Chapter 19 #3
I tracked back up the page, reading the record of the attack on the Summer Queen and heir, paying more attention to it this time and reading further, not skipping ahead as I had before.
And noticed something.
Sylvan had been the sole survivor of that attack—the only witness—and he had been the one to carry out the attack on Belkarthen.
“You look upset.” Meiryn returned to me and took the book from me, reading what I had.
“I’m just surprised Sylvan was so involved in what happened to the queen and the heir, and the aftermath. No wonder there’s such bad blood between the Summer Court and Shadow Court.” I glossed over it all with a smile, acting as expected, pretending to be surprised by what I had read.
I was surprised by some of it, anyway.
“Sylvan acted as our father’s general and has always been dedicated to protecting his family.” Meiryn set the book on the bedclothes and gave a half-shrug. “He acts as general even now.”
Family. Of course. I kept forgetting that according to Meiryn, Sylvan was our father’s cousin.
I flipped back to the front of the book and the family tree, tracing the swirling branches to our father and upwards to his mother, and then across to her brother who had been born a few decades later, and then down to Sylvan.
Cousin of Sylas.
Cold snaked down my spine as I looked at their names, so close together, and then their parents, born only decades apart, and it struck me that if their grandfather hadn’t changed the laws of succession that Sylvan would have been king.
Sylvan should have been king.
And Sylas’s sole heir and queen had been killed, murdered by Shadow Court unseelie, and only Sylvan had survived.
Only he had witnessed it.
The knock at the door made me jump out of my skin.
It opened to reveal Sylvan looking resplendent in a white tunic jacket with embroidery and buttons that matched his golden trousers. His long hair fell in a sleek ponytail over his right shoulder, his sapphire eyes as bright as the sky outside as he smiled at me.
“You are looking much better.” He stepped into the room, his hand coming to rest on the pommel of the sword that hung from his waist.
“I’m feeling better. I’m definitely ready to leave my bed and this room.” I smiled back at him, mine as practiced as his own.
A perfect lie.
“I am glad to hear that. I came to see if you were feeling strong enough to attend to court business today, and here you are, as bright as a flower.” His smile held even as his gaze lowered to the leather journals on my lap, some of the light in his eyes fading, revealing the truth to me despite his mask.
He didn’t like that I was looking at Sylas’s journals again.
“There’s something else I want to deal with today.
” I shooed Meiryn from my bed and shuffled to that side with as much grace as I could muster, and she handed me my robe.
I thanked her with a genuine smile and put it on, tying it tightly around my waist to conceal my nightdress.
My legs were still a touch unsteady as I pushed to my feet, but I didn’t let them see that lingering weakness I hadn’t quite managed to shake yet as I turned to face Sylvan.
“I want to go to a fae town near Whistler, one my father visited. He was meeting witches, and this one in particular is close to my pack lands. I think perhaps she helped Sylas sire me.”
Sylvan didn’t hide his frown now. “I do not think that is wise. There are many dangers beyond the borders of this court, and the mortal realm is filled with them.”
He held his hand out to me, and I knew he wasn’t offering it for support.
“I’m still reading them,” I said brightly, challenging him to order me to hand them over, to say that he wasn’t happy that I was back in my father’s journals, digging through them for the truth about this court and the ruling line.
“I also mean to read more of them as soon as I can find time to go to the library.”
He really didn’t look happy about that. “His journals are mostly filled with reports about the kingdom and court business.”
The same thing he had told me before, trying to convince me not to read them, pretending they were worthless when I had already learned so much from them. What other secrets and information would the others give up if I read them?
“This one isn’t.” I picked up the books. “It mentions many visits to the fae towns in the mortal realm, and how he was seeking out witches in them. I want to visit the one near my pack lands, so I can get some answers.”
He said nothing in response to that.
I pressed forwards, watching him closely, gauging his reaction and studying his body language. “There are gaps between the dates of several entries. Did he keep different journals for different subjects?”
“Unfortunately, no.” He linked his hands behind his back, his shoulders relaxing as he smiled again.
“Your father’s records are incomplete. He frequently found himself too busy to write, or was unable to keep up with the practice when he was away from the castle.
There are whole years where there is not a single record written by him. ”
How convenient.
I told myself not to be cynical, but it was hard given what I had read about him.
Lorien wasn’t the only one I needed to watch my back around. My wolf instincts snarled that at me. Lorien wasn’t the only one who had lost a claim to a throne.
“How quickly can we leave for the fae town?” I dropped the journals onto the bed. “I can be ready within the hour.”
That smile faltered again. “As I have said, you are vulnerable beyond the borders of this court—”
“I’m not some weak little female in need of constant protection,” I snapped, cutting him off, planting my hands on my hips as I stared him down, “as you’re well aware since you let Lorien challenge me.
I survived close to one hundred years in the mortal realm, I know it better than you do…
and I wasn’t asking for permission. I’m going whether you go with me or not. I am heir.”
He regally bowed his head. “Of course. Allow me a few days to prepare a suitable entourage for you, my lady, and if you could give me the journals so I can check the entries, I would be most grateful.”
I had the feeling that if I handed them over, he would probably lose them or they would go missing somehow.
I must have done a poor job of hiding my feelings on the matter, because he held his hand out to me again, his tone firmer.
“I need the location of this fae town before we leave this court. I will not have you and my men aimlessly wandering around foreign territory, vulnerable to attack. Sylas would have recorded information on them… locations we can use when entering the waygate. If you want to do this, it will be a military operation and the objective will be to get you into and out of the fae town as quickly as possible. Your power as heir presumptive is vast, but my power as steward means I am in charge of this court until an heir comes of age.”
So he was pulling rank on me.
Meiryn gave me a look that warned me not to push him further.
I huffed and picked up the journals. “I want them back when you’re done. I’ve not finished reading them.”
He nodded. “Of course.”
“Three days. You get three days to prepare.”
“More than enough time.” He tucked the journals to his chest and bowed. “I shall make the preparations.”
I glared at his back as he walked away.
Three days.
I wasn’t going to waste them.
I looked at Meiryn.
“Is that offer to teach me how to use magic still on the table?”