Page 118 of A Queen This Fierce and Deadly

Smoke curled into the air from the campfires in the distance. The Cursed City sprawled out to our left as we walked along the coast. Rounding the western edge of the city, I held my breath as I approached the guards stationed at the entrance.

Instinctively, I reached for my power. But the guards bowed their heads to Orivan, who swept past them with a nod. I kept my own head down, expecting one of them to yell out at any moment.

But…what were the chances most low-level guards would accuse the Eprothan king of duplicity? Would accuse one of Zathrian’s trusted generals of leading his enemies into their camp?

From the incredulous look on Galon’s face, it was clear he would have expected exactly that from any soldiers he had trained.

I caught up to the others, still trailing behind them. “I hope you are everything Blynth and Tymriel said, Nelayra Valderyn,” Orivan murmured.

“I don’t know what they said about me, but I promise I will prove myself to you,” I said, keeping my voice barely above a whisper.

He gave a sharp nod. We rounded one more corner, where a huge training arena sprawled across the landscape. Zathrian stood next to that arena, Eadric by his side.

My heart kicked in my chest, my blood turned to ice, and the world receded as I stared at my cousin.

Eadric took one look at Lorian and raised his hand, stabbing his finger toward him.

“Lies,” he hissed.

Zathrian’s eyes met mine. And he grinned.

19

Madinia

While Conreth was undisputedly the king of the fae lands, his kingdom was divided into territories. And the island of Quorith was ruled by Verdion. I’d learned all I’d needed to know of Rythos’s father at the fae summit. He was a ruthless, bitter man who refused to cooperate, comply, or concede power—all because his family hadn’t been chosen to guard one of the three fae amulets gifted to them by the god Tronin so long ago.

According to the little Rythos had told me while we traveled to the island, while Verdion was the ultimate authority of Quorith, he still answered to a council. If every member of that council unanimously agreed, their votes could override him.

Unfortunately, Verdion was so determined to stay out of this war that he had refused to even take the evidence to his council. And I was betting he hadn’t told them about his little deal with Regner. He’d been willing to break Quorith’s own laws in order to disregard Conreth’s wishes.

Spare me from these powerful men and their ancient grudges.

Prisca had once told me that Rythos and Verdion did not speak. All she had said was that Verdion was threatened by his son, even though Rythos had no intention of fighting him for power.

Sounded similar to a certain fae king we all knew.

I glanced at Rythos. While Cavis had been the kindest to me, Rythos had been a close second. Right now, however, he was lost in grim silence, his gaze on the blurry, warded island in front of us as our small boat was rocked by the waves.

Perhaps a distraction that could also help with my own curiosities was warranted. “Do you know anyone pure of heart?” I asked him.

Surprise flashed across his face.

“What exactly does that mean?”

“I don’t know,” I admitted. “Probably someone who doesn’t enjoy killing bad people.”

“You know,” he said, running his hand over his face, “I don’t think I do. That probably says a lot about the people I surround myself with.”

I couldn’t help but smile at that. Rythos raised his eyebrows, and I turned it into a scowl.

“Why do you need someone pure of heart?”

“Daharak’s weapon.” I explained the orb to him, even taking it out of my pocket. “You seem…nice. Occasionally.”

He just shook his head at me. “Not nice enough for that.”

I sighed, tucking it back into my cloak pocket and returning my attention to the island. “Verdion has been alive for a long time, I’m assuming.”

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