A Crown Splendid and Shattered (Age of Fae Romantasy #3)

Chapter 1

The Vilest Villain Who Ever Lived

Raewyn

My first glimpse of the afterlife was even better than I could have anticipated.

One moment I was standing at the gallows in the arena of Castle Seaspire, and the next I opened my eyes to see a luxurious room, appointed in richly colored silks and elegantly carved furniture.

Vases of fragrant fresh flowers filled the room with their sweet scent and delicate beauty. Just outside the large window to my left, hummingbirds danced and darted, feasting on nectar provided by the flowering vines that surrounded it.

Warm sunlight streamed inside the room and shone through crystal candlesticks, casting miniature rainbows on the walls and the gorgeous hand-painted ceiling mural.

It depicted fluffy white clouds on a backdrop of azure sky. Parts of it were shaded pink and purple by a setting sun.

My bed was like a cloud itself, and its coverings appeared to be made of the finest silk and decorated with tiny sparkling jewels.

Drawing my arms from beneath it, I lifted them in front of me and saw I was dressed in a beautiful nightgown. The fabric was so soft and light, it felt almost like wearing nothing, yet I was warm and comfortable.

Heaven indeed.

It was all something of a surprise. I had thought at first that my eternity would be spent in quite the opposite place, the Land Without Stars.

Though I hoped I’d lived a good life and had prayed for mercy in my final moments after the hangman dropped a dark hood over my head, the very next instant had been filled with screams, a blast of immense heat, the acrid smells of smoke and rendered flesh—and pain.

So much pain.

The definition of Hell itself.

Even now when I pushed myself to a sitting position, I felt dull remnants of those excruciating sensations—something sharp piercing my flesh, my bones being crushed in a giant creature’s punishing grip.

Which was strange. If I was in the great hereafter receiving my blessed eternal reward, why would I feel echoes of agony?

It was not what our village vicar had promised about the heavenly realm.

In fact, when I attempted to move my legs and get out of bed, the dull pain flashed to sharp new life and prevented it.

Still, it wasn’t unrelenting agony.

There was no terror here. There was no hellfire and brimstone.

Instead, I was surrounded by unimaginable beauty and luxury. I was safe.

I was still alive.

So this was not Heaven nor Hell. But where was I?

Based on my limited view from the window, I was high up. An upper room in a palace?

If I leaned forward and stretched my neck, I could catch a glimpse of green lawn below with immaculate landscaping, trees and shrubs.

And I thought I could hear seagulls and the distant roar of the ocean.

Was this Seaspire then?

Had Stellon intervened at the last second and stopped the execution?

A rush of warmth filled me at the realization that he had come through for me after all and had somehow managed to save my life.

Immediately afterward, I worried about what kind of bargain he must have had to strike to do so.

My final memory of the Randalin brothers was Stellon’s distraught face—and Pharis’ detached, smug expression as he stood on the royal family’s viewing platform, casually waiting to watch me hang to death.

After all the things he’d said to me during our “romantic” picnic beside the waterfall in Havendor, after his passionate pleas and declarations—and the way he’d kissed and touched me—I’d found out in the cruelest manner he’d never meant a word of it.

His interest in me and concern for my well-being was all a lie. He was oh so good at those.

Pharis had betrayed me and his brother, currying favor with their evil father and apparently not caring at all if the price of ingratiating himself to the King was breaking Stellon’s heart and ending my “mere human” life.

My greatest hope, beyond seeing Stellon soon, was that I’d never lay eyes on Pharis Randalin again.

The door opened, and a woman I’d never seen before entered the room.

She was middle-aged with dark hair that was wrapped up in a bun on the back of her head. Judging from her height, she was most likely Elven.

When she spotted me sitting up in bed, her eyelids flew wide.

“Oh, you’re awake,” she said then slapped a hand over her mouth, turned and fled the room.

Minutes later, a much younger woman around my age appeared holding a tray of food. She didn’t speak but beamed at me, coming to the bedside and placing the tray atop the coverlet beside me.

“Thank you,” I said. “What is your name? Can you tell me where I am and how I got here?”

The girl didn’t answer, just nodded toward the tray and pushed it a little closer to me before turning and scurrying from the room, shutting the door behind her.

