Page 21 of Crown of Ashes and Desire

I poured myself a glass of aged brandy, downing it in one swallow in a futile attempt to burn away the memory of her expression. The pain I inflicted had been calculated—a counterbalance to my obvious defense of her. I couldn’t allow anyone, least of all cousins, to believe I harbored feelings beyond possession.

But as the liquor burned its way down my throat, memories surfaced unbidden—memories I had spent years trying to bury…

Hakan

Six Years Ago

The parchment crumpled in my fist when I read Levent’s formal challenge for the third time, my shadows responding to my fury by darkening every corner of my study. The bastard had timed this perfectly, questioning Ada’s fitness to rule just as her father’s light continued to fade, when doubt could destabilize everything she’d worked toward.

“Lady Ada’s judgment has been compromised by her association with shadow magic and its practitioners. With His Majesty’s light dimming, we cannot afford uncertainty about our next ruler…”

My first instinct was to crush him. One word from me, and Levent would find his business ventures mysteriously failing, his allies abandoning him, his very name whispered with fear throughout both realms. I’d spent years building my reputation as a shadow lord to be reckoned with—not through birthright alone, but through sheer determination and political cunning.

That power could solve this problem in a matter of days.

But as my rage peaked, Ada’s face flashed through my mind—not as she’d look grateful for my intervention, but as she’d appear devastated that her uncle’s accusations held even a grain of truth. That her love for me had cost her the crown she deserved.

I’d visited her father just days before, seen how his once-brilliant light had dimmed to barely more than candle flame. The great Gün Ata, who had ruled the Light Court for centuries, was preparing for his eventual ascension to a higher realm, though that remained uncertain. Which meant Ada needed to be ready to take his place, and Levent was using this uncertain transition period to strike at her most vulnerable moment.

I set the letter down carefully and forced my shadows to recede. Ada didn’t need me to fight her battles. She needed me to ensure they fought fairly.

The study door opened without ceremony—only one person would dare enter uninvited when my magic was this agitated.

“Well,” Sarp drawled, and surveyed the frost covering my bookshelves, “someone’s in a delightful mood. Should I come back when you’re less likely to accidentally freeze me solid?”

“Levent’s challenging Ada’s succession.” I slit the letter across my desk. “Now. While her father’s light fades and the realm is most vulnerable.”

Sarp read it quickly, his expression growing darker with each line. “Pompous bastard. Though I have to admire the timing, right when the Council has to make succession decisions without Gün Ata’s full guidance.”

“I’m going to destroy him,” I said flatly.

“Obviously,” Sarp agreed, then paused. “Wait. You said that too calmly. What are you planning?”

I leaned back in my chair, the decision crystallizing when I spoke. “I’m going to submit myself to the Light Court judgment. Publicly. Under truth magic.”

The silence stretched for a full ten seconds before Sarp started laughing—not his usual sardonic chuckle, but full-bodied, genuine amusement.

“Oh, you’re serious,” he realized when I didn’t join in. “Hakan, that’s—no. Absolutely not. Do you have any idea what that would mean?”

“It means Levent can’t claim Ada’s judgment is compromised without proof,” I replied. “It means the Council can examine my intentions directly rather than relying on fear and prejudice.”

“It means every political enemy you’ve made will see you at your most vulnerable,” Sarp countered, his amusement evaporating. “Light magic truth-telling doesn’t just reveal lies—it exposes everything. Every thought, every motivation, every moment of doubt or weakness.”

“Good,” I said. I surprised us both with my vehemence. “Let them see. Let them know exactly how I feel about Ada, about this alliance, about everything. The truth is the only thing that will satisfy the Council when they’re deciding the realm’s future.”

Sarp stared at me as if I’d sprouted a second head. “The Shadow Lord who built his reputation on calculated mystery wants to bare his soul to his enemies. For a woman.”

“Not for a woman.” I stood up and moved to the window where I could see the Light Court’s crystalline spires gleaming in the distance. “For the woman I love. For her future. For her happiness.”

“And if they find you unworthy? If the Light Court decides your very nature compromises her?”

The question hit deeper than I’d expected, striking at fears I hadn’t fully acknowledged. What if they were right? What if loving me truly did damage Ada’s chances at the crown she deserved?

“Then I’ll walk away,” I said quietly. “If that’s what’s best for her, I’ll walk away and never look back.”

“Hakan—”

“Ada’s light deserves to shine,” I continued, my voice strengthening. “Even if it means I can’t stand beside her.”

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