Chapter Thirteen
I t took half the night—screaming and pulling Alisdair behind me—before Foalan heard me over the howling wind. He, Eadaoin, Aeris, Bradach, and a contingent of guards rushed out to meet us. Aeris screamed at the sight of him. Eadaoin threw up.
Bradach grabbed his brother and took to the skies, flying him straight to the healers.
I raced all the way up to our bedchamber, and was thrown out the door by the head healer.
“We need space, time, and everyone,” she barked at me. “Get all the healers. Now!”
For hours I hovered out in the hall—pacing, crying, and shaking off everyone who tried to help or comfort me.
It made no sense. I began the night with every intention of killing him and running back home to Lyrica. Nothing had changed with that plan until he said—
“ So? What does any of that matter? She is my wife. She can murder me a thousand times, but no matter what she does, it is my honor to die for her, and my pleasure to kill for her. ”
“How could he say that, the frustrating, changeable beast!” I pounded my head, wishing I could bang his words out of my skull. Of course he had to go and say something so confusing, so ridiculous, so stupid, and so wonderful. He had to hopelessly jumble my mind until I said something equally stupid and told him I loved him.
I groaned, sinking down to the floor. I loved him. I loved Alisdair Shadowsoul, and I realized it in time to betray him in the worst possible way, and then get him savagely maimed.
What if he doesn’t make it through the night? What if this is how it ends? Me left alone to rule a cursed kingdom and wage a borrowed war. What if I never get the chance to make that irritating fool realize that he loves me too?
“My lady?”
I shot up, hurriedly wiping my face. Healer Soulstitcher stepped out of our bedchamber.
“Is he okay?” I asked. “Is he... Is he still—?”
“He’s alive,” she broke in. “But barely. We closed his wounds, and stopped the bleeding, but he lost a lot of blood. My lord has never carried coudarian crystals on him. Honestly, it’s always been a mystery to us from where he draws his power.” She shook her head. “Whatever that source was, he’s not drawing from it now. He may as well be a human.”
“What does that mean?”
“It means he’s not helping us help him. He’s not using his magic to heal himself, and there’s only so far our healing magic can take him.” She stepped to the side. “The rest is up to you.”
“Me?” I squeaked.
She gave me a wan smile. “You must remind him of his reason to keep fighting. Of why he’s not ready to run through the Meadows of Meya. It’s because he has to run back to you.”
I blushed stupidly, not knowing what to say. Not having the courage to say it even if I did. “Oh... Okay.”
Slowly, I stepped inside. The parade of healers vacated at the sight of me, tromping out one by one while I bit my tongue—stopping myself from asking them to stay.
My eyes didn’t know where to go. To the bandaged, silent figure on our bed, or the fourth wall looming behind him.
“I did that.”
I didn’t turn at Foalan’s voice. Part of me already knew he was there. Where else would he be?
“It seemed best not to tempt you a second time, my queen.”
I turned then, gazing upon him coolly. “You know.”
Foalan emerged out of the shadows, tapping his ears. “I know all that goes on within these walls.”
“Do you also know the identity of the traitor who helped your brother poison my food, bait me for the Taken, and toss me down the stairs?” My eyes narrowed. “Or am I in their presence now?”
“I am no traitor, my lady.” His voice was just as cool. “I did not try to kill you. Your death would achieve no useful purpose.”
“My death would achieve the purpose of keeping this land dark, cold, and cursed. That’s what your brother said anyway. Something about the risk of loving Alisdair is the risk he’ll destroy the cursed heart so he can love me back. I didn’t know that was possible. All my life I’ve been told the heart cursed the land, not that it cursed him not to love.”
“And that very well may be true,” he said almost conversationally. I say almost because he was circling me like... like a wolf. “We are no more privy to understanding the cursed heart than anyone else. All we know is that during the years Raelina walked the halls, Lumenfell changed. The kingdom and the man.
“The snow began to melt. Buds bloomed. Children were born with hands and feet instead of claws and fangs. And the sun...” He tipped his head. “One morning, the sun rose. As if it always had.
“My father and brother were terrified of what this meant. They saw their destiny slipping through their fingers, so they ruined Raelina... and sent me to kill Lord Lumenfell.”
My eyes widened slightly, my only reaction.
“I failed, of course.” He chuckled. “And my lord thrashed me soundly. I thought for sure that was the end. He was going to kill me. He should have killed me. But he just... stopped. My lord held up a fist and an open hand, asking me if I was ready to live on as my own man, or die as my father’s bitch. I’m certain you can guess what I chose.”
I studied him, tracking his slow pace around me. “Why are you telling me this?”
“Why else? It’s so you stop running from him, my queen.”
I froze.
“You’re not the only one in this room to try and kill him. We’re not even the only ones in this castle to do so. If he can forgive all of us and give us another chance, he’ll most certainly do so for you.”
My eyes stung, warping Alisdair in a sea of tears. “I made a terrible mistake, Foalan,” I rasped. “I wish I could blame someone else.” I thought of Emiana and her deal with Meallan. “But it was me. I told myself I was doing it to get home, but deep down, I just wanted to punish him for breaking my heart.”
He whistled. “You punish a heartbreaker by poisoning and throwing him off a cliff? Remind me never to cross you.”
A startled laugh burst out of me. “Come now, Commander. We both know it’s your deepest, fervent wish for me to punish you.”
He smirked—so darkly and wicked, I suddenly understood why women wanted to pick up a crop and spank the bad wolf out of him. “My lady, if I dared answer that, our lord would rise from his bed and finish the job.” Foalan backed out of the room. “Go to him, Ana. You’re what he needs. I’m sure of it.”
I stood there long after he left, feet glued to the floor. Foalan said I was what Alisdair needed, but in the same conversation, he proved I wasn’t. When Alisdair was with Raelina, their love was so strong, it brought back the sun.
Alisdair had been laughing, teasing, and tumbling me for two moons, and nothing had changed. If anything, I swore Lumenfell was darker and colder than when I first arrived.
Even if Alisdair could forgive me, he didn’t love me. He’d never break my curse, and we’d spend our days slowly wasting away—losing ourselves bit by bit. Him as a beast, and me as Emiana, and then as whatever animal Emiana turned into.
