33. Chapter Thirty-Three
Ididn’t get a lick of sleep that night.
I stared at the ceiling, Aurelie’s body still intertwined with mine. Every now and then, she’d tremble and whimper, but she didn’t wake for longer than a few seconds at a time. There was no telling what sort of terrors were racing through her mind, but I didn’t need to know. I just needed to be here—and I needed to castrate the bastard Summer King.
And that was showing him mercy.
Eventually, when the sun bled through the sheer white curtains, I kissed the top of Aurelie’s head and stood. After freezing the locking mechanism and snapping it, I closed the door behind me quietly, only the soft click of the handle ringing behind me. I had watched them escort Sapphire into a room two doors down, so I did the same thing. I broke the lock, opened the door, and snapped at Sapphire to wake. She sat up in an instant, something sharp and glistening in her hands aimed at my head. I grinned, sitting on the chair in the corner of the room before dragging my face into my hands.
“What is it?” she said groggily before letting her back collapse back into the pillows. “Are the others here?”
“No, I hope not,” I muttered and let my head rest against the back of the chair. “I need your help, Sapphire.”
“You always do.”
“Ha,” I barked and forced my eyes shut. “No, but I do need your help. It’s Aurelie. I’m stuck, and I don’t know what else I can do to help her.”
Sapphire slowly sat back up and set the makeshift weapon down, her crimson gaze narrowed my way. “What happened? Did you say something stupid again?”
“Again, ha. No. I—well, she’s been petrified about what Sólkon did. Every time she makes strides forward, it hits her again, and she collapses into herself. I fear it’s whatever she saw at the rebel camp.”
Sapphire cleared her throat and swung her legs over the side of the bed and rubbed the sleep from her eyes. “Myrthana has a way about her, that’s for sure.”
“What did you do?” I asked, leaning forward and bracing my forearms against my knees. When Sapphire’s stare met mine again, it was dark, shadowed with guilt. “I know it wasn’t all good, considering your red eyes and silver hair, but what did you do to break the cycle?”
“At first, I didn’t do anything good. I let it consume me, let my rage sharpen, for what Yenira had done. For what Novus was doing. He egged me on too, encouraging me to lose myself to that darkness. But how I broke the cycle?”
Sapphire paused; she brought her nail to her teeth and chewed on it, bouncing her head side to side in thought.
“I freed myself from the toxic space feeding it. Myrthana’s magic is like any other parasite: it’s going to feed on whatever little bits of agony it can. If she can get closure on what happened to her, she can fight it. If she doesn’t, it will win. It’s just the nature of the beast.”
I frowned and let my gaze dip to the wooden floorboards. “Sapphire, I don’t think you understand what will happen to me if she gets hurt.” I sucked in a breath before finding my voice again. “Julius deserves so much pain for the part he played in this, and Sólkon—I, well, I don’t think I’d quite know what I’d do to him if I came across him before Aurelie did.”
“You’d do what we always wanted to do.”
I smirked softly, though there was no joy behind it. “Worse, I fear. It’d be me with the crimson eyes, if that’s even possible.”
Sapphire was laughing beneath her breath. “She’s going to be okay, you know. It might not be today, and probably not tomorrow, but she’s strong. I don’t doubt she’ll find a way away from the parasitic darkness. And, who knows—maybe she’ll get to viciously murder Sólkon, and it will rid her of these demons.”
I closed my eyes and envisioned her—vicious, vengeful, victorious. I wanted her to fight this battle and know that no matter what, she was safe. That whether she was tucked away in an old manor or in the halls of the Winter Court castle, she wouldn’t ever have to face that sort of terror again. I didn’t want to end this fight for her—but if I had to, I would. In a heartbeat.
Aurelie deserved a chance at closure—and revenge.
But every day that passed, I found myself envisioning all the ways I could destroy those who’d failed her. Harmed her. Betrayed her.
Perhaps my witchling was right. Maybe Azalea was the answer to these issues and give her the solace she needed, but I wouldn’t be so quick to trust the woman who divided the realms for the rest of time.
