Chapter 26
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
W ith Alloria dead and Queen Laena awaiting trial in the dungeons for murder and kidnapping, the oppressive weight that had rested on Fallon’s shoulders began to dissipate, one day at a time…and one task at a time.
Somehow, by the grace of the gods, there was never any suspicion that Laena’s bloodline was tainted by Kaos magic. The general consensus among the witnesses and the Royal Council was that the sheltered, highborn lady could never have been a Kaos witch. Laena had simply fallen victim to carrying out the deeds of one. While she might not be put to death for her crimes, it was all but guaranteed that she would never sit upon the throne agin.
The somnomium bars of her cell prevented her from casting any spells or enchantments that would give away her true identity. And without Alloria’s infusions of blood magic, her looks began to wither to the point that she wouldn’t even let Tristan come down to visit her.
Laena’s absence from the Royal Council left a gap that Dillon was more than happy to fill. Mauricio took him under his singular arm, helping him understand what he’d missed in the last ninety-seven years since he’d been taken prisoner.
And while Fallon and Novi mourned the death of Tamira, they were able to give Elka the job, now that there was no need for her to spy on the Queen. With Elka’s attentive care, Novi and Fallon were finally able to sleep in and enjoy their time with Lucia.
Even so, there was still a raincloud looming over them.
Fallon’s wedding had not been canceled.
“I’ll speak to Father about it later today,” he said to Novi when the subject came up again. They were sprawled on the floor, watching Lucia kick and squirm on a blanket.
Novi quirked a curious brow at him. “King Balerin is awake?”
“Yes,” Fallon nodded. “I’m told he’s more alert than he’s been in a long time.”
“Probably because your mother isn’t able to leech off of his energy,” Novi observed.
“No doubt,” Fallon agreed. “He’s still too weak to leave his bed, but Dillon’s scheduled to have tea with him later today. I’ll drop by and tell him my plan. I can’t imagine he’ll object to it. The marriage to marry Lady Jennae was arranged purely for economical reasons.”
“What time is Dillon meeting him?” she asked. Fallon stretched lazily, then glanced at the clock.
He was on his feet in an instant, making Novi laugh.
“I guess that answers my question. Let me know how it goes.”
Fallon flashed her a lighthearted smile.
“You’ll be the very first person I tell.”
Dillon was already seated at Balerin’s bedside with a teacup in his hand when Fallon quietly stepped into the room. Seeing there were no footmen or servants, he breathed a sigh of relief.
The old man scowled at him as he pulled up a chair and joined them.
“Your brother has been telling me all about the debacle with your mother.”
"Father," Fallon announced, his voice cutting through the silence. "I have grave news that you ought to know. The same goes for Dillon.”
Balerin looked up at him, his black eyes unreadable. "Go on, boy. Speak."
Fallon leaned forward, his voice steady. "Your Majesty, I’ve recently uncovered evidence that Her Majesty has not only been practicing Kaos magic, but she is herself, a Kaos witch. It’s in her blood." He paused to glance at Dillon. “It’s in ours as well.”
Dillon lifted a curious brow, then sipped his tea with a remarkable display of nonchalance.
Fallon watched his father's face, searching for a flicker of surprise, of outrage…of anything at all. Instead, he found only a cold indifference.
Balerin leaned back in his bed, his fingers steepled. "I see. And what do you propose we do with this...information?"
The casual dismissal in his tone ignited a fire in Fallon's chest. "Father, she murdered my nanny and eight armed guards. She attempted to murder my daughter.”
“Your bastard.”
“My firstborn ,” Fallon said, feeling his blood grow hot. “She's been using forbidden magic under our very noses. Surely you understand the gravity of this situation?"
Balerin waved a hand dismissively. "What I understand, my son, is the importance of maintaining the Blackwood Dynasty. The family name must remain untarnished."
Fallon's jaw clenched. "So we do nothing? What of the safety of our people?"
"The people's safety lies in their ignorance," Balerin scoffed. "Would you rather destroy our legacy and be put to death? If you have any brains in that head of yours, you’ll have considered the consequences of this information being made public."
“Oh, I’ve considered it,” Fallon coolly replied. “I know that Kaos magic only manifests in the women who carry it in their blood. I wonder how it is that you’ve sired countless female bastards with your concubines, but only had one daughter with our mother…a girl that mysteriously died right after being born.”