There was no happy ending for us, so why make him endure the presence of the woman who betrayed him and nearly got him killed? We would surely live and exist apart from now on—going through the motions as king and queen during the day, then acting as strangers at night.
Whatever I thought we were building between us was over. Better I stay out of his way until he got back on his feet to send me away for good.
Turning my back on him, I walked out the door. “Aeris? Eadaoin?”
The two stuck their heads around the corner immediately. I knew they hadn’t left after I ordered them away. I could hear their poor attempts to whisper quietly and breathe softer.
“Yes, my lady?” Eadaoin asked.
“Eadaoin, fetch cold water and cloth,” I ordered. “The last thing we need is fever to set in. Also, send for a servant to light the fires. Send another down to the kitchen and tell the cook to prepare chicken broth. I doubt he’ll be able to keep down much, but I have to try. You need strength to recover, and you don’t get stronger on an empty stomach.
“Aeris, get ointment and bandages from the healers. There’s no sense in them running back and forth when his dressings need changing. If there are any other medicines he needs, bring those up too with instructions.”
“Yes, my lady.”
They hopped to—taking off in different directions. That done, I returned inside, grabbed the chair from my vanity, and placed it and myself right next to my sleeping husband. His handsome face was hidden under a mask of ointment-soaked bandages, but all I saw was him.
“If you need a reason to hang on, you listen well, Alisdair Lumenfell. If you leave me, your fierce and brutal queen will rip open the veil, chase you through the Meadows, and bash the notion that we were ever meant to be apart out of your head.
“You didn’t marry a bird, you married me,” I whispered. “And you are just as much mine as I am yours.”
I couldn’t tell if he heard me, but it didn’t matter. I’d hold him to the promise all the same.
THE NEXT FEW DAYS PASSED in a blur of changing bandages, slathering ointment, spooning broth past unresponsive lips, and murmuring sweet, pointless chatter at his still form.
“You should rest, Lady Ana.” Aeris fluttered behind me, chasing me around with a bath robe and jeweled comb. “Your bath is ready and waiting. Please, bathe, eat, and then sleep for a few hours. Eadaoin and the healers will watch over our lord while you do.”
“No,” I replied—as I did when she asked an hour before, five hours before that, and a day before that. “I’m not going anywhere until he wakes up. Alisdair needs me. For once, I’m not running from him.”
“My lady, you’re dead on your feet. You haven’t slept in days. You think you’re speaking to me right now, but I’m over here!”
Blinking, I twisted around, landing on the Aeris standing in the doorway—not following behind me as I thought. My eyes crossed trying to focus on the real her.
“If you continue on like this, you’ll find yourself sharing the sickbed with our lord. Take a rest.”
I sighed. “Do the healers have something that can keep me alert and awake?”
She pressed her lips together tight.
“You don’t want to say, but the rule-follower in you won’t let you lie to your queen,” I said, smiling. “Go on. You can tell me.”
“Fine.” She sniffed. “They do have such an aid, but do you know what would be even better? Proper rest, food, and sleep.”
“No.” I was beginning to understand Alisdair and his abruptness. Why waste time with pleas, excuses, and explanations when an entire sentence was already contained in one word? “Fetch the aid for me, please, Aeris. Thank you so much.”
Aeris stormed out, mumbling something about obstinate, pain-in-the-ass queens, and it was all I could do not to giggle. The stress of Alisdair’s situation was getting to everyone if the prim-and-proper Aeris was finally breaking decorum.
I glanced at Alisdair, and the urge to laugh vanished immediately. It had been days, and there’d been no noticeable improvement. Healer Soulstitcher said at some point, Alisdair needed to find the will to summon the magic needed to heal him the rest of the way. If that was true, he hadn’t found that will. He wasn’t summoning that magic.
“She calls me the pain in the ass, but you’re the pain in the ass.” I bent over and dropped a kiss on his nose, the only part of his face free of the bandages. “All you have to do is wake up, but you’re stubbornly refusing because you can never give me what I want without torturing me a little first.” My smile was soft as I slipped my hand under his. “The joke is on you, because I’ll wait as long as it takes.”
I’d be waiting a long time was Alisdair’s silent reply.
A week passed, and then two. My husband didn’t open his eyes.
“Conn obviously didn’t learn from his predecessor Lorcan. The basks only have the right of the territory I give them,” I said. “Tell him he and his people return to the northern marsh, or I’ll have his throat ripped out and replace him with a leader who listens.”
“Yes, ma’am,” the soldier replied, bowing out of the room.
I was already done with her and fixing on Foalan. “I want you to increase the guard presence in the village, Bevin, and the other outlying towns. Reassign the palace guards if necessary. Attackers can’t invade the palace if they never get past the village.”
“Yes, my lady.”
“Aeris,” I continued. “Round up the palace staff and begin clearing out and preparing all the empty rooms. Evacuate the families in the villages beyond Hathal and bring them here to shelter until the threat has passed.”
“If they leave their homes, their plants and crops will wither and die,” Aeris replied. “They’ll return home to no food.”
“Precisely why I hired five more traveling merchants this morning. Riordan will have company when he sets out within the next few days. Two of them are traveling to Quatassa—much closer than Lyrica.” I shook my head. “It has to be this way, Aeris. We’ll spread our forces too thin if we try to cover every single village. When the threat has passed, we’ll provide food assistance until they are able to revive their resources.”
“Yes, Lady Ana.” She set out without another word, ready and able to carry out my will.
Holding court in my bedchamber wasn’t ideal, but I wasn’t leaving Alisdair’s side and there was a kingdom to rule. Especially because the morning after the wolves attacked, Foalan returned to the scene and found four corpses—the three wolves who aided Meallan, and the lone guard who went back alone after I dragged Alisdair away. The only trace left of Meallan was his severed hand.
Somehow the loathsome rat survived and scuttled off. Foalan had enough time to order the wolves living in Lumenfell out before the rest attacked Bevin, Gibarden, Lutran, and a bunch of innocent people—heeding the orders of their vengeful, humiliated alpha.
The attacks continued for days until they were driven out to the darkest, coldest part of the forest where only the best trackers with senses better or equal to the wolves could follow.
