Page 131 of A War of Three Kings

I take a seat beside my father. “Did you even sleep last night?” I give his ruffled hair and crumpled clothes a pointed look.

“Somewhat,” he replies gruffly. “Is there more coffee where that came from?”

I sigh and walk out of the small room to ask one of the guards on the door to request coffee and breakfast from the kitchens. When I return, I truly look at my father. There are shadows in his troubled eyes and his skin is incredibly pale.

“It’s not easy reading, is it?” I murmur. “Not when we humans have held the conviction for generations thatwewere the righteous victims. That the fae were horrible monsters thatnever belonged in our realm. It proves that there is good and evil in all races, and the former always greatly outweighs the latter.”

“Yeah. And the little detail that for the last five hundred years, we humans have been the aggressors.” He runs a hand through his hair. “I regret the way I treated Aldrin and the other fae when I found them in this realm.” There is so much emotion in his eyes, and he is about to say more, but approaching footsteps draw our attention.

“I am glad to hear it,” Aldrin grumbles as he sits at my other side.“It’s a fucking start, at least.”

“I still think it is lacking. He tortured you, for gods’ sake,” Cyprien snaps. My father flinches. “Why does everyone conveniently forget about that?”

“What are you reading, Edmund? It must be powerful.” Aldrin leans across the table, tone taunting.

My father takes my coffee and drinks a long swig of it, almost completely draining the cup.

“I went to the kitchens for that!” I protest.

“I need it more than you do.” He sits back in his seat. “I am reading a text calledThe Descent into the Great War. It starts by depicting the black-market trade of fae flesh. Not only was it utterly gruesome, with fae locked in pens awaiting their fate and their cellmates butchered like cattle right before them, but the ruling class of humans did nothing to stop this trafficking. The king himself secretly encouraged it. When the fae took matters into their own hands, the Great War broke out.”

He drums his fingers on the tabletop before continuing.

“The fae themselves were not completely innocent, and a minority had gained the reputation for the whole when they went berserk over a human, claiming her as theirs and dragging her back to their realm. Often these fae would kill the human’s family and anyone else who got in their way.”

Aldrin scratches at his stubble. “Tensions had reached a boiling point right before the war broke out, and instead of these issues being policed correctly on either side of the veil, prejudices festered instead.”

My father flicks through the pages to find a specific chapter. “Right here was the most eye-opening part for me. When a specialized fae force entered the human realm to take down the flesh trade by whatever means possible, it was a spark on dry kindling that set the entire kingdom on fire. But the war wasn’t fae versus human like our histories would have us believe. It was messier, with multiple forces and both races fighting on either side. The separatists who wanted the portals closed against those who didn’t.”

I keep nodding at his words, despite how they dredge up the pain of the Living Memory Scrolls I witnessed in the library of Aldrin’s palace.

“You already knew this?” my father asks me, his eyebrows shooting up.

“The royal library in Aldrin’s court is open to all,” I say gently.

“And you didn’t tell me?”

“I tried. You weren’t ready to hear it and wouldn’t believe a word from my mouth. That is why these texts and scrolls are so important. Our people can’t dismiss them.”

My father’s expression shutters at that truth.

“What else is in there?” Aldrin probes. “We have very little in my library from the human perspective.”

My father shakes his head. “It’s not a flattering account of Strathia. The human king had no power of his own, and he was jealous of the fae’s magic to the point of hatred. Their superiority of power was a threat to him, and he wanted to rid these lands of fae. He declared war as an excuse for the mass slaughter of fae, in many cases locking in those who tried to flee by placinggreat armies before the main portals. The king thought that all those fae bodies could be sown into the land and consumed by the people, and it would give us humans all the magic we needed to power our technology. It worked, for a few generations.”

A heaviness hangs over my soul as we remain silent, each lost in our thoughts.

The cracking of Cyprien’s knuckles is the only sound until he finally breaks the silence. “What is the plan here, with these texts?”

“We read and witness enough of them to get an understanding of the topics they cover,” I begin, “then create bundles for the priestesses to bring to each lord’s manor or castle or war camp. Each bundle needs to cover the fae flesh trade, the truth of the Great War, and hopefully an account of fae and humans living peacefully together.”

“I think this scroll in particular will help you with that.” My grandmother’s voice is hoarse. When I turn to her, I am shocked by the tears that roll down her face.

“Naomi, you are not crying over suffering fae, are you?” Aldrin asks with mock scandal, and she gives him a hard look.

I pull my chair out from the table and approach her, eyeing the scroll as if it is a viper on the table. Grounding myself with a deep breath, I place a shaky hand over that living memory.

I stand within the body of a much taller fae man, inspecting the orchards at Appleshield Castle, gazing at the most beautiful woman I have ever seen, her black hair rippling down to her waist. Fionola.

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