Chapter 30 - A Frigid Choice #2
The hair raised on the back of my neck. This was a coup. They’d likely waited for conditions to perfectly align. Biding their time the last six months since the war had ended. Perhaps longer.
“I’ve been trying to kill you for months.” She dug her fingers into my hair, and I closed my eyes, hoping it seemed less like a cringe and more like I savored her touch. “But now I think I’d rather give you an opportunity to redeem yourself.”
I tried to take deep breaths, to drive the rage simmering in my gut from exploding past my skin, but the longer her fingers remained, the harder it became.
“I could convince the others to keep you alive. It would make the cleanup far easier.” She let her fingers linger on the line of my jaw, dragging it to my chin. “To have the support of the frozen prince himself. But the way you’ve treated the thralls in your care—”
“Is regrettable, and was only to keep my father from—”
“That excuse is old and tired, Callan.” She took a step back, waving for the fighters behind me to step forward.
“The uprising has won. We don’t need you.
Most of us don’t want you alive. We know the truth.
This winter blight is your doing.” She tightened her fingers around my throat.
“Your magic is too powerful for this world.”
I would never deny it. She was right. And if I hadn’t just spent five years on the battlefield, I might have already managed to figure out a way to control my magic.
I tipped my chin up, inviting her to squeeze harder.
To choke me to death if she thought she could.
But her grip eased, her fingers lingering on my neck.
“I’m willing to give you a choice.”
I stared at her, trying to keep the emotions from my face.
After years of needing to hide how broken I truly was, it was easy enough.
She leaned forward, her lips brushing the shell of my ear and sending a regrettable shiver through me.
After so long without being touched, it was hard to force my body into submission.
“You can swear your fealty to the uprising, have a collar permanently welded around your neck for your precious sapphire to be mounted, and prove your submission to your people with an act of uncompromising devotion.” She trailed her fingers down to my chest, pulling the laces loose on my shirt as she traveled over my sternum.
“No more frozen kings ruling over the elves. You will be the last of your kind, and you will remain the docile pet you used to be before your father turned you into a monster.”
I swallowed hard as her lips brushed along my cheek, the softness of her breath on my skin blooming gooseflesh down my arms.
“Or you can die,” she said before she stepped back, fury in her eyes. “You have twenty-four hours to make your decision.”
My arms were taken, and I was yanked back toward my throne.
“What is this act of devotion?”
“You shouldn’t have to ask. You should be happy to do it, regardless of what it is.”
I swallowed hard as I was thrust back into my throne.
I let them restrain me, unsure if I would attempt to fight without my magic or accept my fate.
At least I was fairly confident Wrenora was safe.
If this was about humans, Magdala would not have one murdered.
In fact, now I wondered if she’d waited until I’d sent her away to enact this final piece of the coup.
I’d bide my time. I had twenty-four hours, and I’d use every last minute to think of how I was getting out of this, how I could let this happen, and where I’d gone wrong.
How I hadn’t noticed Magdala’s treachery.
But most importantly, how to explain that I understood.
That in a strange, morbid way, I completely agreed.
I needed to die. My magic was the cause of the blight, and with my end, the seasons could return to Telrain.
My wrists were shackled to the armrests, my ankles to the legs. At least I had a comfortable seat, though the view could be better. Magdala took long slow steps toward me. She gazed up at the icicles that lined the ceiling, a sly grin pulling at the corners of her lips.
“You know, it might help you make your decision easier if I tell you.” She smirked. “Your father thought it was you. That you were trying to take his crown.”
I shook my head with a wry grin. “That doesn’t surprise me.”
“What should surprise you is that your mother begged for his life.”
I tightened. If my father was dead, had they killed my mother? She was innocent in all of this.
“Are they both dead, then?”
“Oh, no.” Magdala shook her head slowly, a sinister grin turning up her lips. “Your mother’s execution shall be your act of devotion.”
I let the words settle around me, frozen hatred solidifying in my heart.
I took one ragged breath after another as my vision tunneled.
My choice would be my life or hers. My sweet, innocent mother who had done nothing wrong other than be chained to her husband and king. She’d had little choice in this.
I shook with the rage and fear that simmered and threatened to explode from me as Magdala stepped closer, standing over me and reaching for my chin. She tipped my face up to hers as her blue eyes glared down at me.
“Twenty-four hours, Callan.” Her grin melted into anger. “To choose who lives.”
“The choice is easy.”
“Is it?” She turned her head to the side. “Have you made it already?”
“There was no choice, and you knew that before you even gave it to me.” I let every ounce of my anger and hatred burn into her with my glare. “I want to see my mother alive before I’m executed.”
“I thought that might be your choice.” She stepped back, a smug smile turning up one side of her lips. “She’s already on her way.”