What Meallan hoped to achieve with these attacks, I had no idea. If his plan was to piss off and enrage the citizens so much they overthrow me and Alisdair, and hand him the throne, it wasn’t working.
“What about the other war we’re waging?” I asked when it was only the three of us in the room.
I eyed the babies sleeping, cooing, nursing, and slung on her back. Actually, the nine of us. “Were you able to find Mahoun’s heirs?”
Treasa walked past the baby cots I had brought up for her as if they were cacti, and not comfort for her and her babies. “So far we’ve found one,” she replied. “As you know, there’s no point killing one if we can’t find the rest.”
I sighed, gazing at Alisdair. He was impatient for this war. Emiana was impatient for this war. I was impatient for a better life for my mother and my sisters, so impatient, I gave them both the key to bringing about their blood-soaked victories.
But is this truly the only way? Just because Alisdair believes change can’t come without blood and slaughter, doesn’t mean I can’t prove him wrong.
“There’s nothing that can be done,” I finally said. “When Mahoun dies, they’ll swear in the new king, everyone will come out of hiding, and our spies can kill them then. That will give us a few months to think of something better.”
“Better?” Treasa bounced up and down, burping two fussy babies and rocking the other four. “My lady, the plan you chose is as wise as it is creative as it is merciful. You found the path of minimal and only necessary bloodshed. No messy war. No collateral damage,” she said kindly. “I don’t believe there is another way. Certainly not a better one.”
“But that’s just it, Treasa.” I talked while I picked up Alisdair’s broth and began the slow, gentle process of feeding him. “To assume there will be no messy war or unnecessary bloodshed is to assume we can create a power vacuum, appoint ourselves the rulers to fill it, and everyone in Elva will simply fall in line.
“Of course they’re going to fight back,” I cried. “They’ve been raised their whole lives to believe faeriken are evil, bloodthirsty beasts. They will not take kindly to one slaughtering their kings and forcing them under his rule.”
She inclined her head. “There will be rebellion, yes, but those would be easily quashed if you proceeded with developing a weapon with the siren’s voice.”
“Excuse me? You can’t possibly be suggesting I torture an innocent, beautiful creature to create a weapon of genocide!”
She appraised me calmly. “It is not for me to suggest, my queen. Merely to inform you of the resources at your disposal, and how they can be used. The decision is only yours.”
“No one touches the siren.” A thought occurred to me. “And if I ever say otherwise. If I rant and scream and order you to hurt that poor creature, ignore me. Matter of fact, tell me to shut my horrible fucking mouth up.”
She laughed. “What an odd request. But your point is made. You will not step on the throat of the innocent to ascend the ladder of power. It’s what makes you a good queen, my lady,” Treasa said, surprising me. “Maybe even a great one.”
The barest smile tugged my lips, and I deflated—slumping next to Alisdair. “A great queen would have another solution except the obvious one. One Alisdair said himself all those days ago.”
She gave me a look like she already knew, but needed me to say it out loud.
“The curse has to take Elva,” I rasped. “All of it. Everyone.”
“Why?”
Again I had the sense she knew the answer, but wanted to hear me say it.
“There will be rebellion. There will be attacks and war from those who want Elva to stay exactly how it is, but those of us who have been stepped on so others could ascend the ladder of power... they’ll fight beside us because our kingdom is the only kingdom that wants them to be free.”
“Free and changed?” she reminded. “Living in a land without sun or warmth. Forever cut off from the forests. Some things are worse than that to a summer fae, but not much.”
“The worst is having your magic bound,” I flung back. “It’s screaming and crying and begging with the trapped power inside of you to save the people you love. But you can’t. Because it’s just as trapped and useless as you are.”
I tossed my head. “The women of Elva have to be free, and the curse is the only way to free them. Even if there is rebellion. Even if there is war, it’ll be put down and stamped down quickly, because thirteen million faewomen are not going back to the way things are now.”
“Is it your wish, then, to wait until after the change takes Elva to enact our plan?”
“No.” There was no hesitation. “That would take centuries. We must claim the seats of power now. Start the process of change now. If only to get monsters like Salman off the throne. The things that he’s done. Atrocities that he planned, carried out, and then blamed on faeriken—knowing that no one would question him, and executing anyone who dared to anyway.” I shook my head. “He’s a monster the likes of which would sicken a worthless piece of shit like Meallan.
“The throne of Lyrica never belonged to him. He’s not going to sit on it for another day past his due.”
“What is your decision, then, my queen?”
I opened my mouth, and asked the question that sealed my fate. “Is there a way to spread the curse faster and wider? As in within the next few months while we wait for Mahoun to pass?”
“There is,” she replied, smiling enigmatically. “But of course I cannot tell you. The cursed can’t speak of their affliction.”
“You don’t have to speak it if you can do it. Can you do this, Treasa? And can you do it quickly?”
“I can do both. But I need you to say it plainly, my lady. Say that this is your decree and you will accept the consequences on both your behalf.”
I paused. “Will anyone be hurt?”
“I believe many people will get hurt when they wake up one day with unbound magic and pig snouts where their nose used to be.”
That reply earned her a hard look. “I know you knew what I meant. Will whatever you have to do to trigger the fast spread of the curse risk innocent lives?”
“No,” she replied easily. “No one innocent will be hurt.”
“Then yes. I decree that you spread the beast curse far and wide to every corner of Elva. Whatever the consequences may be, we both accept them.”
Bowing slightly, she turned to leave.
“Treasa?”
“Yes, milady?”
“If you’d like to take a break, rest, or get something to eat, you can leave the babies with me for a few hours.” I spooned a little more broth past Alisdair’s cracked lips. “You already know they love their Ana Haeowen.”
She looked at me in surprise. “You’re dead on your feet, haven’t slept in days, and of all things, you volunteer to watch six infants just to give me a break?”
“Oh. If you rather I call Aeris or—”
“No, no,” she rushed. “That’s not it, I just— No matter what circumstances brought you here, you were the queen Lumenfell was meant to have. Not a good queen, but a great one.” She continued on, carrying her brood with her. “Never believe otherwise.”
I wasn’t sure what to make of that, but I let her go—returning my focus to Alisdair. “I made the decision,” I whispered. “The decision I know you would’ve made and... the one I think is right. One day history will tell us if we were wrong.”
