61. Chapter Sixty-One
One week later, I’d received word Julius was finally being transported to the Winter Court.
The cities were calm—for now—but my soldiers were on high-alert for any sign of mutiny. There hadn’t been any captured assassins yet, but I knew they were there. It was like a ghost looming over me, threatening me with nothing but its legend and mystery.
Now, though, while we awaited his arrival tomorrow afternoon, we celebrated. I’d invited my most trusted soldiers to celebrate our victory. It was one that was not finished—not yet, at least—but we’d secured the throne.
For now.
And that was a feat I’d dance to any day.
Casynox and Sapphire, for the first time in weeks, were laughing, dancing, and drinking. There was a certain light to Sapphire’s eyes since she fully recovered from the mayhem she’d been afflicted by, and each time I looked at Aurelie, I knew I had her to thank for it.
Lyra had been quieter than usual. Aurelie was hesitant towards her, and I didn’t blame her. But Casynox had sang her praises, said she was the reason he made it out of the Summer Court alive. If she had earned his trust, despite all she’d done and been through, then she would live another day as a free woman.
I leaned over in my seat, resting a hand over Aurelie’s fingers as they danced across the armrest. “Anxious?” I said quietly. She turned to me, her gaze capturing the glint of my crown that reflected off her eyes before smiling subtly.
“Not more than necessary,” she said. “Just restless.”
I squeezed her hand, stood from my chair, and as the bard’s lute faded, so did the dancing. One by one, they faced me. My focus settled on Casynox and Sapphire, warmth bubbling inside me at the sight of their laughter. For the first time in ages, the essence of normality sweetened the air. It felt good.
“Tonight, we celebrate the return of a fallen king.”
Cheers erupted around the room, and I raised my goblet. Casynox whistled loudly. I smiled, and when they fell quiet once more, I continued.
“We will continue this war for the good of our people. For the good of our realm.”
Another wave of cheers. The soldiers chugged their wine, and the bard plucked his strings with renewed vigor. The soldiers took their partners by the hand, and the room filled with the sound of stomping boots and clapping hands.
“But there is more than just our brief victory. Tonight, we celebrate something much sweeter than blood, sweeter than anything I’d ever laid witness to, my friends.” I turned my head to Aurelie, watching a blush sweep across her cheeks as she met my stare. Much softer than before, directed only to Aurelie, I whispered, “Stand, please.”
She hesitated, but after a moment, she did.
“Aurelie Cane has withstood terrors worse than war,” I said, my voice booming to the back of the room. The hall had grown silent once more, and I lifted my witchling’s hand into the air. “She has faced legends only spoken of in text. Slain people who had once been family. Forgiven those I was unsure were deserving. She, in many ways, is as merciful and kind of a queen as we could ever ask for.”
Her hand trembled in mine. She stared at me, her lips parted, her brows pinched. I could see it on her face: she wanted to respond.
I faced her, hoping the crowds would fade into a forgotten memory. “For two hundred years,” I said, only loud enough for her ears. Those nearest us inched closer. “I clawed to see the light of freedom once more. Through agonizing pain, I fought for what was stripped from me. Now, for two thousand more, I will yield to the power of your warmth, an everlasting star that will always have control over my cold, unworthy heart.”
Her eyes glossed over, and she reached her other hand to cover her mouth.
“And when the stars have bled to darkness,” I uttered, drawing my attention to the skylight to reveal a crimson night sky, “my eternal soul will remain yours to take.”
“As will mine,” she said with a tremble in her voice.
I smiled and brushed my thumb against her cheekbone, feeling the dampness of her tears. I turned my attention back to the crowd, the few who had heard my quiet confession gaping at us with wide eyes. “Aurelie Cane is a halfling blessed by the gods, my friends. But, even more, she will be your queen. My first order as king is to marry the Halfling of Autumn, the mortal girl of Elkyn Kingdom. And then we will be mated, as the gods intended.”
I raised my goblet and listened to the roars of approval. Casynox, notably, was causing the biggest scene. It was hard not to laugh.
“To love, freedom, and war.”
They chanted it back before swinging into dance once more.