Okay then…

If I’d had any lingering doubt about whether I was still in this world or the next, it disappeared when I smelled the food. My stomach let out a long, loud growl, and I experienced a very mortal sensation—intense hunger.

Just how long had I been asleep?

Hurriedly, I picked up a buttered roll from the plate and jammed it into my mouth.

The flavor burst across my tongue, driving my hunger to even greater levels. I devoured the various meats and fruits and several more rolls.

Within minutes I’d cleaned the plate.

Once the hollowness of my belly had been alleviated, I turned my attention to the teapot and cup that had been delivered along with the food. Then I drained the full water goblet provided to me—it was not ordinary well water but saol water.

Whomever my host was, he or she was definitely Elven.

It had to be Stellon. The tray had contained all of my favorite foods, and my room was decorated to perfection, down to my favorite flowers.

Only he would be so kind and gracious a host, and only he would care enough to snatch me from the jaws of death and deliver me to heaven on earth.

How long would I have to wait to see him?

Now that my hunger and thirst were appeased, I was impatient to get out of bed and go find him, to thank him for saving my life. Would I find the door to my room locked, as it was when he’d hidden me from his father at the palace?

Trying again to swing my legs to the side of the bed, I winced and let out a gasp then collapsed back to my pillow.

The pain of movement was too great. Besides, the effort of sitting up and eating had apparently been a strain. I felt exhausted already, though I’d been awake no more than an hour.

Closing my eyes, I smiled and let myself relax. I was full, safe, and warm.

My mind’s eye filled with visions of Stellon, smiling, handsome, kind and brave. Soon I would see my savior, my true love, in person.

I drifted in and out of sleep throughout the day.

That night (at least I thought it was that night and not another), the young servant returned with more food and more smiles.

Again I attempted to converse with her. “Hello. I’m Raewyn,” I said as she set the bed tray in front of me.

She simply smiled and nodded but didn’t offer her own name. As before, she turned to leave the room.

“Wait. Please,” I said.

The girl turned back to face me. So she could hear me.

Perhaps she was unable to speak.

Perhaps she just didn’t want to.

“If you are able, please tell me where I am,” I said. “I don’t remember arriving here. I don’t recognize this room. Do you know what happened to me? Am I at Castle Seaspire?”

She shook her head side to side, then her eyes went round, as if she’d made a mistake.

The girl held up a finger in the universal gesture for just a minute then turned again and dashed away, leaving the door open this time.

Minutes later, I heard the sound of heavy footsteps coming down the hall.

Stellon.

My heart picked up speed, and my breath quickened in anticipation of seeing him.

The Fae prince entered the room. But it wasn’t Stellon.

It was Pharis.

And he had the nerve to smile.

“They told me you were awake. How are you feeling?”

In answer to his question, I lifted the heavy water goblet from my tray and hurled it at his head.

Quick as ever, he ducked to the side, and the glass smashed against the wall behind him.

Pharis let out a surprised laugh. “I see your strength is returning. Good thing that wasn’t a dagger. It’s me, Wildcat.”

“I know it’s you,” I said. “That’s why I threw it.”

Grabbing the sharp steak knife from its spot beside my plate, I drew my arm back again. Before I could throw it, the blade flew from my hand off to the side where it embedded itself into an intricately woven wall tapestry.

I whipped my eyes from the apparently enchanted knife back to Pharis’ face.

“I have acquired a whole list of new glamours since we last saw one another,” he explained. “There isn’t a thing you could do to hurt me.”

He approached the bed and dropped into the chair beside it, looking very relaxed.

“Although, I’m not sure why you’d want to scar this perfect face. Some thanks I get for saving you from the gallows.”

“You saved me,” I said, shock dousing my anger and turning it into disbelief.

His tone was amused. “Do you not remember the three-ton dragon that swooped in and carried you off to safety?”

I gasped. “That was real? I thought I dreamed it. I had nightmares of flying high above the earth in the grip of a monster.”

“It was real,” he said. “And it was under my control.”

There was a pause before he added, “You’re welcome.”

It took me a few moments to process this new information. I had countless questions about how such a thing was possible, but a more important question pushed its way to the forefront.

