Chapter 7
Lor
Iwalked along the cobblestone street, tall trees with thick leafy canopies rising up behind all the buildings, my brothers on either side of me.
“So?” Cillian said, shaking some of his dark wavy hair from his forehead. “What do you think?”
“About what?” I asked.
Cillian shot a look out the side of his eye toward my other brothers. “The scroll I just read to you?” He held the rolled parchment up.
“What about it?” We passed the blacksmith, forging a sword over molten coals, smoke curling in the air.
I nodded to him.
“Your Majesty,” he said, head dipping.
“Are you going to do anything about it?” Cillian asked as we continued on our way.
“No,” I said. “It’s ridiculous. What am I supposed to do? Beg Aoife to let me be king? She’d never agree. She’s too stubborn. The month will go by, and this edict will expire, and everything will continue on just as it has.”
The thought exhausted me. I was so sick of fighting with my wife while also trying to do what was best for our people. It was draining me, but I saw no other way forward, and I honestly had no idea why Castle even bothered with this. Nothing would come of it.
“You could try?” Nevan suggested, pushing his spectacles up his nose. “Maybe you can be persuasive.”
A tall wooden townhouse stood in the distance, the sun shining over its thatched roof. My newest project.
I’d just had it built, and today was our very first town hall, a chance for citizens to come forward with questions and concerns and be listened to by Aoife and me. I wanted it to be a chance for our community to come together, for Aoife and I to come together.
At least that was what I hoped. Aoife always surprised me in one way or another, and my shoulders bunched to my ears as I thought about what she could do to derail this plan.
She could arrive late or not show up at all, but neither of those were the worst things that could happen.
She could pick a fight in front of our people.
I just had to hope she realized how detrimental that would be.
It wasn’t like she’d actually showed up to any of our meetings planning this entire thing, but I had gotten her signature to move forward with it, so that was something.
“Well, that went about as expected,” Cillian murmured to my brothers, gesturing to the scroll.
A strong, firm hand gripped my arm, and I turned to face my oldest brother. Wolfe’s thick brows pinched together as he stared down at me. “Lor,” he said.
I’d always looked up to Wolfe, wanted to be just like him.
He trained me, practically raised me along with my parents.
He’d always instilled in me that I needed to do the right thing.
He’d raised me to be a hero—and then when I was twenty, I’d gone and disappeared.
Let him, everyone, believe I was dead after I’d been kidnapped by our enemy, by the Brotherhood of Magic.
I hadn’t intended to stay with the brotherhood.
My plan had been to escape. But I’d discovered one of the members was actually a rebel.
Arthon had been working against the brotherhood in secret. And he wanted to recuit me.
Flashes of his wrinkled, scarred face appeared in my mind as he told me I had a choice: You can crawl back to your kingdom.
Or you can train to be my replacement one day.
The new leader of the rebels if something ever happens to me.
But you will have to sacrifice, Lor. You will have to sacrifice everything to do this.
I’d failed, in the end. Then Castle had other plans for me, and now here I was, trying to be the king everyone deserved, trying to make up for the way I’d hurt Wolfe, hurt my whole family, when I abandoned them.
Trying to make up for ruining Arthon’s legacy, ruining all the years of training and trust he put into me to be the leader of the rebels. To destroy the brotherhood.
“Lor,” Wolfe said again, and I shook my head, shook away Arthon’s ghost, his voice, telling me I wasn’t trying hard enough. That it was my fault Aoife didn’t want to rule beside me, and I had to try harder to convince her.
Be better, Arthon’s voice barked in my ear. Show her the kind of leader she needs to be. Her shortcomings are your shortcomings, Lorcan.
“You seem tense,” Wolfe said.
Of course I was tense. We were about to have our first town hall meeting ever, and I had no idea how it was going to go, what kind of mood Aoife would be in, especially after our fight a few days ago. When she’d told me she would rather be a statue than my wife.
“Maybe we can delay the town hall,” Nevan said, all my brothers facing me as we stopped in the middle of the road.
