Chapter 57 Convince Heroes to Bleed for the Greater Good
(It’s Surprisingly Difficult)
Arabella
I found Sebastian waiting in the corridor. More flowers—these a sickly yellow—were already sprouting from the stone floor around him.
“Ready to convince a bunch of terrified nobles that bleeding for us is actually a good idea?” I asked.
“Nothing I enjoy more than public speaking to hostile audiences while the world ends.” He fell into step beside me. “How do we even start? ‘Hello, we kidnapped you for your own good, now please donate your blood to stop an ancient evil’?”
“I was thinking more along the lines of ‘Congratulations on not being ritually sacrificed by King Auremar, would you like to help ensure that continues?’ ”
We made our way to the Great Hall, where Vex had gathered most of our “guests” for what she’d called an “informational meeting about your temporary accommodations.” The noise hit us before we even opened the doors—dozens of voices raised in complaint, confusion, and in Lord Janos Torok’s case, challenges to single combat.
“Deep breath,” I told Sebastian. “We’re about to walk into a room full of people who have every reason to distrust us and ask them to voluntarily participate in blood magic.”
Another flower—this one black—bloomed and immediately crumbled to ash on his shoulder. He brushed away the remains as I pushed open the doors.
The Great Hall fell silent as we entered. Seventy-eight pairs of eyes turned to us with expressions ranging from suspicious to openly hostile. Torok, predictably, had his hand on where his sword would be if we hadn’t confiscated all weapons.
“Lady Blackrose,” Lady Kovacs spoke first, her voice carefully neutral. “We’ve been gathered here for days with no explanation beyond ‘for your protection.’ I think we deserve answers.”
“You’re right,” I said, moving to the front of the room. Sebastian took position slightly behind me, flowers now growing in a nervous rainbow at his feet. “You all deserve the truth.”
“Which is?” Lord Brightwater demanded.
I took a breath. Here went nothing. “If you haven’t already heard, King Auremar has been systematically hunting down and capturing everyone with heroic bloodlines.
What you might not know is that it isn’t for political marriages or alliances, but for a ritual that will free an ancient evil called the Shadow King from his prison beneath Solandris. ”
After a beat of silence, the room erupted. Denials, gasps, accusations of madness. The Fekete twins laughed in sync, which was creepy.
“Preposterous!” Lord Brightwater’s face had gone an alarming shade of purple. “King Auremar is—”
“A fraud who’s been siphoning power from a magical prison to fuel his kingdom’s prosperity,” I interrupted. “The Golden Rose Fields? They’re not just pretty flowers. They’re anchor points that Auremar has been systematically weakening by sacrificing people like you.”
“You expect us to believe—” someone started.
“I expect you to use your brains,” I snapped, my patience already fraying. “Why else would the Dark Lord and the last free scion of House Evenfall bother collecting random nobles and their families? For fun? We have better things to do with our time.”
“Like conquering kingdoms,” someone muttered.
“Yes, actually.” I let a bit of irritation creep into my voice. “My husband was in the middle of invading Solandris when we discovered Auremar’s plan. Do you think he abandoned a military campaign to play innkeeper out of the goodness of his heart?”
That gave them pause. Even Lord Brightwater looked thoughtful.
Sebastian stepped forward, and immediately half the room relaxed. Say what you would about his political effectiveness, but people instinctively trusted him.
“It’s true,” he said quietly. “All of it. I’ve seen the evidence. Auremar tried to capture me for the same reason. My bloodline, your bloodlines—we’re all keys to a lock that should never be opened.”
“But why should we help you?” Lady Goldmary asked. “You kidnapped us!”
“Because the alternative is letting Auremar complete his ritual and unleash something that makes my husband look like a children’s birthday entertainer.
The Shadow King doesn’t just want to rule,” I continued, letting real fear color my voice.
“He wants revenge. More than seventeen hundred years of imprisonment, and guess whose bloodline put him there? Ours. Every person in this room carries Soriven’s legacy in their veins. ”
I paused, meeting their eyes one by one.
“When he rises—and he will if we don’t act—he won’t just kill us.
He’ll make examples of us. Our children, our families, anyone who shares even a drop of heroic blood will be hunted down and destroyed in ways that would make the worst stories seem like mercy. ”
Sera Marenti-Cross pulled her son closer. Even Lord Brightwater had gone pale.
One of the Fekete twins leaned forward. “What exactly are you asking of us?”
This was the tricky part. “There’s a cleansing ritual. One that can cast the Shadow King out of the ley lines and strengthen his prison. But it requires the willing participation of those with heroic blood.”
“Blood magic.” Lord Brightwater’s voice was flat. “You’re asking us to participate in blood magic.”