“You are the clever one.”
I lurched back, the bowl crashing to the floor and showering me with broth and broken pottery.
“Something tells me history will bow to your will,” he rasped, “as all men do.”
Alisdair blinked up at the ceiling as if he’d never seen it before. It was impossible to see his face, covered as it was, but an air of bemusement collected around him. I had a feeling it’d been a long time since he’d gotten seriously hurt. Maybe a thousand years.
“You were attacked,” I said slowly, while approaching even slower. “By Meallan and three other wolves. That was a fortnight ago. We didn’t think you’d make it because—”
“My queen poisoned me.”
His throat was ragged from disuse. It made the sentence sound ever more sinister.
“Yes,” I whispered. “I did.”
“At least we’ve continued the tradition of me waking up bound and dying after.”
Silence hung thick and heavy—smothering me. A thousand apologies sprung to my lips, but none of them were adequate. What was I supposed to say? I’m sorry. I did it because I realized too late that I love you, and realized even later that you’ll never love me back.
“Alisdair, you have every right to be angry with me. If you let—”
He sliced in, “You say it’s been two weeks?”
“I— Uh— Yes,” I got out. “The attack was two weeks ago, and much has happened since then. Including me realizing that I—”
“Then, you can go.”
I stilled. “Excuse me?”
“You can go, Princess. Send for Aeris and I’ll have her pack up your belongings and prepare the carriage myself.”
My lips trembled. I tried to stop my voice from doing the same. “Alisdair, please.”
“Two weeks I’ve lain here, little bird. Two weeks I haven’t chased, caught, and claimed you. Fourteen nights and fourteen times I’ve broken our marriage vow.”
“I don’t care about that!”
“You care. All you’ve done since you stood up on that altar is fight to be free of me, and now you finally are. Look for yourself,” he said. “The rune that kept you bound to me and Lumenfell is gone.”
I twisted, staring down at my ankle. Alisdair was right. He was right and I hadn’t even noticed. The rune that mangled my leg whenever I left his side was no more—merely a forgotten blemish on a pale, untouched ankle.
“So go,” he hissed, striking my heart through. “It’s what you always wanted. Congratulations, little bird. The cage is open. You’ve finally gotten your wish.”
I swallowed through needles, my whole body shaking. Despite my deep-seated survival sense telling me to stay away, I moved closer to him.
I took his hand.
“Alisdair, I’m sorry for what I’ve done. I made a terrible mistake—first by hurting you, and then again when my lies and bluster actually convinced you I wanted to be anywhere but by your side. But after what I’ve done, I know what I want doesn’t matter much anymore.
“What is your wish, my husband? Do you want me to leave?” I kissed his bandaged fingertips. “Are you telling me to?”
“I am telling you to leave.”
Nodding, I set down his hand and scurried away—racing before to door before he sensed my tears.
“But my wish...”
I halted, hand closed on the knob.
“...is that you never leave me, nightmare woman. Because if I knew how to be without you, I would’ve run slower.”
I dropped my forehead against the wood—smiling so hard and wide I thought my face would break. Only when I trusted myself not to do something embarrassing like burst into tears, or tackle a sick man and have my way with him, did I turn and face him.
“Well, if you insist,” I teased, returning to his side. “I’ll stay.”
I CLIMBED THE STAIRS the next day, loaded down with fresh bandages and healing ointment. With Alisdair awake and fighting back with magic, he was healing twice as fast, but Soulstitcher insisted we keep it up until he was out of the woods.
Turning the corner, we locked eyes.
The fox boy blinked at me. Clutched in his grip was a jeweled cane that belonged in a display case in the grand hall.
“You!”
Spinning around, the boy took off running.
I didn’t think. The bandages slipped out of my hands as I chased after him, heart pounding out of my chest. “Wait,” I cried. “I’m not going to hurt you. I don’t care if you stole that cane, I just want to talk to you! Make sure you’re okay!”
The boy ran faster. I lost sight of him whipping around the corner and picked up my feet, spurring my soft, princess body on. He’s here. I can’t believe after everything, I’ve found him safe, and just as eager to escape.
“Please, slow down,” I called. “I just want to help you. I—”
I turned the corner and met with nothing.
Skidding to a stop, I spun this way and that—disbelief throwing me for a loop. He was gone. Just like that, the child disappeared in an empty hallway as if he was never there.
“How?” I took a step, then another—slowly peering around.
There were no doors. No way in or out, barring the windows. Said windows were still intact, so the boy hadn’t done anything unbelievable like throwing himself through glass to fall three floors.
The only thing the hall had to say for itself was an unadorned, depressed wall, boasting two empty plinths. I flicked down to the base of the support, spotting a single brown shoe.
The boy’s shoe. What is it doing there?
I walked over, bending down to pick it up, and then I saw it.
A crack in the wall, imperceptible to someone looking at it straight on, with no reason to give a blank wall further examination.
Wedging myself through, I stepped into a curtain of ivy and blinked up through their twisting, tangled vines—basking under the orblights.
“Here you go, Alisdair!”
Alisdair?
I reached out, carefully parting the curtain. A courtyard opened before me—laying the path of auburn cobblestones and rose bushes pampered in their own heated oasis. Actually—
“Hot.” I peeled off my shawl and coat. The courtyard was as hot as the companions’ room. What was this place?
I peeked around a chin-high rose bush, alighting on Alisdair.
He gripped the jeweled cane and reclined on a stone throne, no doubt of his own conjuring since it was wholly out of place in the middle of the garden courtyard. His court didn’t seem to mind because all around him, children of different ages, heights, and animals ran playing and shrieking around him.
Off to the side, chatting quietly, were a group of four women—an elephant faeriken, two lioness faeriken, and a faeriken possessed by an animal I’d never seen before in my nineteen years of life.
Looking properly, the courtyard was actually more of an oversized balcony, rimmed by a large, stone railing that overlooked the snow and trees below. As dark as it was down there, it was well-lit above with orblights and torches.
“Are you going to come out or hide behind that bush all day?” Alisdair called.
Lifting my chin, I walked out—disapproval etched into my pores. “What are you doing out of bed? You woke up less than twelve hours ago, you’re in no condition to be moving around.”
