Page 33 of A War of Three Kings

The guards watching bite off derogatory curses toward the fae beneath their breath. Before I have a chance to lose my temper at the ungrateful fools, Gwyneth turns on Silvan.

“This is impossible!” She stalks toward him as he watches her with arms crossed. “You’re playing games with us!”

“Have you not learned how to move faster today?” Silvan bites out. “To use wields to help you slide across hard surfaces or enhance the height of your jump?”

Gwyneth points a finger at him. “You are sabotaging us!”

“You need to learn to anticipate. To tug the objects back out of my grasp. An enemy won’t play fair.” Silvan turns his back on her and picks up a sand timer. “Start again,” he growls.

Gwyneth eyes the timer, then Silvan.

“You are losing time,” he mocks.

I raise an eyebrow at him. Silvan simply cocks his head to one side as he considers me. There is not a hint of guilt on his face. We stand there in silence while he tracks Gwyneth’s progress as she starts the course.

Instead of watching her leap and slide through the hurdles, I examine Silvan.

His expression is stone cold, but as Gwyneth progresses, cursing and grunting, a small smirk grows on his lips. His fingers twitch a few times and the sound of shifting hay follows, then the rattle and crash of the captain hitting the pavers.

I grab Silvan’s arm and pull him to the side. He looks at me, unblinking, and not the least bit sorry.

I sigh. “You are setting them up to fail, aren’t you? Making them look like fools.” I get it. I absolutely do. They locked him up, tortured him, and now he is offering them help without asking for anything in return, and they don’t even offer him basic respect.

“Perhaps a little. It is far too easy. Like teasing a child.”

I run a hand across my eyes. “Silvan, I need them trained. I understand you are angry. Your resentment is justified. Since you have come here, you have only been mistreated by my people, but I am trying to change that. I need you. I need all of you, and I am trying to fight for you.”

“Are you?” Silvan’s dark eyes bore into mine. “I haven’t seen any of your family being trained by fae. How do you think it looks to your people when you won’t even speak to Aldrin? No. They won’t accept us until you do.”

I draw in a ragged breath, then glance over at Aldrin. Where do I even begin? He is talking intently with Aiden, trying so hard to get the man on side. The sight sets a deep ache within my heart.

How could I deserve a man like that?

“I will try if you do.” My words come out choked, and Silvan grumbles his agreement.

I pull him back toward the obstacle course and speak loud enough for the guards to hear. “I haven’t had the chance to thank you for choosing to remain in this realm to protect my freedom. This is not your war, but you have decided to fight it anyway. To help empower us, when you owe us nothing.” I turn to the watching guards. “I guarantee that Silvan’s training will save many of your lives on a battlefield.”

So many of those hostile expressions slip. I throw myself into a hug with Silvan to prove that this fae isn’t as alien and scary as they seem to think.

He stiffens and tries to pull away, but I hold tight until he pats me awkwardly on the back.

“Go easier on them,” I whisper. “It’s not their fault that they haven’t had the training you’ve had. I need them, too. If you want to be angry with someone for your treatment here, blame my father. Blame me. We can take it.”

Silvan turns back to his students and launches into a lecture on how to use the methods he has plagued them with on an enemy. He sets them up in teams against each other, one to sabotage and the other to resist while they complete the course.

We might actually pull this off.

If we can access the inhibited magic within each of us, it could save us. Not just in this war. Our way of life has been under threat for generations because our magic is fading. Without it, this kingdom could be thrust back into the dark ages, with famines as our farming with magic fails, and great plagues when we can no longer heal.

This has been our justification for the horrendous crime our pilgrims commit against the fae, but they will no longer be necessary if we have the untapped power we need already inside ourselves.

My mood slips despite the flicker of hope. These soldiers are going to war for my freedom. Because I couldn’t sacrifice myself to Finan. How many families are going to lose a parent, a child or a sibling so I can live my life as I choose?

A deep sorrow fills me, expanding within my chest until I think I will explode from the grief. The only thing that allows me to put one foot in front of the other without crumbling is the possibility that Prince Niall is right, and Finan will balk the moment he is presented with an opposing army.

“No. No. NO! I told you to move the branches, not the roots,” Drake bellows over the crowd. “Do you even know one end of a tree from another?”

I spin on my heel and rush over to him. Both Drake and an archer from our army’s reserve lean over a large potted tree the former dragged in from one of the orchards for his demonstration.

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