Chapter 25
MAE
“Have you lost your mind?” I ask, because that’s the only plausible response to Etta’s proposition.
Her head jerks back, like my question was a slap to the face. “No. I’m perfectly sane,” she says in a completely rational tone.
“You want to…destroy the throne?” Holly asks from behind me, her first words to Etta since she miraculously returned from the grave.
Etta’s nod is crisp, and her smile is soft, a stark juxtaposition to the idea of destroying an entire kingdom. My kingdom.
My eyebrows inch upward. “Um…Okay, let’s say you do…Then what?”
Her smile widens, now revealing pearly-white teeth. It’s genuine, her eyes now crinkled and twinkling. “We remake it.”
Asmo crosses his arms and says, “Into…what exactly?” His tone is skeptical.
“Into a better kingdom that recognizes the Lower Houses and improves conditions for the humans,” she says simply. “Oh, and one that re-establishes the Fae Kingdom.”
I blink. “Sorry, the Fae? They’re gone.”
Their kingdom has been gone for twenty-five years, and the Fae people haven’t been seen for nearly a decade.
My mind races as I recall Holly’s lessons on them, but there wasn’t much.
The kingdom fell and they disappeared. That was the short version, but Holly only had a limited amount of time to teach me everything I needed to know.
“The Fae were never gone,” a rich, velvety voice says behind me. I turn, but Asmo’s back blocks my view. I crane my neck to look over his shoulder.
The female walking toward us is the embodiment of ethereal.
She reeks of power, her build muscular and her stride graceful.
Her skin is a rich dark brown, complemented by white, swirling tattoos covering both arms. Her hair and eyebrows are white as snow, but her eyes are blue as a lagoon.
They meet mine over Asmo’s shoulder. “We’ve just been in hiding.
” She stops and bows, deep and low, before rising once more.
“A pleasure to meet you, Your Highness. I am Amaris.”
I step around Asmo, about to repeat the sentiment, when he asks, “And who are you?”
“You are protective of her. Good. It is in your blood,” Amaris says.
“Who are you?” Asmo repeats, but it’s less of a question now and more of a growl.
“I am the delegate to the Fae Kingdom. And that,” she says, gaze cutting back to me, “is my queen.”
She draws a dagger from a hidden compartment of her leather vest. Asmo throws up a barrier, but Amaris bends down on one knee and draws the dagger across her palm, blood sprouting in its wake.
“With my blood, I vow to protect and serve you, granddaughter of Wrena and daughter of Orla.” She wipes the dagger on the leather vest and sheaths it. “I mean you no harm.”
My net bobs along the surface of the calm river. Nothing snags. “She’s telling the truth,” I tell Asmo, but he doesn’t drop the shield.
“What is this, Etta?” Asmo asks, turning back to my sister.
“I already told you. This,” she gestures to Amaris and Basil, “is the resistance.”
“How are you even alive?” Asmo asks Etta. “And you,” he turns back to Amaris, “Who are you and what the fuck is happening right now?”
Amaris rises. “You know as well as I do, Prince Asmo, that a blood oath is enough to prove my loyalty to your ma—”
Asmo snarls at her, and I flinch, nearly bumping into Holly.
“The Fae Kingdom has been gone for decades,” he says, “So, forgive me if I’m cautious of you and a princess that’s supposed to be six feet under right now.”
My stomach tightens at his crass words, and Etta stiffens. I place a hand on his shoulder, and feel the muscle relax. “Az, let’s just hear them out,” I whisper. “Please.”
Basil watches Asmo carefully, as if he thinks he’s moments away from exploding. But Asmo’s shoulders drop and he dips his head—albeit tersely—in silent acceptance. He shifts to the side, and I move to stand beside him as his equal, not something he needs to protect.
“I will explain everything,” Etta says placatingly. “But first, I want to make it clear what our mission is. We want to remake the kingdom.”
Wrena’s granddaughter will rebirth the kingdom—for better or for worse.
“You said earlier you wanted to destroy it, not remake it,” I point out.
Etta looks at Asmo. “Prince, tell me, would House Serpent recognize the Lower Houses as a formal House?”
He doesn’t have to think about it. “No.”
No surprise there.
Etta’s smile brightens. “Exactly. And neither would Panthera. Therefore, the old Houses cannot remain.”
Asmo guffaws, and Etta’s smile falters infinitesimally. “Well,” I say, “I have good news for you. Marik and Cora are about to destroy everything. I guess we can just wait for them to finish it off!” I shoot her a sarcastic smile.
