Chapter 63 – Rowan
ROWAN
Despite the victory, the overall mood amongst the Kovari soldiers is somber. There had been so much death and destruction, not to mention a few of the fae raiders had managed to evade them and currently walk free.
But even given the mood, after breakfast this morning, something shifted.
I find myself now included in conversations, and even jokes, amongst the men throughout the day. Wyatt or Ayer are never too far off, one of them always watching, but I’ve been allowed to move about the village as I pleased.
I met the villagers, listened to their stories, and stars, it was difficult to hear.
The raid. The bloodshed. The worst part might be how they spoke of it as though it’s not anything out of the ordinary.
And apparently, it’s not. The fae raid their villages relentlessly.
So many lives have been lost—or taken—whole communities destroyed.
Between the raiders and the Sitaran army, these border villages live in constant fear of the fae.
Wyatt and I take a break for lunch, sitting on the edge of the village, near the forest, looking over a group of children playing nearby with an old ball they’d found. We’re nearly half done before I work up the nerve to ask Wyatt the one question that’s been nagging me from the start.
“Why?” I ask, softly.
Wyatt stiffens beside me, knowing what I’m asking him without needing me to elaborate.
He studies me for a moment, as if he’s deciding whether or not I can handle the real answer. He reminds me quite a bit of Theo. Similar build, the same sharp features, but Wyatt’s hair is longer and darker, a rich brown instead of gold. Bright, sapphire blue eyes stare back at me.
“Because they can,” Wyatt finally says with a shrug, going right back to his bread and cheese.
I release a breath, looking back over the village, debating if it’s wise to continue.
My gaze catches on something lying in the dirt, not too far away. Upon closer inspection, I find it’s a singed stuffed bear. It rests atop the remains of what must have been someone’s bed. Fire had burned most of the house around it away.
“How often?” I ask him, remembering the way the villagers spoke of raids like these as if they were an inevitability.
“Too often,” he says and my jaw tightens.
“The raids have only gotten worse over the last few years. Every couple of weeks now, along the border towns. Sometimes more.” He frowns.
“Many of the villages have since been abandoned—or destroyed.” His jaw clenches as he looks around at what’s left of the village in front of us.
I shake my head slowly, trying to process what I’m hearing and everything I’ve seen these last twenty-four hours. “I don’t understand. Sitara should have stepped in to protect—”
“Sitara is the reason for it.” The venom in Wyatt’s voice startles me.
His face softens when he takes in the shocked look on my face. “Sorry. I shouldn’t have—”
“No.” I stop him, shifting to look him in the eye. “No. Tell me what you were going to say.”
There’s a grim expression on his face, but he nods, continuing. “Well, Sitara—Sitara looks the other way. They allow raiders to move freely through fae territory, to their ports.” His eyes flick to me, watching my face cautiously. “Sitara buys most of the slaves the raiders bring in.”
“No,” I gasp—in shock? Surprise? I’m not sure. My first instinct is to slap him—to deny it. There are no slaves in Sitara… But the look on Wyatt’s face… He’s too young to carry this kind of bitterness—this grief—for it to be a lie.
Wyatt just nods in silent confirmation, and my mind goes to the fall of Rosecliff.
Ayer—Kovaria—slaughtered the fae guards but spared all the human servants…
Most of the servants came into service at Rosecliff after losing their homes and families to raids along the borders… I look around at the burned village surrounding me, and a sinking feeling settles in my chest.
After a long while, Wyatt motions for us to wrap up our lunch.
Around us, Ayer’s command has begun readying their horses for our ride back to the fort today.
My stomach tightens at the thought of returning to that gods-awful fort, but I rise and follow him back to the village silently, my mind desperately searching for a way to make sense of all of this.
We’ve nearly reached the village when my question spills out. “But the attacks—the humans—Kovaria. They attack the fae too?” I recall all the talk of Kovarian raids along the fae border within the court.
Confusion crosses Wyatt’s face, and his head tilts slightly to the side as he stops to think about what I’ve asked. “What attacks?”
“Like the one on Rosecliff,” I insist, my words coming quickly, needing justification for my kingdom’s actions. “The humans…” My eyes meet Wyatt’s. “You guys…” I correct. “You attack the fae border villages all the time too… Don’t you?” My voice fades out on the question.
Wyatt lets out a long breath before resting a hand lightly on my shoulder.
“Princess,” he says, his voice gentle as he waves an arm back to the village at his back. “Look around. These villages barely have two broomsticks and an axe to cobble together for their own defense. What makes you think they’re out here carrying out raids on fae lands?
His words ring true. Even the destruction couldn’t mask the overall state the village had been in before the raiders attacked. The villagers are thin, their homes and buildings patched together; these people hardly had anything to begin with.
And now they have even less.
The ride back to the fort is nothing like the chaotic adrenaline rush the ride to the village was.
A tense silence settles between Ayer and me almost as soon as we set out.
The Kovari soldiers leave a few men behind for protection since a few of the raiders managed to slip away. They leave food and weapons, along with a promise to send more once we return to the fort.
