Page 8 of Queen of Thorns
I roll my eyes. “Please, tell me what happened in the Crystal Court.”
The book hums in pleasure like a damn kitten, and then a few pages flip. My eyebrows furrow—he doesn’t usually show anything written when it’s only me.
I scootch in closer to the table.
An image sketches itself in black ink. It’s the inside of a temple, with statues and plaques on the wall, but it’s in ruins. The statue on the right lays in three pieces. The one in the middle is decapitated. Rubble is scattered all over the floor.
“What’s this?”
“An ancient Crystal Court place of worship. It is not currently in use, but it is a protected historical monument.”
“What happened to it?”
“A band of Shadow Court rebels destroyed it.”
My heart drops to my feet. Blood suddenly cold. “What?”
Shadow Court, as in my people. My court. My heart clenches, stomach roiling so hard that my knees buckle and I slump to the ground beside the table.
I know everything that is precious to you. And I will take it away bit by bit.
Rev
Ihold my head high, shoulders back, as I march into the meeting room. Ice drips from the ceiling like stalactites, causing flickers of light to scatter across the room. The walls are shiny—more ice—with a slight blue hue.
The High Queen sits on a cushioned armchair. Red light from the flickering fire bounces off her eyes. Her mate, a fae from the Glistening Court, sits to her right draped in furs, and the Queen of the Frost Court sits to her left. Before them are a few fae I don’t know—all Frost Court advisors.
“What’s this about?” I ask just before I take an empty seat beside the Frost Queen.
“The Shadow Court has attacked the Crystal Court,” the High Queen says. Her chin remains up, but she won’t meet my stare.
All I can hear is my pounding heart as I drop into my designated seat beside the High Queen. My mind races through all the implications of this news. The Shadow Court was once a strong, ruling court, but it is now weak and discarded. Its citizens have been openly angry about it, to the point of celebrating the death of the last High Heir—my brother. But they haven’t outright attacked any court in the five hundred years since they’ve lost power.
“The Shadow Court? Or a few rebels?” I ask calmly. There is a difference, though it may be small. The pit in my stomach grows.
“Rebels,” the Frost Court Queen says quietly. Her long white hair is braided down her back and her silvery blue eyes are soft. “But there is more.”