She rolls her eyes. “That’s not what I meant. Obviously, we have to stop Marik and the witches. If we don’t, then they’ll break it beyond repair. We need to break it ourselves.”
“What you’re saying makes no sense,” I say, crossing my arms.
She sighs, and it has me bristling. Is this what it’s like to have a sister?
“We have to stop them, then change the way things are done within the kingdom,” she explains, still speaking in that maddeningly rational tone.
“We re-establish the Fae, establish the Lower Houses as a formal High House, and improve conditions for humans. I’m not saying burn the castle down.
It needs to be figuratively destroyed, I guess.
” She looks to the dirt ceiling in speculation, and nods firmly. “Yes, that’s a better way to put it.”
“Then what? You take back the throne and rule?” I look at her, one eyebrow raised, as I ask the question that’s been tugging in the back of my mind since I saw her alive.
She snorts. “No. I don’t want your throne. I was lucky your brother tried to kill me and got me away from it,” she says with an accusatory glance at Asmo.
Asmo shoves his hands in his pockets, and based on the clench of his jaw, I get the feeling that he’s resisting firing back a smart-ass comment. Amaris watches the exchange with a bemused expression, the white tattoos swirling on her arms like galaxies in the night sky.
“Then what’s the point? What do you get out of this?” I ask.
Etta rolls her eyes. “The feeling of being a good person?”
“Etta, come on,” Holly mutters.
Etta straightens, her face sobering. “Sorry. It’s a good question. It’s not right that our kingdom has shunned the Lower Houses. They deserve a place at the table. I would like to make that happen for them.”
Obviously, I was not expecting Etta to be alive.
The purpose of coming here today was to rescue a prisoner, not forge an alliance with an unsuspecting, formerly dead princess and a formerly fallen kingdom.
Of course, I could walk away. Maybe that would be the smarter thing to do.
I have no idea who Etta truly is or if she has an ulterior agenda, but with Torben’s refusal to help, I’m running out of options here.
“Our goals are aligned—we both agree that Marik, Cora, and the witches need to go,” I begin, lifting my chin and straightening my spine.
“But if you want my support on the other end of this war in remaking the kingdom, you have to agree to fight with us against the witches. Canis and Ursidae have agreed to help, but that’s not enough, especially since Panthera is now against us.
” I turn to Amaris. “I have no clue about the Fae forces, but we will take any help we can get.”
“We stand behind the fallen princess,” Amaris says. “Our forces are theirs to command.”
I tilt my head. “You just swore a blood oath to protect and serve me. Not Etta.” Her mouth parts, then shuts. A new gleam shines in her eyes as she assesses me. I don’t give her an opportunity to respond. “But I don’t want to come in between whatever deal you had previously with Etta.”
It’s not the truth. Not entirely, at least. We have zero allies, and forcing the Fae to fight for us might screw me out of any opportunity for an arrangement with Etta and the Lower Houses.
I’m not exactly in a situation where I can turn away help, let alone create enemies.
And I get the sense that Etta is not someone I want to make an enemy of.
Etta takes a step forward, hands clasped in front of her.
“Let me be crystal-clear, High Queen,” she says, and the title surprises me.
Just moments ago, she looked at me like she felt sorry for me, like she thought me na?ve.
“I expect you to re-establish the Fae and the Lower Houses as official governments within the kingdom. I expect you to ensure they are treated equally under the law and in our society. In return, we will provide you aid in defeating the witches. In addition, you will help us rescue the prisoners that are to be executed.”
I grind my teeth as I think through the implications of this.
Agreeing to something like this without consulting the Herd is downright stupid.
Sure, it sounds logical and empathetic—why wouldn’t we want to help other groups succeed?
But there is so much I don’t know about the Fae and the Lower Houses.
What if they’re dangerous? Ivan’s tale comes to mind, along with everything I’ve heard about the Fae, which is all, frankly, terrible.
But my mother was Fae, and I am half-Fae.
I rub my temples as I think through the other considerations she just added.
Agreeing to help rescue prisoners puts us at risk, but it’s the only option we have for securing the allies we need to fight the witches.
Losing Ursidae was a blow that we couldn’t afford, and this is a solution.
But if I don’t agree, then we risk losing allies and the forces necessary to save the entire kingdom.
Asmo steps forward. “Mae…”
I hold my hand up. “Deal.”
Etta extends her hand, and I grasp it. It is shockingly rough and calloused, and I wonder who she has had to become since facing death’s door. “Come back tomorrow. Same time.”