“A few drops,” I said. “Willingly given. No one’s being sacrificed, no one’s being drained. Think of it as donating to a cause.”
“The cause being saving the world,” Sebastian added helpfully. A small garden was now growing around his feet.
“And if we refuse?” someone called from the back.
I met their gaze steadily. “Then we all die when the Shadow King breaks free. But hey, at least you’ll have maintained your moral high ground.”
“That’s not helpful,” Sebastian murmured.
“Neither is stubborn refusal to see reason,” I shot back.
The room dissolved into arguments. Some people seemed convinced, others violently opposed. Lord Brightwater was loudly declaring that he’d rather die than participate in dark magic, which several people pointed out was exactly what would happen.
“ENOUGH!” I let power roll through my voice, shadows dancing at the edges of the room. Everyone fell silent. “King Auremar has captured more families. People just like you, with children just like yours. In five days, he plans to sacrifice them, and he’ll break the prison completely.”
Gasps echoed through the hall.
“We’re mounting a rescue,” I continued. “But even if we succeed, we need your help to perform the cleansing ritual. This isn’t about politics or power plays.
This is about survival. And if you can’t see past your prejudices long enough to save your own lives, then you’re not the heroes your bloodline suggests you should be. ”
“How do we know this isn’t all an elaborate trick?” Lady Clearwater asked.
“You don’t,” I admitted. “But consider this—if we wanted to use your blood for nefarious purposes, would we be asking permission? We have you all here, defenseless. If we were the villains you think we are, we’d have taken what we needed already.”
That uncomfortable truth settled over the room.
“I’ll do it,” a small voice said.
Everyone turned to see Lady Moonbay’s daughter, barely thirteen, standing with her chin raised. “If it saves people, I’ll do it.”
“Absolutely not—” her mother started.
“Mom, they saved us.” The girl’s voice was steady. “Lord Blackrose’s soldiers got us out before King Auremar’s people arrived. I heard the servants talking. We’d be prisoners—or worse—if they hadn’t acted.”
“I’ll participate,” one of the Fekete twins said. “If it’s truly voluntary and only a few drops.”
“As will I,” her sister added. They nodded together, and I suppressed a shudder.
Slowly, others began to voice their agreement. Not all—Lord Brightwater looked like he’d swallowed a lemon—but enough. More than enough.
“Thank you,” I said, meaning it. “We’ll perform the ritual once we’ve rescued the others.”
“What about our families?” Lord James Pearlbridge asked. “The ones without heroic blood?”
“They’ll remain here, safe and protected,” I promised. “This isn’t a punishment or a prison sentence. Once the threat is dealt with, you’re free to go wherever you wish.”
“Assuming we survive,” Lord Brightwater muttered.
“Yes, well, that’s rather the point of all this. Survival.” I fixed him with a hard stare, and he shrank back.
As the crowd began to disperse, Sebastian and I shared a look of exhausted triumph. One crisis managed, approximately seven hundred more to go.
“That went better than expected,” he said.
I watched Lord Janos Torok storm off, probably to challenge a suit of armor to combat. “We have enough volunteers. It’ll have to do.”
“The children helping shamed some of the adults into it,” Sebastian observed. “Funny how that works.”
“Children usually have more sense than adults,” I agreed. “Less time to learn stupid prejudices.”
Vex appeared at my elbow, having materialized from whatever shadow she’d been lurking in. “Well done. Only three threatened to riot, and Torok only challenged two people to duels during your speech. I call that a win.”
“We’ll need to move them,” I said. “The volunteers, I mean. Once we rescue the others, we’ll need to perform the ritual quickly.”
“The Sky Serpent can handle it,” Vex assured me. “I’ll coordinate with Captain Brecca.”
“Just the ones with heroic blood this time,” I emphasized. “Their families stay here where it’s safe.”
“Understood.” She vanished again, off to handle logistics with her usual terrifying efficiency.
Sebastian and I stood in the emptying hall, surrounded by the detritus of his stress flowers.
“Five days,” he said quietly.
“Think we can pull off a rescue, an invasion, a ritual, and save the world in that time?”
“Honestly? No.” He smiled wryly. “But we’ll do it anyway, won’t we?”
“Of course we will.” I clapped him on the shoulder. “We’re heroes, remember? Impossibly stupid plans are kind of our thing.”
“I thought you were the Dark Lady now.”
“I’m whatever I need to be to keep the people I care about safe. Even if one of them is an impossibly stubborn Dark Lord with a martyr complex.”
“He loves you, you know,” Sebastian said quietly. “I’ve seen how he looks at you. Like you’re his entire world.”
“I know.” I slowly exhaled. “That’s what scares me.”
Because love could make people do terrible things. And if Kazimir ever had to choose between me and the world…
I wasn’t entirely sure which he’d pick.