By the time we ride away, my entire understanding of the world feels fractured.
I’ve seen so little of it myself—so little of Sitara, even, if I’m being honest. Between the palace in the capital and Rosecliff, I’d hardly been anywhere else. Instead, I had relied upon reports from trusted advisors and my own father, and of course the never-ending supply of court gossip.
And given what I know about court gossip…
Stars, could the court stories about the raiders be just as ludicrous as all the other stories? I feel dumb having to even question it.
Come to think of it, Fel hadn’t mentioned much about raids from Daekhar or Kovaria. I’d barely seen him since he’d been called up to his unit, but he seemed different since he left. Distant—haunted even. I hadn’t paid too much attention, admittedly too preoccupied trying to escape my own fate.
At the time, I never questioned it.
I never questioned any of it.
I ride in the saddle with Ayer, though the captain says very little, as if sensing I need the quiet to untangle the web of lies inside my head.
Hours pass before the fort finally comes into view, and we both stiffen at the sight of it.
Immediately, my senses sharpen.
The fort is busier than when we’d left it.
There are more men in black armour—the same as what Ayer’s men wear—moving about the courtyard. But I don’t recognize the soldiers, and I thought we didn’t leave any behind. Their posture is stiffer, I notice as we pass them, more rigid than Ayer’s men.
Ayer squeezes his legs around Dash’s middle, urging him forward until we catch up to Theo’s bay. The two exchange a grim look as I watch on silently.
Something is happening.
The moment we reach the stairs, one of the unfamiliar soldiers approaches.
“My Lord. Captain.” He gives them each a clipped nod before his gaze slides over me.
Ayer dismounts the horse first before helping me down. The second my boots hit the ground, he shifts me subtly behind him before facing the soldier fully.
“Charlton,” Theo greets smoothly.
The change in the prince’s demeanor is immediate. I almost don’t recognize the stoic and solemn man standing beside us; even the tone of his voice is different. There’s an air of authority in it, one I haven’t heard him use with Ayer, or even any of his own men.
“What can we do for you?”
Charlton’s eyes linger on me briefly before returning to Theo.
“The queen wishes to have a word with both you and the captain.”
I notice how his tone sticks on Ayer’s title.
“Of course,” Ayer replies calmly, though I’m sensing anything but calm rolling off the two of them right now. “Give us a few hours to freshen up from the road, and we would be glad to join her for dinner.”
Charlton clears his throat. “She’ll speak with you now. You have half an hour before she comes to call for you in your chambers, Captain.”
A flicker of irritation crosses Ayer’s face so quickly I almost miss it. Still, he nods sharply. “As the queen wishes.” He steps forward, grabbing my arm to bring me with him as he brushes by Charlton, moving with purpose.
Once we’re inside and out of sight, he quickens his pace further. Theo keeps up with us as we move quickly down the hall.
“What’s going on?” I demand, seeing as he’s about to wrench my arm out of its socket. His legs are so much longer than mine, I’m having to run to keep up with him.
“Not here,” Ayer mutters, his eyes scanning the corridor as if he expects danger to leap out of every shadow.
We reach his chambers, finding Ana, Ayer’s chambermaid, waiting outside, anxiously wringing her hands. Ayer pushes me inside before speaking rapidly to Ana. She nods, scurrying back down the hall.
Ayer mutters out a few select curses, then checks the hall once more before he shuts the door.
Theo moves to lean against the wall near the door, one hand resting on his sword while he and Ayer exchange a long gaze. A silent communication echoes between them, my anger flaring at being kept in the dark about whatever is happening.
“Is someone going to tell me what is going on?” I snap. My words bite harder than intended, but my irritation is barely a mask for the growing anxiety at what could have both Theo and Ayer on edge like this.
Ayer looks at me, finally, and there’s an odd expression on his face I don’t recognize.
Calculation? Tension? Something like reluctance?
But before he can reply, Ana barges back through the door.
She thrusts a small bundle into Ayer’s hands, which he takes from her with a quiet nod.
Ana gives a quick bow, her eyes lingering on me for a minute before she once again takes her leave.
The moment she exits, he turns toward me fully.
“The queen is here.”
I frown, confused about their reaction to the news. “Who?” I look over at Theo. “His mother?”
“No.” Ayer’s mouth tightens as he exchanges a look with his friend. “The Queen of Daekhar.”
I freeze, and ice slides through my veins. No. No, that’s impossible… Carefully, I search Ayer’s face for any sign that this is the moment he decided to develop a sense of humor, and this is all just a cruel joke.
But Ayer only watches me with sharp concentration, already likely thinking ten steps ahead.
My throat goes dry.
“The—the Demon Queen? What? Why?” The words stumble out, as I fight through the rising fear seizing hold of my mind, every muscle in my body going rigid.
Theo shifts beside me. “My father married her.”
I can only stare at him.
Married her?
My brain works hard to process what I’m hearing. The King of Kovaria—Theo’s father—has taken the Demon Queen of Daekhar as his wife? Which makes her…
I look up at Theo. “Your—” I take a deep breath. “Your stepmother?”