35. Chapter 35 #3
Reina studied my face. “What had me telling you to shut your mouth back at the jeweler is that I believe the device you described is the same sort that killed Owain’s mother.”
The words dropped like boulders into deep water.
She spoke then of Queen Amara and the problems plaguing her pregnancy with Owain. How the Fae and human blood in the child had warred inside her, destabilizing her magic, threatening them both. How the queen had gone to the Assembly seeking help to stop the unraveling.
Reina’s voice stayed even as she spoke, like somebody who’d told a grief so many times it had worn smooth, but her hands, folded on the tabletop, had gone white at the knuckles. “They said they could only treat her in Caervorn.”
“Reina,” I said cautiously, “the Assembly lied to you. Owain’s strong Fae ancestry meant nothing. Humans and Fae breed without problem. I’ve never heard of a Fae woman having more problems with her pregnancy than human females.”
“Of course,” she said, her voice heavy with defeat that hadn’t softened with age. “So…it was an excuse to get her into their clutches.”
I listened as the fresh grief poured out of her. Yet even in this, she preserved her dignified air.
“I didn’t suspect they were draining her magic and her blood until she returned to us a shell.
Gruffid wanted her better, so he invited them to come to the Tir or she visited Caervorn again and again.
” She let out a faint, humorless breath.
“Amara held on for eight years—through what I suspect was torture—for Owain. Their healers swore to Gruffid that they needed privacy for their magic. And Amara was given sleeping draughts every time they treated her, so she couldn’t tell us exactly what they did. ”
Reina’s unsparing eyes met mine. “Throughout it all, I watched my sister deteriorate. I knew they were bleeding her, but they called that ‘healing.’ I couldn’t stop it because the leading magical minds were there to save the queen. Without evidence, I couldn’t prove that they were killing her.”
By the time she finished, it was hard to breathe from the emotion spilling over onto me.
“And King Gruffid died within a season of her because they were bonded…” I said sadly. “Does Owain know about this? We only spoke of it briefly.”
Reina shook her head. “He was a child. I refused to poison his grief with speculation.” Her gaze hardened.
“All I have is a scrap of enchanted fabric covered in her blood. Accusation without evidence is a quick way to die at this level of society. And it wouldn’t bring back either of his parents.
But this new device,” she said, voice low, eyes boring into me, “could be evidence.”
My stomach dropped. “You believe they’re doing the same thing to King Berian?”
“Naturally.” The word was laced with steel. Reina made a restrained, humorless sound. “Thibault’s underestimation of you might just be the key to stopping them from doing it again.”
Now my stomach was doing flips. “You intend to move against the Assembly?”
“I intend to protect my family,” she corrected. “All of them.”
Her eyes held mine for a moment longer than necessary.
The word family hung in the air between us. I thought of the diadem still cool against my brow. Of the dresses in my room. Of every careful, expensive, specific thing she’d done since the moment we met.
But I didn’t say anything. I wasn’t sure I could.
While I was overwhelmed by the unexpected return of something I’d believed lost forever—and wanted more than anything—Reina moved on as though she hadn’t just rearranged pieces of my heart.
“But protecting them will be complicated by the fact that I received word while you were at lunch that the Assembly has already dispatched a conclave here.”
The room seemed to tilt.
“For…?” I asked, though I knew.
“For you. And it’s led by the Assembly’s most notorious mage hunter.”
The title settled between us like the edge of a drawn blade already in motion.
Reina’s gaze didn’t move from mine. “His name is Vaustin Maeron, and he’s a sadistic shit with enough power to get away with murder. Chances are, he’s the man who ordered Owain’s caravan attacked.”
Somewhere outside, beyond the keep, a bell began to toll.
Things were simpler for the peasantry. If you knew a man wanted you dead, you certainly weren’t expected to welcome him into your home as an honored guest. Maintaining the appearance of ignorance was politically necessary, so Owain and the rest of us had to keep up the facade, hoping to beat them at their own game.
“Here’s something to help deal with that.” Reina finally opened the small box she’d kept on her person since we’d left the jeweler. She produced a ring of gold with an enormous emerald in the center that emitted a soft magical hum. She presented it to me without ceremony.
I turned it over in my hand, inspecting it with delicacy. “Is this going to blow up?”
Reina smiled. “Good guess.”
“How long do we have until I might have to use this thing?” I asked.
“My spies said he was closer than Caervorn. If the conclave rode hard…” She glanced toward the narrow window, her jaw tightening. It was the first time I'd ever seen her look afraid. “Until tomorrow.”