Aurelie wrapped her arms around me in an embrace. “That was the sweetest thing you’ve ever said,” she whispered. I smirked, brushing a strand of hair behind her pointed ear.
”“I’ll have to try harder, then,” I said and sat back down. She followed, her hand never leaving mine. She drew the glass of fae wine to her lips and watched the others dance. Throughout the course of the night, Casynox would bring some of the soldiers who wished to bestow gifts in our honor. I was not the sort of king to demand tithes, but I’d never turn down a gift. Most of them were jewels, heirlooms, and keepsakes reminiscent of our shared victories.
Mostly, they were for me.
But as the celebrations grew sloppy, and the alcohol made even the best of dancers trip over their feet, a man approached. Aurelie was letting the wine get to her, her body swaying in the seat to the music’s thrumming. She hardly acknowledged him as he bowed his head.
“My King and his betrothed,” he said, a curl to his accent. “Congratulations, and to many years of happiness.”
I narrowed my gaze but raised my goblet in a way of greeting. “What is your name?”
“Sid.” He lifted his chin. “I served on the fleet of rebels that hailed from Autumn Court, Your Majesty. The few and far between.”
“Ah. How are your sea legs?” I asked. I knew little about the Autumn Court beyond Jeniathan’s toxic reign, but sailing was a common profession. Piracy too.
“I’d hope they’re good enough. I grew up a pirate, after all.”
Aurelie turned her attention to him, her eyes slightly glossy and her movements slow. “A pirate turned soldier?” she questioned. Sid’s eyes fluttered to her, a smirk pulling the scar on his cheek taut.
“I have always been a soldier, Aurelie Cane,” he said. “For the rebellion, and for the greater good of the kingdom. Now, though, I fight for you.”
A small smile tugged at her lips. Sid bowed once more before revealing a box from his back. “I would like to bestow a gift, this one for our queen.”
My eyebrows furrowed. Not many knew who Aurelie was, save for the dozens of soldiers who lived in the rebel camps closest to Magyn Manor. Word traveled fast, but something didn’t sit right in my gut. “How kind,” I said as I sipped at my drink. “Has the gift gone through the proper channels of approval?”
My eyes flitted toward Casynox. He was no longer with Sapphire. Instead, he’d taken up with one of the healers. They were in the corner, his fingers tangled in her hair, his nose nuzzled against her neck. I waved him over.
“I apologize, King.” Sid lowered the box, his eyes never leaving my own. “It has. I had assumed the general already gave word.”
“I would like to know for myself.”
Sid’s jaw tightened, and he glanced toward Aurelie before nodding. He stepped closer, placing the box into her lap. “For my queen,” he hissed before he stumbled back. Casynox hadn’t made it even halfway over before Sid hobbled out of the room. I stood, ready to holler for his arrest in response to merely touching her.
“No,” she murmured as her fingers ran across the top. “He didn’t harm me, and he didn’t hurt anyone.”
“That doesn’t give him the right—”
“Please, Eero,” she pleaded. I clenched my jaw and sat back down, my leg bouncing as my fingers tightened on the stem of the goblet. My heart ached at the sound of her begging.
Aurelie opened the lid slowly, and I peered over her shoulder. “Casynox, who is Sid?” I asked as she started to untie a bow that held the cloth inside together.
“Sid?” he repeated.
I furrowed my brow, glancing at him from the side. “Sid...yes. From the Autumn Court rebellion fleet.”
Casynox scratched the back of his neck. “Don’t think I know him,” he said. “But I don’t know a large number of them.”
Aurelie had pulled away the fabric. Inside, there were two items.
As the color drained from her face, I leaned over to see what was inside the gift. My face fell, and I jumped to my feet. “Get that fucking little prick,” I hollered, pointing at the door. “I want him in the dungeon. Do not let him free.”
I snatched the box from Aurelie’s frozen hands, her eyes wide, lips parted in disgust. It looked like she was going to keel over and vomit. I stared at the contents of the box before slamming it shut.
In it was a single eyeball riddled by starlight, and a strand of brown hair.
On the note was a very simple threat.
An eye for an eye—until we meet again, Aurelie.