Chapter 4
Sebastian
I stumble forward as I’m thrown into a cell, my hands slamming against the rough stone wall as I catch myself. The door clangs shut behind me.
“A king?” There’s a snort. “I think not.” Most of the guards walk away. One or two take up vigil outside the cage door.
I stand there for a moment, my palms pressed against the cold stone, trying to catch my breath. My chest still tingles a little where the marking appeared. I lift one hand and touch it, feeling the warmth beneath my torn tunic.
It’s real.
My marking is real.
I’m not who I thought I was.
My whole life is one big lie.
I look at the texture of the stone against my palm. I can see. My name is not Baldwin. I’m not a human. I’m not a simple clerk. Nothing about my life is simple…
I can see.
I’m a king.
No, that isn’t true. I was a king.
I turn and slide down the wall until I’m sitting on the floor.
I look around at my cell, which is dark and windowless and dreary, taking it all in with awe.
There’s a bucket in one corner that – thank Kakara – is empty.
I stare at everything with wonder. Even the gray threadbare blanket in the corner.
I keep looking around me, taking in every detail.
I can see.
A rat squeaks, and I see the creature scurry across the floor from one small hole to the next.
My mouth twitches.
“Is it true that the king is in that cell?” a male asks.
I lift my head toward the door.
“No,” a guard says. “Just because it looks like him doesn’t make it so.”
“Can I see for myself?”
There is a grunt of agreement, followed by a sigh.
A guard I haven’t seen before peers at me through the bars. His eyes narrow. “It looks like him,” he says as he walks a few steps down the hall and out of my line of vision.
Vision.
“You’re going to be in so much trouble if it is him.”
“It isn’t. It’s black magic.”
“You saw the marking,” another responds. “That’s the mark of the Shadowfae King. It’s an eclipse. And his eyes… Look at his eyes. It has to be him.”
“What of his eyes? It’s trickery, is what it is.” The first guard’s voice is harsh.
“But what if it’s real? What if he’s actually—?”
“Don’t be a fool,” the guard cuts him off.
“There have been rumors of the Lost Kings returning, but I don’t believe a word.
Where are they, then? Why haven’t we seen one?
It’s nonsense. This is dark, terrible magic.
He’s probably working with that performer.
They’re both up to no good. You’ll see that I’m right. Just you wait.”
“I hope so, or you will be in big trouble. You might end up being the one who is locked up.”
“Let’s just say that he is our lost king.
That the male inside that cell is Sebastian.
Where has he been? Why did he leave us to her?
I think it would be better if he were a sorcerer.
Queen Snow will want him under lock and key.
She’ll string him up, and I, for one, would cheer her on.
Take up your position at the entrance with the others.
The orders have come all the way from the top.
I’m just following them, as you should too. ”
“Yes, sir.” The guard who looked in on me walks away.
I close my eyes, leaning my head back against the stone.
I sit like that for a while, trying to decide what to do next.
I could use my magic to break free… And then what?
This place is crawling with guards. I need to bide my time.
I’ll find an opening. It would help if I had a friend in my corner. Only one person comes to mind.
“I need to speak with General Belen,” I call out. “Perhaps he is the Ruler General by now. Please bring Belen.”
I appointed the general, and we got along well. In many ways, he was like a father to me. He will know it’s me. More importantly, he will know that I would never abandon my people. That I would never willingly leave my post. All I need is a few moments alone with him.
The guard appears at the barred opening; his face is hard. “Keep your mouth shut, prisoner.”
“I need to—”
“Tell someone who cares.” His eyes are filled with contempt. “I can see right through you. It won’t be long before it’s proven. Now be silent, or you’ll regret it.”
I bite back the words on my tongue. The guard stares at me for a moment longer, then disappears from view.
I wait, my mind racing.
How did this happen?
How does a person forget their entire life? How does someone wake up one day with no memory of who they are?
Black magic. The guards were right about that much.
It was Snow.
It had to be. She did this to me. She made me forget. Gave me new memories. False ones. A whole false life.
She made me blind. My throat tightens. She took everything from me and then hid me in plain sight. Right here in my own damned court.
It’s brilliant, in a horrifying way.
I think of all the summers I spent working in that records chamber, transcribing her quotas, helping her track which fae were meeting her demands and which were failing.
