What in all the realm of Celestae is it?!

Abomination,Saoirse snarls.

“Domhnall,” King Tiernan calls out to the creature.

The creature—Domhnall—retracts its insidious fingers, turning to the dais.

Domhnall.

I’ve heard that name before, from the Cadre.

Thisis the king’s right hand?

Surely this is a joke. However, considering the king just permitted his queen to attack me, I’m certain this is the Scythe of Zulgalros—the demon of the Abyss.

It’s no wonder!

His looks alone could make half the army wither and die from shock.

“Yesssssss Ssssiirreeee?” Domhnall asks.

“Would you kindly escort Miss Cale to the dais? She seems to be stuck to that spot on the floor. Perhaps she needs some extramotivation,” the king commands.

Domhnall bows his head. “As you wisssssh,” he replies.

Then his claw-like fingers wrap around my arm, yanking me forward. I must’ve flown because, in the blink of an eye, I’m standing a few feet away from King Tiernan and Queen Orla. The king’s white-knuckled grip on his throne is unsettling as he smiles at me.

“Now, that’s better,” King Tiernan says. Turning his gaze toward his creature, he dips his head. “Thank you, Domhnall. You may join me now and kindly release Maeva’s arm. We wouldn’t want it to be bruised from your grip before the Masquerade of Shadows, now would we?”

Domhnall hisses, releasing my arm. Then, as if he were one with the mist itself, he vanishes—reappearing at the king’s side. The pair of them are quite terrifying: a ruthless king and his bloodthirsty demon-creature. My sweaty palms grab the sides of my beautiful gown—now worse for wear after my encounterwith Orla.

“Now that I have your full attention, Maeva,” King Tiernan’s powerful voice booms across the expanse. “I require a rare artifact—a diadem—and I need you to retrieve it for me.”

I blink incredulously at the king.

He brought me here because he wants me to retrieve an artifact?

Well, if he simply desires more jewelry, perhaps I can appeal to his vanity and go back to Aurelius.

“I’ll reward you handsomely if you are successful?—”

“Forgive me, my king,” I interrupt. “But you already possess many beautiful jewels upon your crown and in your decor. Surely, you have no need for another to add your collection?”

His jaw ticks. “Are you refusing to obey?” he growls in a lower tone. The amber in his eyes glows as tendrils of shadow leak out from around him. Any kindness in his features is now gone as he glowers at me.

Siorai, save me.

“I apologize for my impertinence,” I say, bowing low. “I just can’t comprehend why I must be the one to retrieve it. Surely, you have servants that could fetch it for you, or perhaps the Cadre?”

“No,” he deadpans. “It must be you!” Then, he releases a breath, as well as his grip on the throne. His irritated features soften as the shadows retreat within him. “It must be you, my darling,” he whispers. “You’re the only one capable of finding it.”

I scoff incredulously. “The diadem?” I ask. “Is it not in a market somewhere?”

“It is not just a diadem, Maeva,” he chastises. “It’s an artifact as old as time itself—constructed by the god, Siorai. It’s called the Crògemma, the blood gem. I’ve searched for years with no success… until recently. I know of its whereabouts, but the Crógemma is protected by magic that can only be accessed by the one foreseen to awaken the Na Fìrèin. You’re my last resort, my darling.”

It must be very powerful if he desires it so badly. What power could this Crógemma possess that the king who commands the Drakhul wants it?

“What does the Crògemma do?” I ask.