“I’m much improved than I was twelve hours ago.” He lazily waved and a throne for me appeared by his side. Alisdair had freed his face from the bandages. Healing cuts and pinkish scars raked across his features, but did not diminish his handsomeness in any way. “My magic is slowly aiding the healing ointments and potions. Lying around like an invalid won’t speed up or slow down that process.”
“That’s not the point, and I’m fairly sure it’s not true. Running about the place will certainly slow down your healing. You’re going straight back to bed,” I ordered, claiming my seat. “After you tell me what’s going on here. What is this place?” I counted fifteen children, maybe sixteen. They were running around so fast it was hard to be sure. “Why are all of these children here?”
“This place is where you live, my queen. We’re still in the north wing. Just in the part of it that’s hidden.”
“Why would any part of it be hidden?”
“For the children,” he replied.
I gave him a hard look. “I require more explanation.”
“The children who come to Castle Riagin. This is where they live, and no,” he said, meeting my eyes, “not as slaves. They are free and safe here. They have three full meals a day, their lessons in the morning, and then they run around like hellions in the afternoon.”
I sat back, taking it in. “Are you telling me that you care for these children? And the fox boy?” I cried. “After all that bullpie about our castle not being an orphanage? Why would you lie to me?”
“I did what I must. That morning in the throne room, I was testing you.”
“Testing me?!”
Alisdair gave me the same hard look. “Yes. I told you I had spy reports on you. They all said you were harsh, prejudiced, and unforgiving. You cared not for anyone below your station. Worse, you treat them like bullpie stuck to your slippers.
“I won’t entrust my people to someone who sees a hungry, desperate child, and pulls out a sword to chop off their hand.”
I sputtered. “But that was your idea! I chose mercy from the start. You were the one spouting mad, crazed nonsense.”
“And you didn’t back down,” he shot back. “You physically stood between me and Foalan to protect a boy you didn’t know. You even kept searching for him to make certain he was safe.
“I won’t lie, you quite endeared yourself to me through those actions. I bedded you twice as hard that night in reward.”
I fell back, shaking my head. “You’re unbelievable. Only you could lie and manipulate me, and then act as though it was a reasonable thing to do.”
“It was reasonable. Talk is pointless. Action is all,” he said. “To know the true you, I had to see what you do, not bother about what you or others say .”
Rubbing my temples, I let it go. Arguing with Alisdair on if he was right or wrong would go nowhere, especially since I understood his reasoning. The true Emiana would’ve been a terrible ruler of faeriken. If she’d been put through that test, she’d have sharpened the sword herself. She cared not a whit about the troubles of a hungry little orphaned child.
“Why do this, though? Why keep them hidden away and separate?”
“It’s for their sake,” he said, gesturing with his chin. “You know how our people behave when the day’s work is done. That’s not for a child’s eyes.”
I did think of the many orgies taking place everywhere and every night. “That cannot be argued with,” I muttered. Finally, I relaxed—gazing upon the happy children with a smile. “How did they come to be here?”
Alisdair relaxed too. The smile he gave me did funny things to my stomach. “The usual unfortunate ways. Either their parents passed away or abandoned them. But they aren’t commonly dragged in by irate jam-sellers. My soldiers know to bring every lost child they come across here.” He nodded firmly. “Where they can be safe and cared for.”
“But, Alisdair, I don’t understand. Why in the name of Meya did you tell me I should stop looking for the boy, because if I discovered what you did to him, it would forever change my opinion of you?”
He trapped my gaze, a smirk stretching his lips. “Well... hasn’t it?”
I swallowed hard, pulse picking up. By the All Mother, yes. My opinion had changed. That morning, when Alisdair sentenced that boy to slavery, I thought him the lowest form of slithering worm. Even as we got to know each other, and our nighttime activities became more fun and frequent, what he’d done to that fox boy was always at the back of my mind—reminding me that I couldn’t fall in love with him.
Because Shadowsoul was a monster.
But looking at him then, I was thinking other things. About how sweet he would have been to Meli when she was little. About how sweet he would be to our children from the moment they were born.
Alisdair wasn’t the kind of beast who abandons. He was the one who stayed, who protected, who cared when everyone else forgot to.
He was the beast I loved.
I stood up. “Well, well, well,” I sang. “This looks like a fun game, but it’s missing something.”
The fox boy skidded to a stop. “What?”
“A tickle monster!” Roaring, I chased the kids shrieking around the courtyard—tickling breathless whoever I caught.
Everyone laughed, but no one as loud as Alisdair.
THAT NIGHT, WE WERE back in our bedroom, and I was finally tending to his bandages.
“Although, it doesn’t look like I need to,” I said, examining the closed and healing scars. “You’re healing better without my fussing.”
“Don’t say that.” Alisdair sat up in bed, reclining against the pillows while I unwrapped each bandage; checked his healing, pink scars; and rewrapped the wounds that needed more time. “Your fussing brought me back. I heard you when I was in the Meadows. Something or someone wanted me to stay, but you wanted me here.
“So I came back.”
I ducked my head, cheeks flaming. I never knew what to say when he spoke to me this way. Nothing had changed on that score.
I cleared my throat. “The Meadow, huh? I’m surprised Meya let you anywhere near the place.” Smiling, I poked his side to let him know I was kidding. “Figured it would’ve been the Burning Plains for you.”
Alisdair chuckled. “I’m not a monster, little bird. I only look like one. Meya knows that better than anyone.”
I know it too, Alisdair.
“Her name was Constance.” Alisdair gazed at the horizon that was no longer there—because of the walls and the darkness. “It’s rare for humans to be born with magic. Exceedingly rare, but not impossible. When they are, the women always discover their power. It’s in them. A part of them. It can’t be denied.
“Whereas for the human men, when they’re born with the power to draw magic out of their environment, they more often than not never know. Why would they? They don’t have crystals, runic knowledge, or any of the tools needed to access their power. They don’t even know they should.
“That’s why when magic was discovered, and the humans did what humans have always done to the different, they only came for the women.”
My quick, working fingers slowed. “Came for them? Do you mean they...?”
“They hunted them down and killed them.”
