Page 105 of Crown of Light and Ashes
Another Entry:
The pregnancy is really hard on me, but Kaan... I don't recognize him anymore. He's angry all the time. I can't do this.
Kaan's shadows grow more aggressive each day. Today, they lashed out when I mentioned the baby, leaving claw marks on the wall beside my head. He claims he can't control them anymore. I fear what will happen when he loses control completely.
A tear splashes onto the page before I realize I'm crying. I turn the page.
May the gods protect my poor, innocent child.
The entry ends there, the final line trailing off as if she'd been interrupted. The remaining pages are blank, waiting for entries that would never come.
The journal slips from my fingers, landing with a soft thud on the bed. Horror fills me as the truth becomes unavoidable.
Kaan killed her. And she was pregnant with his child.
Just as I am now.
The realization hits me with such force that I double over, wrapping my arms around my middle as if I can shield my unborn child from the terrible reality. Black spots dance at the edges of my vision as I struggle to breathe.
"Nesilhan," Banu says softly, her tiny hand coming to rest on my shoulder. There's an ancient wisdom in her eyes that reminds meshe's centuries older than she appears. "I'm so sorry. I didn't want to be right about this."
I can't speak. Can't breathe. Can't process the monstrous truth that the man I've grown to love—the father of my child—is capable of such an act. My mind rebels against the evidence before me, desperately searching for alternate explanations.
"Maybe…" I gasp. "Maybe he didn't kill her. Maybe he was trying to protect her. Maybe someone else…"
"Nesilhan." Banu's voice is gentle but firm. She assumes a posture of unusual authority. "You're an assassin. You know how to read between the lines. The truth is right there on those pages."
And she's right. The pattern is unmistakable, the conclusion inescapable. Kaan, facing the threat of a child who might fulfill a prophecy—a child who might undermine his power, who might change the world—chooses to eliminate that threat. Chooses power over love. Control over family.
"What do I do?" I whisper, my voice breaking. "Where can I go that he won't find me?"
Banu's wings flutter anxiously. "I've been thinking about that. The fairy realm might be our best option. Shadow magic can't penetrate our borders—even Kaan isn't powerful enough for that."
"The fairy realm?" I repeat numbly. "But humans can't survive there long term. The time distortion, the effects on human physiology…"
"It would buy us time," Banu argues, pacing in the air, moving back and forth before me. "Time to figure out a more permanent solution."
I shake my head, thoughts spinning wildly. "I can't believe this is happening. Just hours ago, I was imagining our future together—a family, a child, a life beyond hatred and court politics. And now..."
"I know," Banu says, her hand squeezing mine. "I'm so sorry, Nesi."
A terrible thought occurs to me. "Do you think he suspects? About my pregnancy? Is that why he left so abruptly in the garden today?"
"No. I don't think he knows," Banu says.
I stand on shaky legs, a new determination cutting through my despair. "I can't stay here," I say, moving to my wardrobe to pull out practical clothing. "I can't sleep beside him, knowing what he might do to our child. To me."
Chapter Twenty-Nine
The Shadow's Promise
Kaan
I ADJUST THE ceremonial collar with a scowl, irritated by the excessive formality required for tomorrow's court-wide announcement. The seamstress trembles as she attaches the final silver clasp, her fear perfuming the air with a scent I've grown to savor over centuries.
"Enough," I tell her, waving my hand dismissively. "It's adequate."
She bows so deeply her forehead nearly touches the ground before scurrying backward out of my chambers. I examine my reflection in the obsidian mirror, the traditional Shadow Lord regalia suits me, as it always does. Black and silver, designed to intimidate, to evoke both desire and terror. Tomorrow, when I declare Nesilhan as my equal in rule, not merely in name, the court will need this reminder of my power.