“Absolutely not,” I said. “I’ve been planning this for months.”
Cillian spread out his hands. “Plans can change.”
Not this one.
Wolfe sighed. “Lor, you’re a good man. One of the best I know. You’re an amazing king, and you care for your people.”
“Can I speak?” Nevan raised a finger.
My gaze softened. Nevan was the smartest of us, no doubt. Also probably the kindest. “You don’t have to ask permission, brother.”
He shot a look at Wolfe and Cillian on either side of him. “We’re worried about you. It’s like you’re trying to prove yourself when you’ve already won. You’re king. You’re admired by everyone.”
I could think of one person whose admiration I didn’t have. She and Arthon would probably get along, actually. He’d get a kick out of how feisty she was, and he’d probably agree with all her criticisms. He’d be horrified that I left the brotherhood, left my job as the rebel leader.
“I’ve made a lot of mistakes,” I said, thinking of the rebels I’d left behind. Of Leena, my right-hand person, the tears and betrayal in her eyes when she’d discovered I wasn’t coming back to the rebels with her. That I was staying here to be king.
“We’re past that,” Wolfe said. “You’re forgiven, Lor.”
“I know.” I had forgiven myself. But I couldn’t fail Fairwitch Isle like I’d failed Arthon, Leena, all the rebels who were counting on me to do what I’d said I would. To destroy the brotherhood from within.
Somehow I’d do both. I would still find a way to overthrow the brotherhood, but first I had to take care of my home.
“We’re going to be late,” I said. “Let’s go.”
I marched past my brothers and toward the town hall, feeling so sure that today would be a starting point, an answer to all the problems we’d been experiencing.
If the people could just come together and have an honest, safe place to voice their concerns, a place where their leaders listened, we could make progress.
Aoife and I could make progress. I was sure of it. I just needed my wife to behave.
We approached the tall wooden building, tucked into the corner of Fairwitch Isle, our invisible barrier shimmering behind it. Thick cone-shaped trees covered the mountainside, and pine needles and cones snapped under our boots.
“What is that?” Cillian tilted his head.
“What?” I asked, gaze roaming the forest surrounding us for signs of a threat. But no, we were safe. I’d just checked the border a few days ago.
“Music,” Nevan said. “There’s music at the town hall?” he asked, nose wrinkling.
“Finally.” Cillian clapped his hand on my shoulder. “Lor is actually doing something fun. I’m rubbing off on you.”
“No you’re not.” I shook his hand from my shoulder, an ominous feeling rising in my gut.
“Too bad,” Cillian mumbled. “Music would’ve been nice.”
“There is music.” Wolfe pointed toward the building. “I hear it too.”
My jaw clenched as I stalked forward, feeling a whoosh of air over my head as my crown appeared. I’d learned Castle made the crown appear at official events.
I wrenched open the door, stopping short as my brothers bumped into me. The town hall I’d so carefully prepared for with seats for everyone, a raised dais for the council members, Aoife, and me, the podium for townspeople to stand at and raise issues—it was all gone.
Replaced by musicians on the stage, playing lively tunes I didn’t recognize while people danced. Tables lined the edge of the room, filled with food and goblets of wine.
Fargus flew toward me, landing on my shoulder. “I tried telling her this was a terrible idea,” he said, wings ruffling. “I tried, Your Majesty.”
Her. Only one person would’ve dared defy me, would’ve dared go behind my back.
This reflects badly on you. You’re not trying hard enough. You’re not enough.
“Oh, dancing.” Cillian waggled his brows.
“Thank the godwitches. This is going to be so much more fun than a town hall. Hey, this reminds me a bit of your wedding. That’s probably the last time you danced with your queen .
. .” Nevan elbowed Cillian, who cleared his throat as I exhaled through my nose, trying to breathe deeply and calm myself.
Cillian pressed his lips together. “I should probably go find my wife.”
Nevan raised a finger. “Me too.”
My gaze roamed the room as I searched for Aoife. “Me three,” I said. And when I did, I wouldn’t hold back.