“Babies die, Fallon,” his father growled. “Even the royal family cannot escape this fact. Are there any other accusations you’d like to make now that I’m awake to hear them?”
“No accusations…although we both have a proposition for you.”
Fallon glanced at his brother, waiting for his nod of approval. There was no way to ease his father into this conversation. He took a deep breath.
“We want to propose an official change to the succession.”
Balerin's eyebrow arched. "Oh?"
“Dillon is the eldest son, and the rightful heir to the throne. He should be the one to marry Lady Jennae.”
The silence that followed was deafening. Balerin's eyes, black as pitch, bored into them.
"Out of the question," he finally declared, his voice cold as the depths of winter.
Dillon flinched, but Fallon pressed on. "Father, he’s been raised from birth to take the throne. Surely you see?—"
"What I see," Balerin interrupted, sitting up straighter, "is a son who spent nearly a hundred years in our enemy’s hands. Why would I hand over the throne to a son whose loyalty may very well be compromised? I know all about your new Estellian friend, and how he maimed my youngest son! How dare you bring an enemy into my home and then expect to be my heir!"
The accusation hung in the air, sharp as a blade. Dillon's face drained of color.
"Your wedding to Lady Jennae will proceed as planned, Fallon," Balerin continued, his tone brooking no argument. He reached for a bell on his nightstand and gave it a loud ring. “This discussion is over. Get out of my sight before I have you forcefully removed!”
As they left the room, the Blackwood brothers grappled with the weight of their father's dismissal. A palpable tension crackled between them as they walked side by side down the hall.
Fallon glanced at his brother, noting the tightness in Dillon's jaw, and the barely contained fury in his eyes.
"This way," Fallon muttered, guiding them towards a secluded alcove hidden behind a tapestry depicting one of their ancestors' bloody victories.
Once concealed, Fallon turned to Dillon, his voice low and urgent. "We can't let this stand. Father's lost his damned mind if he thinks I'll blindly follow his orders. The man is paranoid.”
Dillon's laugh was bitter, tinged with dark humor. "Welcome to my world, brother. Feels good to be the favored son, doesn't it?"
Fallon winced, guilt gnawing at him. "I'm sorry, Dillon. I should have seen it sooner."
“Ah, but you’ve seen it now, and that’s what matters,” Dillon waved off the apology. "What's your next move?”
“Well, seeing as how Father’s too weak to attend the wedding, why don’t you just take my place?”
Dillon shook his head.
“If I take your place at the ceremony, Father will most certainly annul the marriage and disown me. You’ll be back to square one.”
“I could leave the city,” Fallon said, crossing his arms. “What would you do, if you were in my position?”
A crafty grin spread across Dillon’s face.
“If you want something, you don’t wait for it…you fucking take it. You want to marry Novi? Marry Novi.”
Fallon’s eyes widened at his brother’s comments.
“Are you suggesting I defy the Royal Council?”
“No, I’m not suggesting it,” Dillon said with an arrogant grin. “I’m demanding you do it. For the sake of the gods, Fallon—you are descended from them! Novi has been blessed by them! They gave you back your fire! Don’t dishonor our demon ancestors by ignoring the gifts they gave you. Forge the path you wish to walk. Light the way. Blaze a trail. I’m running out of metaphors. Do you even register the point I’m trying to drive into that thick skull of yours?”
Fallon nodded quietly.
“I do understand. It just strikes me as an abuse of power.”
Dillon rolled his eyes and groaned.
“Who exactly is being abused if you marry her? Not Novi. Not you, not Lady Jennae, nor me, nor anyone else in the kingdom.” He rested a hand on his hip, watching his brother’s reaction to his pep talk. “You know who will be angry? Father, because he’s a power-hungry bastard, and Worlic, because he won’t have access to Jennae’s wealth. They’ll probably throw a little temper tantrum and perhaps convince the council to cut funding to your newest project. Isn’t that worth it to be with the woman you love? Isn’t that what you want more than anything?”
Dillon’s words were music to Fallon’s ears. He was quiet for a while as he thought it over.
“Well?” Dillon pressed. “What are you going to do?”
Ever so slowly, Fallon’s frown twisted into a grin.
“I’m a fucking Sacred Son of Sinaryos. I’m going to take what I want…as is my right.”