I helped her.
I’ve been helping her oppress my own people. Helping her send fae to the mines, to the fighting pits. To their deaths.
I didn’t have a choice. None of us has any say under her rule.
The anger builds in my chest, hot and fierce. She took everything from me. My sight. My memories. My kingdom. My very identity.
She took everything from my people. From fae and human alike.
I think back to all those moments when I could write. Yes, I needed the brass plate to guide my pen, but I could form letters. I could create characters on a page. I always thought it was some kind of miracle that I’d developed the skill despite never having seen a letter in my life.
Now I know the truth.
I could write because I was once sighted.
Of course I could. I’d written countless documents before she cursed me. The muscle memory was still there, buried deep. My hands remembered even if my mind didn’t.
And those moments when I could almost see. When exceptional music would paint pictures in my mind. Colors I shouldn’t know. Images of things I’d never witnessed.
I wasn’t imagining it.
I could see those things because I had seen them before. They were memories, trying to break through the spell that held them captive.
My thoughts shift to the woman, to the performer with the beautiful voice.
There was a moment when we were connected – for just a second – I felt her pain, mixed with shame.
Why does she feel shame? I also felt hope, together with fear, and such loneliness that it makes me grit my teeth just recalling it.
I felt her emotions for a few beats of my heart through the haze of the blinding pain.
I know I did.
I lean forward, resting my elbows on my knees. I can still hear her singing in my mind. That pure, powerful voice that made something inside me crack open.
Her big, fearful eyes. The way she looked at me when the guards dragged us both away.
It was magic.
A surge of power that came from her, washing over me like a wave. Her voice and her magic combined, breaking through the spell that held me captive.
How?
She seemed just as shocked as I was. More shocked, even. Like she had no idea what was happening.
I thought she was human. She looked human. But humans don’t have magic. She does, that much I know for certain.
Perhaps she’s a witch.
That would explain it. Witches can disguise themselves.
But why would she help me? Did she even mean to help me, or was it an accident? Some kind of unintended consequence of her performance, perhaps?
Somehow, that rings true.
I don’t like that she is locked up down here. That she might be punished for helping me. I’m sure she will be.
The thought gnaws at me. She doesn’t deserve this. Even if she didn’t mean to break the spell, she gave me back my life.
What will become of her?
If they think she’s practicing black magic, working with a supposed sorcerer…she is done for.
Someone clears their throat.
I freeze.
I turn toward the barred opening in the door. A face appears there, partially obscured by shadow.
I know that face.
“Belen,” I say.
He looks a little older. There are crow’s feet at the corners of his eyes that weren’t there before.
“Open the door,” he instructs someone I can’t see.
“Sir, I have orders to—” a guard starts to protest.
“I said to open it. Do it now!” Belen’s voice is steel.
There’s a pause. Then the sound of a key turning in a lock. The door swings open, and Belen steps inside.
The guard hovers in the doorway. “General, I don’t think—”
“Give us space. Go!” Belen doesn’t even look at him.
The guard shifts his weight, clearly uncomfortable. “My orders were to—”
“I outrank whoever gave you those orders.” Belen turns to face him now.
“They came from the Ruler General, my Lord.”
“I insist. I will go and clear it up with her straight after this,” he says, in a deep voice. Even I can feel the weight of his stare.
“Yes, my Lord.” The male bows his head for a moment.
“Leave now. I want a moment alone with the prisoner.”
The guard swallows hard and backs away. “Yes, sir.”
I stand.
Belen waits until the footsteps fade, then he lifts his hands. Shadows pour from him like water, flowing across the floor and up the walls. They swirl around us, creating a cocoon that blocks out everything beyond.
For a long moment, Belen says nothing. He just stares at me, his eyes moving over my face as if he’s trying to memorize every detail.
“Is it really you?” he finally says.
“Yes.” I nod. “When we first met, it was to interview you for the position as general. The first thing I asked you was why you never married.” I smile. “You told me that you were married…just not to a woman, but to the job…to serving the people of this court.”
His jaw tightens, and he huffs out a breath. “Your Majesty.” His voice cracks on the last word. He drops to one knee before me, his head bowing. “I had hoped and prayed to Kakara herself that this day would come. Welcome back, my King.”
My throat tightens.