“If you ever lay a hand on me again, I’ll make sure that it’s your head that rolls,” I snarl.
A slow clap reverberates around the expanse, giving me pause.
“Stupendous,” the king coos. “You truly carry the starlight ability within you.” He smiles to himself, unbothered by the fact that I still hold his queen in my grasp. “What a rare delight it is to have such a guest. You’re truly the one I’ve sought after for these ten long years. I just needed to know for sure.”
I blink rapidly. “I don’t understand,” I reply.
“Simple, my darling,” he says, pretending to remove lint from his tunic. “I gave you a test, and you passed by allowing your ability to shine through—gloriously, might I add.”
I release my hold on the queen, who shakily backs away from me before ascending the dais once more.
“You wanted me to attack her?” I inquire.
He waves a hand absentmindedly. “The queen, a servant—the Scythe, my general,” he murmurs. “It doesn’t matterwhoyou attacked, as long as I was able to see the ability you possess. Luckily, you played your role beautifully. So much anger burns within you, my darling. Why is that?”
I clench my jaw.
I could tell him it’s because I don’t remember my life before Aurelius.
I could tell him it’s because I miss the only family I’ve ever known.
I could tell him it’s because his sick captain slaughtered them all, following his orders.
I can’t say any of that though, because once the words begin to flow, they’ll never stop. It’ll be like a tidal wave, crashing onto the shores, leaving nothing but the truth in its wake.
The truth is too heavy a price to pay.
I hate King Tiernan and his Drakhul.
I hate his reign and laws.
I hate how he creates monsters out of good citizens that he backs into a corner—like me.
Like Emyr and the Cadre.
“Why don’t you tell me why I’m here, my king,” I retort. “Surely, you aren’t interested in my ability for parlor tricks.”
“HOW DARE YOU INSINUATE—” Queen Orla interjects, but she’s cut short when King Tiernan’s shadows snake around her mouth.
“You’ll speak only when I allow it, Orla,” he sneers. “I’ve let you have your fun, and as always, you’ve proven to be a disappointment.” He angles his hand with the onyx ring closer to his wife. In this lighting, it appears iridescent. Orla shakes her head, shrinking further into the throne.
Is he attempting to control her too?I wonder.
“Now, sit down and speak no more,” he commands. Queen Orla does as she’s told, sitting demurely on her throne, the vibrancy of her eyes dimming—almost in a trance-like state.
What did he do to her?
Granted, I’m more than grateful to not hear her grating voice, but this is something different entirely.
Calling his shadows back into himself, he turns his attention to me.
I stiffen, wondering if he will do to me whatever it is he just did to her.
A wide smile spreads across his face. “You’re a clever one, Maeva,” he says, reclining into his throne. He motions for me to move closer, but I can’t seem to move my feet from where I currently stand. “Come now,” his voice croons. “I won’t bite.” He’s maintaining that glistening smile that would make any other woman grovel at his feet.
When I still don’t obey, the king gives a low whistle.
Suddenly, the most terrifying creature appears in front of me. It wears a black cloak obscuring the view of its body that I am sure is just as hideous as its face. The creature is skeleton-like, but with rotting flesh and exposed tendons. It’s the eyes that are the most unsettling—blood red, and they don’t blink, as there aren’t eyelids to shield them. Itreaches a clawed, skeletal hand toward my face, attempting to touch me. Horrified, I move away from the creature’s outstretched hand.