“But why?” I asked. “You don’t care about me. You told your father about my role in the assassination plot. You lied to me and seduced me to win my trust. You suggested a public execution. All to gain favor with the King and empower yourself.”

Even thinking about it now mortified me. I’d actually believed Pharis when he suggested we run away together and travel the world, when he said he had to have me and hadn’t kissed or even thought of another woman since meeting me at the ball.

The infamous Prince of Tears had said a lot of things during our long road trip together and during that brief moment of bliss when I’d thought perhaps he loved me and had chosen me above all else.

But there was so much Pharis hadn’t told me—that I was half-Elven, that Stellon’s wedding to Lady Glenna had been called off. That his brother still loved me and was searching for me.

That he was the Prince of Lies.

“Why not just let me die at the gallows?” I asked. “You were almost rid of me. You had everything you wanted.”

Pharis’ teeth flashed in a mischievous grin. “I wouldn’t say everything. I had my reasons… which I’ll share if and when it suits me.”

I knew those reasons, whatever they were, had nothing to do with actual concern for my well-being. Pharis had proved beyond question that he didn’t care about anyone but himself.

But I was getting a strange feeling.

I’d experienced it throughout my life, an odd tickling in my brain that was always followed by a certain knowing about people, in particular about their fears.

Now that I knew the truth about my heritage, I suspected it might be my glamour gift, inherited from my mother’s side of the family tree. The Elven side.

At the moment, that knowing was telling me something about Pharis and these mysterious “reasons” he refused to share.

“You’re afraid for me to know the truth,” I said. “Why? What dastardly plan do you have up your sleeve now?”

One dark eyebrow raised in apparent amusement. “Dastardly? So you’ve cast me as the villain, have you?”

“Aren’t you one?” I shot back at him. “How else can I see things? You betrayed me. You betrayed your brother, who loved and trusted you. All so you could take his place as the heir to the throne. Was it worth it? I suppose you achieved your goal and found favor with the King. Is there a throne downstairs now for you, right next to your father’s? ”

“Smart girl.” Pharis grinned. “You have it all figured out, don’t you?”

He was so smug, so arrogant. Just like he used to be before Stellon asked him to take me away from the palace and keep me safe.

Before we’d gotten to know each other and had developed what had felt—to me—like friendship.

And something more.

Stupid girl was more accurate.

I’d been far too susceptible to his charms back then. No more.

Now I knew the depth of the darkness lurking beneath that beautiful surface of his.

“And how exactly did I get into this gown?” I demanded. “Did you take off my clothes while I was asleep?”

Pharis huffed a laugh. “Yes, Raewyn, I’m the vilest villain who ever lived. I undressed a mortally injured unconscious girl and ravished her.”

Sarcasm dripped from his words. So maybe it had been a ridiculous question. But he was still no hero.

“Speaking of that, how long was I unconscious? And is the King no longer after me? Or are you hiding me in your room at Seaspire now?”

Pharis hesitated before answering my questions but finally spoke. His tone changed, becoming grim.

“It’s been three months since that morning in the arena.”

“Three months? How could I have slept for three months?”

Holding out my arms, I looked for signs of emaciation, but my wrists and forearms appeared just as they had on the last day I could remember.

Surely if I’d actually been unconscious that long, I would have starved or dehydrated and died.

“There’s a healer here,” Pharis said. “She kept you alive while you… rested. And contrary to your assumptions, we’re not in the royal city.”

“Where are we then?”

I sat up again abruptly, trying to get a better view out the window, but winced and sucked in a breath as the pain flared.

Pharis’ expression changed instantly. He leapt from his chair, coming to the bedside and whipping the covers off of me.

“What’s the matter? Are you not healed?”

“What do you care?” I challenged as I hurriedly pushed down the nightgown that was bunched immodestly around my thighs, leaving far too much skin exposed.

When I shot a glare up at Pharis, I was surprised to see the troubled look on his face at the sight of my bruised and scarred legs.

Had he not considered the possibility that I might be injured when concocting his scheme to spirit me away for whatever despicable purpose he might have in mind?

He spun on his heel and headed for the door, calling back over his shoulder in a strange, dead-sounding voice.

“I’ll send in the healer.”