I hissed. Mama said our land was protected by magic—concealing us from human eyes, weapons, technology, and any method they might use to find Elva. But she always said that if these protections somehow failed and I ever crossed paths with one, I had to run. Run so hard and fast, I didn’t stop until there was half a world between us.
“Among the different, Constance was even rarer than rare,” Alisdair said. “She was born with incredible power. More than anyone I’ve ever known. More than Gisela Raekin. More than me.”
My brows blew. Someone more powerful than the most powerful man walking the earth? I couldn’t conceive of that.
“She was blessed, if not for the fact she was born in the wrong time and the wrong place.”
“They tried to kill her.”
“They did kill her,” he dropped. “They burned her at the stake. Her flesh bubbled off her bones while they laughed, cheered, and toasted their good works.”
“Meya, take it! That’s barbaric.” I shook my head. “That poor woman.”
“Don’t feel sympathy for her just yet,” he gritted, wiping away my mask of sorrow. “You see, people don’t understand curses. Not even the fae. We study them, we use them, we live under them, but we don’t know how they’re born, or why. And fewer know that a curse doesn’t need incantations, potions, or even intent to be born. All it needs is the hatred in one’s heart to take root.”
Understanding dawned. “When they burned her. She cursed them.”
“She didn’t know that was what she was doing when she screamed and raged at them, swearing revenge. But with all of that raw, bottomless power swirling within her, it responded,” he said. “When the dawn broke and the fire was nothing but smoking cinders, Constance stepped off her funeral pyre, and left behind a sea of corpses.”
“Her murderers? They died and she lived? How?”
“Not even I fully understand her curse. Near as I could figure, whatever someone tries to do to her, it’s turned around and done to them. Stab her and your chest splits open instead. Burn her and your skin chars and bubbles. Slap her and the pain explodes in your cheek. Kill her... and you die. Die in the same method and manner you chose for her. And it didn’t end there.”
“It didn’t? But what more could the curse do?”
“After her murderers died, they weren’t allowed the peace of waking up in the Meadow. It’s how she healed and survived their attacks. In that moment, she’d steal and eat their souls. The soul became pure, raw, magical power for her—making her stronger. While the would-be assassin became nothing more than an empty husk.”
I whistled. “Wow. That’s awful—for her attackers. It doesn’t sound like a curse for her.”
“It was, Ana. As you know, Meya demands balance. She will settle for nothing less than order and harmony in nature, and because of what Constance made of herself—an immortal, all-powerful, souleater—Meya birthed the means to destroy her.”
“What was it?”
“Fire.” Our own fire seemed to crackle louder, dancing in his eyes. “Has to be fire from a burning oak, the same wood her stake was made from, but oak is easy enough to acquire. Everywhere she went, she was hunted down, chased, and besieged by torch-carrying mobs. She could stop the people, but Meya wouldn’t let her magic put out the fire when it started.”
I thought of Alisdair ordering his servants to destroy the purple flowers instead of doing it himself. The All Mother was exacting in her rules.
“That’s why the night she and her lover woke to a room on fire, she couldn’t save him. She couldn’t stop it.”
“But she was so powerful,” I cried. “Her pursuers were only human. Couldn’t she hide?”
He shook his head. “The All Mother wouldn’t let her. Meya made sure her location was discovered every time.” He laughed—a short, harsh sound. “I tried to hide too, my queen, and then a cold and barren wasteland sprung up around me. The All Mother won’t stand for an immortal being any more than she’ll stand for not being obeyed. Magic was a gift she gave us. It’s not our tool for disobedience.”
I nodded slowly. “Alisdair, why are you telling me this now?”
“Because there is only this,” he rasped—eyes unfocused staring off in the distance. “There was always only this.”
I wasn’t sure what he meant, but I didn’t ask. “So what happened to her?” I said instead.
He didn’t reply. For a minute I thought he didn’t hear me. “She fled. She had no other choice but to flee. Constance stole a boat and sailed out into a storm, looking for a safe haven.
“She found Elva instead.”
“Elva? Our Elva?” A stupid response, because of course our Elva, but my surprise was warranted. “How could a human stumble upon our land?”
“She was so strong by that point—bloated on the power of thousands of souls. She saw right through the protections around our land, and from the minute she arrived, she was determined never to leave.”
“Why?” I asked, although I had a strong guess.
“Think of the world she left behind, Ana. A twisted, ignorant, misogynistic hellscape where men and women have magic, but only the women die for it. But then she arrives here, and not only is magic free and abound, but women are respected and revered. They’re the leaders and rulers of matriarchies.
“Constance had discovered her destiny. She was meant to be here, live here, rule here... as high empress of Elva.”
It was my turn to bark a sharp, incredulous laugh. “Excuse me? She, a human, thought she was destined to be ruler of our home?”
“By that point she was completely warped by bitterness and hatred. Much had been stolen from her, so she decided even more was owed to her in return.” He shook his head. “We were still simple people then. Farmers and traders. Half of us hadn’t left the forest yet. We had our own way, and it was right for us.
“But Constance only saw ignorant, long-eared simpletons. We needed her to educate us and lead us into modernity. That’s why she determined she was to be our empress. She was the only one with the knowledge and power to lead us into the future, and she would make that happen by any means necessary. Elva was her prize after a lifetime of suffering.”
My lip curled, mirroring the same scorn on Alisdair’s scarred face. What disgusting arrogance. To see a group of peaceful people living a different way from you, and take it upon yourself to decide their way was wrong.
“I take it all didn’t go to plan.” I scoffed. “Or at least, I pray it didn’t.”
He laughed. “Oh yes, little bird. We long-eared simpletons put up quite a fight. Much more than she bargained for. Every attempted coup was foiled and put down. She was thrashed within an inch of her life by Gisela Raekin herself. And when we discovered her fear of a simple little thing like fire...” He hissed. “She was chased right back into hiding.”
I didn’t fight off my grin. “They discovered a way to hurt her even though she was cursed to transfer pain?”
“Ash from an oak tree. They coated themselves, their fists, and their weapons with it. Constance wasn’t so arrogant then.” He grinned back. “I myself don’t know how they figured out that trick, but they did. You are descended from the brightest and strongest women of an age, and you prove yourself brighter and stronger every day. Never forget that, my queen. Never forget how proud you make them.”
