Page 84 of A War of Three Kings

“Who tortured him and all our people!” Cyprien roars.

“Do you think I don’t know that?” I yell back. “Do you think I didn’t try everything I could for them?”I shake with the raw emotion pouring out of me.

“We need them, Cyprien.” Every muscle in Aldrin’s body is coiled tight and his lips are twisted downward. “And not just so Keira can walk her realm freely. If we open the portals between worlds, what will stop this mad king from bringing anarmy of humans into our court for his perceived retribution? He definitely won’t allow the trade or migration we need to fix the slow death of our realm. Think of the bigger picture.”

Cyprien grabs Aldrin by the shoulders and shakes him twice. “Theytorturedyou, Aldrin.” His voice breaks. “And I wasn’t here for you. I had no idea you needed me.”

My father strides over to us and glares at Cyprien, meeting him eye to eye. “Are we going to have a problem here?” he growls, pushing me behind him and showing a side of him I only see with his soldiers. “Are you in or are you out? Because in case you haven’t noticed, we have an army on our doorstep and cannot have division here on the battlements.”

“You could start with an apology to Aldrin, Father,” I grind out.

My father and Cyprien drag their burning eyes away from each other.

“An apology will do precious little to change what he has done,” Cyprien says, and I turn a dark look on him.

My father considers Aldrin for a long moment, then sighs. “I am sorry for the pain and suffering I inflicted on you and your people—that I did not see you for the man you are. I do not regret my actions, or the fact that I would dirty my hands to protect this realm and any woman in it from a fae kidnapping or invasion. For my daughter, there is no atrocity I won’t stoop to.”He turns the full intensity of his withering gaze on me, but my spine only straightens, and I raise my chin. “One day, Keira, I hope you have a willful daughter, and then you will understand the lengths to which you will go to protect her.”

My father turns on his heel and walks away, but stops to look over his shoulder at Aldrin.

“Don’t expect an apology from my mother, because you won’t get it. She has always fought viciously and unapologetically for her family.”

Cyprien suddenly pulls Aldrin toward him and crushes him in another fierce embrace. Aldrin presses his forehead against Cyprien’s, and I look away from the pure emotion on their faces. I don’t know how these two men were estranged for years.

My eyes flick to Hawthorne, who stands multiple paces away, out of the line of fire. He grimaces under my examination, and mouths the wordsorryat me, his shoulders hunched in. He must have been the one to let slip to Cyprien the way they were treated here.

“Cyprien, tell me the truth of it.” Aldrin’s voice pulls my attention back to him. “How bad is it back home? Titania’s reign. The corruption that is turning the edges of our land to ash and black voids. Are the low fae dying in larger numbers?”

Cyprien runs a hand over his face to wipe away the sheen of sweat that has formed there. “The High Chancellor has become even more ruthless now she believes you are as good as dead. Somehow, she knows you are in this realm and is convinced you cannot return without being slaughtered by the Assassins of Belladonna. She is so confident that you will not be returning that she has told the people you have been killed at their hand. Of course, she blames it on the Winter King.”

I shudder at the very thought, gripping Aldrin’s arm tightly. His scowl deepens, and his muscles tense under my fingers as he says, “She is a fool. The people will see her for the liar she is the moment I return to reclaim my throne. What of the corruption of the lands itself?”

Cyprien lets out a long breath. “The sight you showed me at the Dividing Cliffs at the border with Winter, near the Frozen River Fortress, hasn’t worsened. There are still huge rifts in the ground, filled with black voids where the matter of the realm has collapsed completely. The low fae still suffer the rot, but it hasn’t worsened. Titania has made it difficult for me to travel the realmto inspect other sites, but I suspect it will be the same. We still have time.”

A loud crack drags me back to the sight of the enemy just beyond the parapet.

The battlements tremble beneath my feet and a fine dust of mortar trickles out from the wall. I check that there are no more catapults about to fire, then glance down over the edge of the fortification. A large stone sits at the base of the fort, a pale dust imprint marking where it hit low on the wall.

A sinking feeling consumes me as I notice their catapults are nowhere near our missile range. Somehow their technology outranks ours. I glance at the wall of shields and the banners behind them, making out the crown on a purple background of the king’s army and the black viper on a white background of Lord Desmond’s forces.

There is one I do not recognize: a golden flame on a red backdrop. It tickles something in my memory, but I can’t place it. One thing I know for certain is that that banner does not belong to the houses of Strathia. Lord Desmond has commissioned mercenaries from another kingdom of this realm.

Both Aldrin and Cyprien join me, scrutinizing the view.

“Why hasn’t their army attacked yet?” I ask.

Aldrin points a long finger toward the left of their force. “They are building siege engines. These catapults are to prevent us from going on the offensive before they are ready. It will be days before they attack.”

My gaze follows the line of his finger, and suddenly my stomach bottoms out. I pull a spyglass out of the deep pockets of my skirts and take a closer look with trembling hands.

They have already erected the skeleton of a huge siege tower, tall enough to reach the lowest battlements. It sits on two rows of enormous wheels, a dozen in total, with ladders reaching into its rear.

I have read countless texts on warfare, and enough about siege engines to know the entire structure will be heavily shielded on three sides, protecting the people inside from arrows, with a long drawbridge at its top. They will bring the structure as close to the furrow as they can, then drop the bridge onto our battlements.It will function as a staircase up our wall, and enemy soldiers will stream out of it when it is in place.

My blood runs cold, but I cannot drag my eyes away.

There are other construction works around the siege tower—ladders to scale our walls and great shields that fifty soldiers could carry overhead while running toward the fortress. They erect bridges to span the furrow.

I suck in my breath and snatch the spyglass away. “Are we just going to sit here and wait for them to build weapons to use against us?”

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