“This is all going to work out. Have faith, keep encouraging her to fight and train, and we can withstand even the most violent tempests.”
I looked at Sapphire. She was my cousin, even though I only knew of her after Novus’ betrothal. She was proof that more than just I—including distant lineage I’d never know—favored human blood as much as they favored fae, despite my father’s hatred of human hearts.
Perhaps the two realms could exist in harmony again, without closed borders and restricted trade, without the stigma of fae versus witch versus human. Maybe the idolization of halfling blood would fade too, and Aurelie truly felt safe again.
My witchling was half-fae, with the heart of a full-blooded mortal, and the power of stars coursing through her veins. Sapphire was right. If anybody could get through this…
If anybody could beat this monster and come out the champion—it was Aurelie Cane.
It rarely surprised me at the speed with which the sorceresses gathered. Today, we were situated on a bench beneath a long table settled on a raised platform. The Elders had already arrived when we entered the room. It was the four reigning monarchs who entered the room last, escorted by their court mages, the Sisters.
Aurelie’s eyes widened at the sight of them. To me, these kings and queens were no more important than the mouths feeding the town criers with their gossip. They were figureheads. Without their loyal subjects and court mages, they’d be nothing.
When Queen Mary of Elkyn Kingdom—without a court mage—entered last, Aurelie’s wide-eyed stare narrowed into slits. She wrapped her fingers around the edge of the bench, the skin turning white, but I let her seethe. That woman was the one responsible for her life being turned upside down. It would be for the better, I knew, but without her judgment and submission to Novus’ blanket threats, Aurelie may have lived another day as a normal mortal girl.
Magic untapped and all.
The Elders all looked the same, situated at the dais with their forearms and palms flat against the table. Still. Unwavering. Unapologetic. These…creatures were of the most powerful breed, their blood so pure that it was said they only procreated within the family line. That each of them held relation to each other, and it would continue until there was no more blood to give.
All five of them—one for each mortal kingdom and one to represent the divided realm of fae—were cloaked with hoods shadowing their faces. Even in darkness, their eyes glistened like gems beneath sunlight. I’d seen only one Elder without their hood—and it was in my dream when death kissed my tongue.
It was beautiful and terrifying and everything in between.
The monarchs had their seats on either side of the elongated dais—two on the left, two on the right, all one step beneath the Elders. The sisters stood behind their respective ruler.
Despite all the history and power in the room, Aurelie had not torn her stare from Queen Mary.
The Elder in the middle dais—the oldest, most powerful Elder Sage—lifted a hand and gestured toward the empty seat. There, the Arcane Mistress should sit—there, it was empty. “We are without lead.”
“Shame,” the other three said in unison, as if they were one mind speaking for many voices. “Queen Mary, has Azalea not received judgment?”
Queen Mary turned her head toward the Elders to her left and cleared her throat. She was pale, and as she worked up the courage to respond, I watched her teeth grind so hard, her jaw flexed. “She is still in Desyn Prison, Elder Sage.”
The King of Greens Kingdom, Elpheme, snorted.
Elder Sage didn’t turn at her words. “Shame.”
“Shame,” the others repeated. Again, in unison. Again, without care. I didn’t look at Aurelie, but I could hear her heart pounding inside her chest, her breath catching in her throat. On the other hand, Sapphire was unfazed. Still, and perhaps a bit bored, but unfazed, nonetheless.
“Which clause of the mortal treaty has been breached?” Elder Sage asked, pushing past the topic at hand. None of them addressed us directly, but this was their way of greeting. I was no longer glamoured. There was nothing concealing my or Sapphire’s fae ears. Her former queen was fuming, by the looks of it. Venalia detested her pointed ears.
If she couldn’t have Yenira, she’d settle for Sapphire. I knew it. Venalia was not known for mercy, and if judgment could not be reaped against those who were criminals, then they’d go after the family.
Blood for blood. Death for death. A finger for stolen fruit. It didn’t matter if Sapphire was a victim—the Venalian Empire would do nothing short of getting vengeance for Yenira’s crimes.
