and they stood off to the side like stoic sentinels. A few discreetly peered around the room, taking in the flowers strung on strands across the ceiling, the captured sprites generating sparkling light, and the creamy fabric draped artfully along the walls. Gone was the throne room where the king dispensed his heavy hand of justice, replaced only for today with the fixings for a brutal ruler’s wedding.
While Brodine had not risen to the surface and continued to stare at nothing, I could tell Tempest had found him. The spell worked well. No one knew he was no longer collared except me.
There was no fifth collar for my neck, though I’d tried .
While pain coursed across my throat, I was thankful that her friends had a chance of living the way they were supposed to.
Madrood had been brought in through the large door along the wall the king had crafted for this purpose. He rested on his haunches near the dais, looking as unamused about the pageantry as me. Who did the king plan to burn today?
High lords and ladies dressed in their finest had settled in seats on either side of the aisle behind me. Their titters and the low murmur of their voices rang out, echoing across the ceiling. Used to being entertained at all times, they were getting bored already.
“Where is she?” Ivenrail asked High Advisor Adwarin who’d wormed his way between me and the king. I hadn’t protested him taking the spot reserved for the king’s controller.
My controlling days were over. Soon, the plan I’d put into place when I met Tempest would begin. Now I was just a puppet on strings waiting for the true master to arrive and control me .
“I’m not sure, my king,” the high advisor said.
“Someone fetch Brenna,” the king barked. “It’s time for the wedding to begin.”
One of the high ladies fainted, tumbling off her seat, landing hard on the red carpet swirling down the marble-tiled aisle. Her fae companion jerked from his seat, lifted her, and placed her back in her chair, pinning her upright with an arm across her chest. Her head lolled, but as long as she didn’t disrupt the event any further, she would not draw Madrood’s attention .
I closed my eyes but only for a moment. I wanted to reach out to Tempest one last time. To touch her. Hold her. Love her. Tell her in every way I could that she was treasured above all others.
Our time had flown, and we’d arrived at the turning point that would send her on the path I’d crafted not long ago.
She’d walk alone on the path, and the thought of that tore through me. I hung by one hand on the wire stretching across that imaginary cavern, and my grip was slipping.
The king grumbled and huffed.
“She can’t flit, Your Highness,” the high advisor whispered, overly loud in the starkly cold room. The audience remained silent, wise to the fact that one wrong move could draw the king’s—and Madrood’s—attention. “I’m sure her ladies will bring her to you soon.”
“Make sure you grab her when they do,” Ivenrail hissed for his advisor’s ears alone. “Hold her so I can finish draining her when this is over.”
“You won’t need her after that, Your Highness, but I . . .” High Advisor Adwarin’s conniving gaze caught mine. “ I would be happy to take what’s left.”
“You can have the rider when I’m finished,” Ivenrail snapped.
The high advisor jerked his head in a tight bow, his face blazing pink with excitement.
Did they not remember that I was present?
A lovely arch festooned with ribbons and flowers, the kind of thing a woman like Brenna would adore, stood in the lower section in the room. The elder who’d perform the ceremony, dressed in a black formal robe, shifted his feet, glancing from the audience to the king, then back again.
Musicians waited in the far-left corner, holding instruments poised to be blown or strung upon the moment Brenna appeared. To anyone looking in from the outside, we were prepared to conduct the glorious wedding of the king to his favored lady.
The guests were about to receive an unwelcome surprise.
The door opened at the end of the aisle, and the guests craned their necks to watch. A few stood, as was appropriate when the bride entered.
Kerune strode through the opening instead, continuing down the aisle while the tall doors banged shut behind him. He walked over to the king and whispered something I suspected I needed to hear.
“Yes, you’re right. It’s past time,” Ivenrail said.
For one moment, my heart paused.
When the king turned his sly gaze my way, my heart turned to stone.
A flick of his finger, and I was wrenched toward the wall. I hit the stone hard enough to drive the air from my lungs.
Just like when I was five years old, manacles wormed their way through the wall, snapping around my wrists and ankles.
As I hung suspended, trying to draw on the power constricted by the collar a mad man had placed around my throat, that same mad man left the pretty arch and strode over to stand beneath me.
“I thought you’d learned long ago,” he snarled. His head tipped back, and the rage filling his face consumed me. “Did you think I didn’t see your plan all along?”
He bound me with power he’d drained from me .
I couldn’t speak.
I could barely breathe.
And I could do nothing to protect my fury.