My insides warmed. Not because he said something wonderful. He’d been saying wonderful things about me since we met. I warmed because this time, I knew he meant them.
“Were they able to drive her out?” I asked. “Kill her for good?”
His grin faded away. “How I wish they were. But she was too strong, Ana, and stupid is a word she’d never been called. Our queens proved to be too fierce to defeat... so she created the binding spell.”
I shot up, eyes blown. “The bind— The binding spell?! She created it?!” My mind spun—thrown in the whirlwind of everything I thought I knew flushing down the gutter. “But how? Why! How could she do that to faewomen after what was done to her?”
“To Constance, the bonds of sisterhood only extended as far as unquestionable loyalty to her ended. They became a threat to her, so she ended the threat with a single spell—binding their magic forever.” He sighed, dropping his head. “As you know, knowledge of the spell traveled far and wide, and Elva was forever changed.”
“Because of her,” I croaked. “Some random evil human bitch that never belonged here in the first place.”
He just nodded.
I sat down hard, staring in disbelief at the same spot Alisdair chose in the wall. “Why didn’t I know this?” I whispered. “Why haven’t I ever heard of Constance or what she did?”
“Because all knowledge of her and what she did was erased,” he replied. “By me.”
My lips parted, but nothing came out.
“When she went into hiding, of all the villages she could’ve chosen, she wandered into mine.” He turned to me, smiling mirthlessly. “If you think me handsome now, you should’ve seen me when I was young and in my prime. I couldn’t walk in a straight line for all the women throwing themselves at my feet. The men too.”
I snorted, though my mind summoned the image all the same. Alisdair even handsomer than he was now? If such a thing were possible, I would’ve surely been one of the women shackling myself to his ankle, unwilling to let his beauty out of my sight.
“Constance coveted me from the moment she saw me. She cared not that I was already mated and had three children.”
The truth would’ve shocked me if I had any left to give. I just took his hand, lacing my fingers through his. “You had children.”
“Three beautiful daughters. Just as quick, mischievous, and perfect as their mother, Raelina.”
I squeezed my eyes shut—an emotion I couldn’t name rising up and strangling my tears before they fell. I wasn’t sure at first, but right then I knew. This wasn’t simply any historical tale. This was a story of tragedy and woe, and I’d be forever changed after it was told.
“ The Raelina?” I whispered. “The Raelina that Salman...?”
There was pause, then he nodded. “Constance pursued me relentlessly, growing more and more enraged with every rejection. Meya owed her, you see. Not one but three of her lovers were murdered by mobs and witch hunters. Now that she had found love again, she refused to let a little thing like my free will stand in her way.”
I was already so sick, I nearly threw up. “What did she do to you?”
“It wasn’t what she did to me. It was what she did to Raelina,” he said. “One day, I came home, Raelina was gone, and that woman was sitting on my couch—cool, calm, and braiding my daughter’s hair as if she was exactly where she belonged.
“She told me she’d locked Raelina away somewhere. Trapped her in an inescapable prison, and if I wanted her to ever emerge alive, I’d leave with her right then and never look back.
“With her hands that close to my child’s throat, I agreed. I didn’t have a choice,” he growled, anger bleeding into his voice. “I left with her, hoping that if I did, she’d free Raelina, and my loves would be together and safe.”
“But she never did.”
He shook his head. “She held Raelina’s imprisonment over me like a puppet master tugs the strings. I tried to free her. I tried to kill Constance and free us all, but she never let me anywhere near a thing resembling a crystal. Even when I summoned the power, I couldn’t store it, so I had one shot and one shot only.
“I missed.”
“Oh, Alisdair, I’m sorry.” I rubbed his hand, trying to spread my love and comfort into him, but I knew it was as useless as my sorry. Nothing anyone said or did could make what she’d done to him better.
“She was never going to let us go,” he continued like I hadn’t spoken. “And all the while, my girls were alone. So, I escaped her and ran back to them again and again—each time finding a new hiding place and a new hope that she’d finally give up and wouldn’t find us. But every time she did.”
“What was wrong with her? How could she be so sick and obsessed?”
“I don’t know, but sick and obsessed she was. She got it into her head that I kept running back to my children because we didn’t have a few of our own.”
“Oh no,” I breathed, clapping my hand over my mouth.
Alisdair fixed back on that spot on the wall. “She violated me over and over again—shoving so many love and lust potions down my throat it’s a wonder I didn’t drown from the inside out. But for all her magic, there was one single truth she couldn’t defeat, and it drove her deeper into madness and obsession.”
My voice was soft. “What was the truth?”
“We’re not the same species. We cannot reproduce.”
My head slowly bobbed. Of course it was as simple as that. Meya was exacting in her rules. “But again, she didn’t give up, did she?”
“No. The opposite. She got it into her head that her becoming a summer fae was the key to everything. She’d belong in Elva if she was fae. We’d accept her as empress if she was fae. I would love her and she’d give me a better family... if only she were fae.
“She put herself and innocents through indescribable, torturous experiments all for the sake of trampling the laws of nature, and the result was just as hideous as the acts.”
“She didn’t become fae?”
“She became something resembling fae. The right appearance, the right mannerism, the same affinity with nature, but if you got close enough to her. Truly saw into her heart, you’d feel it ,” he hissed. “That she was wrong .”
He growled, lips twisted. “Even though she thought she succeeded, she still wasn’t able to get pregnant. I broke from her and ran a final time, and she snapped. If my children were the string that led my heart away, she’d sever that string. Permanently.”
“Alisdair, please.” Tears spilled down my cheek. “No.”
“She slaughtered my daughters. All three of them,” he croaked. “And not quickly.”
I dropped my head on his chest, crying for the pain he suffered—and all the while I never knew. No one knew.
“How could she do that? What kind of wretched monster was she!”
“A monster.” A warm hand cupped the back of my head. “That’s what I became when she killed my children. Something different. Something broken. Something new.”
“You’re not,” I said firmly. “I see the good in you. Your people see it too. That’s why for all Meallan’s whining and feet-stamping, the only ruler your people would ever choose is you. At the end of the day, we know the difference between those who would kill us, and those who kill for us. It’s the difference between a monster... and a protector.”