“All of them, by this point,” Elpheme muttered before bracing a closed fist against his chin. “She killed a fae, two mortals have slipped past the barrier in some rebellious act of treason, and—”
“Treason?” Aurelie croaked and snapped her head toward King Elpheme. His jaw clenched at her roaring confidence—at the way she all but defied the very respect he thought he deserved. “Julius was forced into it.”
“And what proof do you have?”
Aurelie’s eyes hardened on the king. “None yet, but I will.”
“Exactly,” King Elpheme hissed. “The fae have gotten what they so desperately desire: blood, servitude, and chaos. Are we expected to sit idly by and let them walk amongst our kingdoms as if the war did not bar them from just that?”
All four monarchs started chatting in response—chiming in their own opinion on the matter and gesturing toward us as if we were inconsequential. As if we couldn’t hear them. So, I stood and faced the only people who truly mattered in this room.
Elder Sage lifted his head just enough that I could see through the shadows and hold that fiery stare. The other Elders were motionless, quiet. “Elder Sage, what if we have proof that the humans have been breaking the treaty long before Aurelie acted in defense against the Underfae? Mind you, no fae king in their right mind would declare war over the death of an Underfae—I trust each of you understand that. And, in turn, understand that King Novus of the Night Court had ulterior motives.”
“It is not his place to speak.”
I slowly turned my head toward the Venalian Queen. She was younger than the rest, hair straight as a pin and lighter than the black-sands of their beaches. Behind those brown eyes was ice colder than the court I once ruled. Venalia loathed the fae unlike any other monarch during the war—and as the generations passed, it had clearly only gotten worse.
“I beg your pardon?” I said with calm anger in my tone, and her thin lips twitched into a smirk. “I was not speaking to you.”
“Yet you are in mortal lands. You should not speak unless spoken to.”
“Oh, bite your tongue,” Sapphire hissed. The Venalian Queen twisted her head at the remark and gaped. “You heard me, Princess Nancelia.”
“It is queen, you ungrateful—”
“I no longer pledge my allegiance to the Venalian Crown, Nancelia. I do not need to give you a title at all.”
“Enough,” each of the Elders roared. Aurelie jolted out of her skin, and Sapphire merely grinned; it even demanded my attention. I often forgot how much Sapphire enjoyed these situations. The more tense, the better. “Elder Fayne.”
I let my eyes drift along each Elder until I found the one at the end, her nails long and colored vermillion red. She stared me down, likely dissecting the weight of my accusation. But we’d seen it firsthand—Calista wasn’t the first to be trapped in that basement, and she wouldn’t be the last. I had no doubt that coalitions existed much crueler than her son—that they spanned across all realms, waiting to strike.
“Have you seen it with your eyes, cursed one?”
I clenched my jaw at the title but nodded. “I nearly died at their hands, but if you want first-hand experience, it was my betrothed who stumbled across a fae chained to the wall…and all her dead counterparts. I don’t know where their murderers found them, but there were at least four skeletons. At least.”
A long moment passed; I could hear each and every thrumming heart in this room. I could smell the sweat that slicked across King Elpheme’s brow, the rapid breathing of Queen Nancelia.
It was Queen Mary who hadn’t batted an eye. She was unfazed.
“Halfling of Autumn Blood,” she said by way of greeting, turning her emerald gaze to Aurelie. “If I may, can I see what you saw?”
Aurelie choked on a gasp. I, too, had stilled, and narrowed my eyes at Elder Fayne. These women were powerful, all but omniscient, but to think she knew of her fae heritage before Aurelie did? I couldn’t say it was impossible—but gods, I wanted to. In my peripheral, I watched my witchling rise when Elder Fayne reached over the width of her table, taloned palm to the ceiling. She approached, and I could do nothing but watch, drag my hands behind my back, and pinch the skin raw. The Elders would never hurt her with their hands or magic—but they could harm her mind. They were cruel in ways not even the immortal fae could comprehend.
But Aurelie accepted her hand. Within seconds, beams of light shot from her eyes, and her freckles turned to specks flitting across her skin like a storm of stars.