Page 25 of A Reign of Roses
Wyn bared his teeth in a way that told me the pain in his knee was worsening. These hallways were endless—winding and rife with dizzying mirrors and hidden passageways. And those ornate ceilings with their arches and fine molding so, so high—all of it, built to inspire vertigo and aching, restless eyes.
“The lighte he reaps fuels everything,” Wyn said with a wince. “This city. This palace. His mercenaries. His weaponry. The entire Lumerian war machine.”
“But he drains me even though he needs me full of lighte to conceive. He must needmylighte specifically.”
“You’re full-blooded. Your lighte is more potent than anyone’s, other than his.”
Hadn’t Kane told me many Fae and mortals alike in Solaris had become addicted to lighte once they’d begun to intake more than their body made? Had Lazarus become dependent on it? I was the only other full-blooded Fae alive. Maybe he needed my lighte to support his own.
Hewasweak. That must’ve been it. Why he wouldn’t allow me even enough lighte to conceive.Hecouldn’t produce an heir, either.
“Wyn…”
But Wyn’s grimace told me what his next words confirmed. “Enough questions for today.”
“Just one—”
“Ican’t.”
I stopped in my tracks.
Wyn winced as he did the same, rubbing at his leg. His greaves were still wet where he’d knelt on that slick marble.
Of course he couldn’t discuss this with me. Physically, mentally—I thought our burgeoning friendship might actually be killing the kingsguard.
And it was foolish of me as well. Hadn’t I learned my lesson? I had no allies here. Someone was always listening, always ready to use you or your vulnerabilities against you. I couldn’t confide in Wyn. I was thoroughly alone.
“Right,” I said, my eyes finding the floor, my own reflection bloodred and warped. “I know.”
“I’m sorry, Arwen.” When I lifted my chin, Wyn stepped closer, eyes flickering with more sorrow, more guilt than I could stand. “Really. I am.” He grasped at his knee once more, grimacing.
“Stay still.” Before Maddox could notice, I knelt to the ground and pressed both my hands into Wyn’s lame leg. Eager lighte jumped from my fingertips, thrilled to dosomethingbefore it was ripped from my veins once again.
The cartilage beneath his armor was old and scarred, but with what little power I had, fresh muscle and sinew sprouted beneath my palms, reinforcing the weaker joints that had been sore for decades.
When the last meager drop of my power had permeated Wyn’s skin, I stood.
“What…” Wyn flexed the limb in disbelief. Bending the jointand redistributing his weight. When his eyes found mine again, they welled with tears. “Why did you do that?”
I swallowed against the emotion in my throat. “I couldn’t watch you limp anymore.”
“Yeah.” He held my eyes with quiet intensity. “You could have.”
The words felt familiar to me, though I couldn’t place them. But the memory faded as we walked back in silence to my gilded, velvet prison.
7
Kane
By the time my bootstouched Shadow Woods soil I wasn’t surprised to find tawny leaves and a pleasant chill in the air. Crisp and clear, scented with rain-soaked moss and fresh soil. Arwen would have loved the patchwork of russet, crimson, and bronze overhead—it would’ve reminded her of her mother, her childhood. In Amber, the trees shed vivid leaves like these year-round.
I’d arrived in time for one last sunny autumn day before winter blanketed my keep. Summer had slipped away while I’d been freefalling through both snow and unending grief, and I’d made it back just in time for the tail end of the season that conjured my murdered—
Get a hold of yourself. You can’t rage at the seasons.
The luftalvor loosed a low grunt and cocked its pink snout at me. His eyes softened with something I couldn’t place. Perhaps it was pity. I offered the creature a benign pat on his rump, and with a snuffle the woolly, winged white ox took off into the skies above.
His wings flapped against bright, clear blue.
