Page 87 of Secrets and Starlight

I nodded, and hand in hand, we approached the desk, my magic swelling with each step as Zayne’s shadows faded away.

Except as we neared the box, my gaze landed on the parchment strewn beside it, worn and folded like it had traveled a long way. My stomach twisted with a new wave of doubt.

“I know that handwriting,” I whispered, leaning closer. “It’s my stepfather’s.”

Salutations Glaucous, King of Starlight

It’s with great relief that I learned of the fall of the shades. Congratulations on the success of your mission. At long last, we’re ready to act.

The rate you have requested is steep, but we will accept your offer, with a few modifications, of course.

The letter continued, detailing specifications for various fae goods. All of them weapons. The requests started with enough hand-to-hand weapons to outfit several elite troops. And it went on, asking for specialized equipment from siege craft to poisons and ways to rot enemy food supplies. It listed everything a southern kingdom, like Grayson’s homeland, would need to expand. I scanned the items over, my eyes narrowing on the final paragraph.

For reasons previously discussed, we are willing to pay an extra fee for discretion.

Regards,

Grayson, King Consort of Valterra

Fifth born prince of Herita

I stilled. “He’s going behind my mother’s back to order weapons. I’d bet anything they’re so his brothers can rage war on their neighbors.” The southern kingdoms were nothing like Valterra, where natural formations isolated the kingdom.

Zayne frowned. “Weapon dealing would give the Starlit King influence over the southern kingdoms.”

My mind raced, recalling all that the Starlit King had told me the first day. “My mother’s illness. Is it related?”

“I don’t know.”

Suspicion pitted in my stomach. If Grayson would go behind my mother’s back to order weapons, how far was he willing to go?

Furious, I stepped closer to the starlit box—

Zayne grabbed my arm, forcing me to look at him and pinning me under his wild gaze. Too many emotions raced through me. Alarm and rage fought against fear and frustration, each demanding more space.

Zayne probed the bond, trying to understand them all. “We can still leave,” he whispered.

The promise of his words should have stung, at complete odds with what I saw. The Starlit Throne, this letter, and the shards. We had responsibilities.

Except, the way Zayne said it, his hopes filling the bond, I remembered a lagoon where the stars shined bright overhead, and he held me as dawn threatened the horizon. It was beautiful. And I wanted that with him.

“But if we stop now, what sort of future could we have?” I asked.

He didn’t answer. His silence said enough.

No matter where we hid, biding our time until the throne compelled me, our friends and families would remain threatened. The lives of countless civilians from several kingdoms were at risk.

I searched Zayne’s gaze and sought out his hand. “I want to try.” Now, more than ever, I needed to seize power from the Starlit King. “But if you really think we should just leave, I’ll go with you.”

He wrapped his fingers around mine and squeezed. He glanced at the box. “I really think you’re able to do this.” Confidence flooded the bond.

“Me too.”

“Good.” He indicated the wall beside us. “I’ll watch from where the shadows are thicker, ready to step in if necessary.”

“Okay.”

It’s time.

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