Page 45 of Merciless Is My Crown

Something having to do with me being hurt.

Not me, specifically, because Tristan hardly cared about me, but something had broken inside him, opened up a gateway to some awful memory or a loss he couldn’t face.

I knew nothing about Tristan, except he was rich.

A High Fae Lord, much like Tavion.

But I remembered his face that day when the king had given him back his family estate, his title. That moment had been pivotal for him. Getting his home back had meant everything.

I was almost to my room when catlike footsteps padded behind me, my mother appearing from the darkness, arms wrapped around her middle. “We have to talk,” was all she said before pushing past me into my dark, cold bedroom. I’d chosen a room at the end of the hall, one that was long abandoned, but I’d wanted to be alone tonight.

Far enough from everyone for this quiet to seep into my bones.

Quiet where I could actually think for once.

It had been too long since I’d had an opportunity to think. To weigh our decisions—many of them rash—and choose the best option, now that our backs were against the wall.

Winning was a game.

A brutal, bloody, deadly game.

The world—the three known realms—were the chessboard.

I’d planned on spending this evening figuring out which moves put us closer to victory and further away from death. Instead, I’d be listening to my mother rationalize her schemes. Regret became a dead weight inside me. I’d dreamed for so long of having a mother…but not like this.

“Make this fast, Adele. I’m exhausted and we should all get some sleep.”

I followed my mother into the room, not bothering to light a candle or the logs in the grate. I didn’t plan on this conversation lasting long and a fire…well, that would only invite her to stay.

“You must leave the archer behind when we leave for the High Barrens in the morning. He’s weak and unstable and not at all reliable.”

I wanted to snort out a laugh and toss her out of this castle.

But exhaustion—and my sobering conversation with Lucius—tamped down enough of my anger. I only looked at her. “I see you’ve been planning what to say since we passed through the portal. I’ll have you know, Tristan is the one who killed Solok. Shot an arrow straight through his eye.”

I peeled off my leather jacket. It had been on me for so long it stuck, the strong scent of body odor wafting up to meet me when I tossed the thing on the foot of the bed.

“These males you think are so important…they are nothing. You have the power, Anaria. It is yours. Sharing will only weaken you unless you learn to guard your heart, keep your secrets, and never let them in.” She scanned my face with an air of cool superiority. “If I had been around to raise you, I would have taught you such things.”

Well, thank the gods you weren’t, I wanted to say but bit my tongue.

She nodded to the tree branded into my arm. “That mark guarantees you the title of High Priestess if you are strong and cunning enough to claim it.”

A shiver walked down my spine at the greed slithering through Adele’s voice, her willingness to sacrifice me to the gods of power. And still, even with all of that, my eyes dipped to her ruined fingers, her skeletal body and a wave of pity crashed through me.

“I have no desire to sit on any throne. Power has never appealed to me, except for one reason…the good I can do.” I pressed my lips together. “I spent most of my life without enough to eat. I was cold and hungry and afraid. Creating a world where those things don’t exist…that is the only thing power is good for.”

“You don’t change the world unless you’re seated on a throne,” Adele countered. “Change has a cost, and sometimes that means doing the dirty work and wearing a crown you despise in order to wield it.”

“And sometimes power is not allowing others to manipulate you to their own ends,” I countered softly. “I spent my whole life at other people’s mercy. I know how easily cruelty can be disguised as kindness, how benevolence is rooted in greed.”

Adele’s blue eyes flashed. “Don’t you dare lecture me. I gave up everything to bring you into this world and give you a chance at greatness—the chance I never had. Everything.”

I swallowed because she wasn’t wrong.

But we’d all sacrificed pieces of ourselves, and none of us were bitching about how much we’d suffered or what we’d lost. But I couldn’t get past my pity. Not for her but for everything she went through, for how she’d been forgotten by the very people who were supposed to protect her.

“What would you have me do, then?” I kept my tone even, having no energy for another fight, not after what happened with Tavion.

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