Page 120 of Destined for the Fae King

I do. She bows her head to me and then retreats to her seat. I turn toward the deathly quiet assembly, searching for Lysandir as I do. I find him almost immediately, standing near the front and just off to the side. He beams with pride, Tharin at his side.

Breath catches in my throat as I notice those near him—Selena, my aunt and uncle just behind her. And they actually look happy—joyful. Several of the other women from The Choosing are around them. Grace, Alex, Adeline, and Cora. Zoe and Gabriella returned to Earth with promises to visit again soon. Katherine… Well, she said nothing about returning, and I wouldn’t be surprised if I never see her again. Tears threaten at the sight of so many people there for me, but Selena gives me two thumbs up, and a little laugh slips out instead. It’s lost amid the cheers that rise from those assembled. The wave of their support is the highest high, a swell of encouragement that could lift the most dejected soul.

When the cheers slow, Lysandir ascends the dais, takes my hand in his, and kisses the back of it. That sends another round of whoops and applause ringing out. With all the joy filling this room, one might never know their king had just died, that the ceremonial burning of his body and sending on of his soul is still to take place later today.

But maybe people need something to cheer for in the hard times.

Lysandir speaks to the crowd, recounting his brother’s loss, his ascension as king, and choosing of me as his queen. He pledges to defend the court and its people, to lead with honor and dignity.

“For our court to be strong and prosper, we must be united toward its security and the well-being of its people. To that end, I ask my brother’s counselors to continue their great service to us and to acknowledge their pledge to that end before the members of the court assembled here today.” He waves a hand toward his brother’s closest advisors where they stand in a line at the front of the crowd. The fae cannot lie. And they will either confirm their innocence and loyalty or condemn themselves for all to see.

This is the plan, the trap. They all assembled for my anointment, but no one save Tharin, Elaine, and I knew about this part. If anyone were to leave now, it would be an admission of guilt in itself.

Lysandir gives them words to recite, and they do, one after another. Most are eager to do so.

Captain Avara advances next and drops to one knee at the foot of the dais. “I pledge that I have never sought to harm the Court of Fire, the royal family, or any of our treasured human friends and never shall. I will serve to the best of my ability and work for the safety and prosperity of the Court of Fire.”

Eventually, only Memnon is left.

I’ve watched him squirm, gaze darting, shifting his stance, pulling at the collar of his tunic. It’s as much an admission as anything, and maybe I’m a horrible person, but I savor watching the noose slowly draw tight around his neck.

He drops to one knee before the king. “I pledge that I have always worked for what I believe to be the best for the Court of Fire and I will continue to do so.”

Lysandir crosses his arms and stares down at him. “Those are not the words I asked for.”

“My King.” He bows lower, nearly placating himself upon the ground. “I have always advised and sought what I thought was best for the Court of Fire, and I pledge to do the same for you.”

“Still not what I asked of you. Let’s try something else.” His voice has lost some of its calm.

The trap is sprung, and the culprit on the edge of admitting their guilt.

“Can you swear that you had no involvement in the plotting or act of killing one of my brother’s potential brides?” Lysandir asks.

A collective gasp echoes through the crowd. Cries of disbelief ring out, even a sob, and I can’t help but wonder if someone from Bailey’s family is here.

I hold my breath, pulse pounding.

“I—” Memnon start. “My king, I—”

“Can you not deny it? If you can, this is your last chance.”

Guards move in from the edges of the dais. There’s no escape. Memnon could shift, I suppose, but he’d be the most wanted person in the entire court. Even the Unseelie lands would hold no sanctuary for a traitor who killed an innocent human—an act abhorred by all fae.

“Action was necessary. The Unseelie were growing in power and needed to be stopped!” Memnon’s voice rises in a fervor. “The king failed to act to stop them. He let them continue to amass, and see what happened?” He gestures wildly. “The Unseelie King was able to break down our wards and attack our court in the middle of the night. They took us unawares and killed many, including our king!”

Murmurs rise throughout the crowd. Lysandir steps to the edge of the dais and frowns down at the advisor below him.

“They attacked because we moved against them first—killed their innocent in retaliation for what we believed wastheir killing of the king’s favored. I was there.” He looks up at the crowd, speaking to them. “I saw the acts we committed, ones that I would have avenged just as their king sought to do.Wewere wrong. The Unseelie did not commit the atrocity against us. They have attacked us in the past, yes, but with purpose, not the indiscriminate violent wrath that we inflicted on them. And the cause? The spark that ignited such fury?” He points an accusing finger at Memnon. “Treason from within. The murder of a human, one who the king favored, who would have been his bride, his queen. And you knew it.”

Memnon shoves to his feet and snarls toward Lysandir. “Ruling requires action. Sacrifice! I did what was necessary!”

“You murdered an innocent and brought war to us.”

Avara pulls her sword and advances. The guards close in. But Lysandir waves them to a halt.

“You’re right about one thing,” Lysandir says. “Ruling sometimes does require action and sacrifice. Let it be seen and known that I will abide no harm against innocents in my court.”

Lysandir’s gaze hardens as he lifts an open palm toward the former advisor.

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