“My protection hasn’t amounted to much, Ana. It wasn’t even the goal I carried in my heart when I”—the words stole off his tongue, taken by an unforgiving curse—“and met her on the battlefield that final day.
“I wasn’t avenging the pain she caused Elva. I only cared about the pain she caused my children. I struck her down on the altar of my hatred and revenge,” he said, “and I was stupid enough to believe that was the end.”
“The beast curse.”
“Yes.” Alisdair gently stroke my hair, soothing me though it was me who should’ve been comforting him. “For centuries, I wasted away here, trapped in the ice with my regrets until—”
“Raelina came.”
I didn’t have to see him nod to know he did. “One day she was just there. I couldn’t believe it. It was impossible but... she was there.”
“Constance’s death freed her from the prison.”
“She wandered for years,” he went on. “Lost, confused, and unaware of the past until she came to Lumenfell and the change took her—freeing her soul and mind from Constance’s bindings. From then on, it was like we were given a second chance. We were together and we were happy, until she left with Salman.”
“She didn’t want to,” I cried, snapping up. “Meallan told me. He and his father addled her mind and made her believe she was in love with that snake. It was because of them that she left you.”
“I know,” he said, stroking my cheek. “Foalan told me everything the night of his failed assassination attempt. It was because of the shame and disgust written on his face that I spared him. He hated his father and brother as much as I.”
“What happened?” I asked. “Did you go after her?”
“You know our story, Ana. When she came to me singing his praises and speaking of love, I sensed something was wrong and forbade her from leaving with him, so she escaped with him in the middle of the night. She knew me,” he said. “She knew how to evade my nose and my magic. By the time I tracked her down, she was dead and Salman was marrying his new wife.”
I shook my head, my saliva turning to poison on my tongue. “No wonder you hated him.”
“There isn’t a soul alive that knows King Salman and doesn’t hate him. He inspires nothing but revulsion in even the purest souls.”
No truer words had ever been spoken. “But if you knew Meallan was behind what happened to Raelina, why is he still walking around with a throat?”
Alisdair snorted. “Because I’m a fool. Two hundred years ago, I swore a binding oath to the alpha of the time that I would not cross their territory, or lay a finger on his wolves unless it was in self-defense.”
“You what? Why would you agree to that?”
“Because he offered to do something even I couldn’t do.” He met my eyes. “Ana, the wolves protect us—everyone—from the Taken. Haven’t you ever wondered why they lurk outside in the shadows instead of swarming our townships and villages?”
My jaw worked. “I guess I never truly thought about it but... yes. They’re so savage. It didn’t make sense that they attacked travelers on the road, but stay out of the villages.” I fixed on him. “The whole time the wolves were the reason?”
He tipped his head. “They’ve never been able to live side by side with us. Their instincts wouldn’t allow it. They wanted their own territory—autonomous of Lumenfell and our laws. So we came to an accord. In exchange for keeping my people safe, Domhan wanted the same. For them to be safe from me.
“I agreed because he was a good man. He still wore clothes and ate at a table. He wanted his own piece of Lumenfell, not all of it. His terms were equal and fair, and my people were safe. There wasn’t a reason to refuse.” He scoffed. “I didn’t imagine we’d be where we are now. I didn’t know I’d just sworn the oath that would leave Raelina unavenged.
“When that truth humbled me, I’m the one who became mad and obsessed with revenge. I plotted to ruin the only person left that I could”—his stroking finger traced my lips—“and it brought me you.”
“Why now?” I whispered. “Why tell me all of this now?”
“Because you’ve asked so little of me while I’ve asked everything of you,” he said, surprising me. No matter how many times he did, it still shocked me when Alisdair gave me the sincere truth. “All you’ve wanted was to know the true me. Well, this is it, Ana. This tale—my past—it’s all there is, and all I’ll ever be.”
“That’s not true.” I cupped his face in turn. “You are so much more than what she’s done to you. Every other king in Elva built their throne on the weapons of oppression she handed them. You’re the only one...” I gazed at him with true clarity. “You’re the one who won’t rest until you’ve given back what she stole, and rebuilt what she ruined.
“Constance lost everything and it turned her into a power-hungry, narcissistic kakka who spread misery everywhere she went. You lost everything... and it only made you kind.”
“Kind?” He arched a brow, laughing derisively. “You’ve called me everything but since you arrived. Don’t puff me up with empty flattery, woman. I’m not yet so pathetic that I need your lies.”
Sighing, I rolled my eyes. “I’m not lying. You are kind. You’re also an ass,” I added, giving him a look. “But a kind one.”
“You believe this because?”
“Foalan—another child of your enemy who you gave a second chance.” My grin was wide and knowing. “Treasa—you’re the king of Lumenfell, but you trek out in the snow to see her to spare her the inconvenience. Bradach—you’ve kept a promise to your mother all this time, even the man could fray the patience of Meya herself. Aydan,” I said, for I had finally learned the little fox boy’s name. “He had nothing and no one, and you gave him a home again.
“And me. You claimed the bitter, spoiled princess of the man who destroyed your happiness, and instead of taking your revenge out of my backside, you’ve treated me as an equal and your queen.” I kissed his wrinkled brow. “I’ve always said the measure of a man is how he treats the people under him. With all you’ve done for your people, and the more you’ve done for the ones who let you down, I’d say that makes you the best man I know.”
“Hmm. Well, you were raised in a sheltered bubble. You don’t know very many men.”
“But I’ve known a lot of jackasses,” I snapped, “and you rise above them all. Why must you make everything difficult? It’s a compliment. You take them with a thank-you.”
“Why should I do that when I knew this would happen? You saw what became of the fox boy, heard my tale, and now I’ve softened in your eyes like a ripe peach baking in the sun. It’s unacceptable.”
My jaw hung open. “It’s unacceptable that I should see a softer, kinder side of my husband?”
“I shall rid you of the belief that I’m either”—his claws sprung forth for the first time in weeks, and tore my dress to ribbons—“tonight. I had that cane brought up for you, little bird. You won’t be singing of my softness when you’re limping through the castle tomorrow morning.”
Heat exploded in my lower belly, fed by the weeks-long wait it had no interest in. “Well,” I said lightly, “if that’s what you must do.”
Alisdair was on me before I finished the sentence.