Page 29 of The Crowned Fae Queen
With a slight pucker, I sigh and squeeze my eyes shut.I’m so tired. I’m so tired of always having to fight for my life.I open my eyes.
Rigs, his blade still pointing toward the girl, watches me. His lips are parted like he is prepared to speak but lost the words or the will to say them. His eyes reflect that of all the other guards. Surprise. But more than that, it’s fear. Fear that if the plague doesn’t take them, their king and queen will.
Every single gaze rests upon my shoulders, waiting for me to set an example of what kind of Queen I will be. What kind of Queen I am.
Who are you, Syren Hakan? You aren’t Syren Stormson anymore. You aren’t that girl who was unloved by her father and breaking rules to hurt his name. You aren’t that girl who lived deserted on that island anymore.
You’re a water fae. No, you’re a fucking water witch.
Above all, you are now a fucking queen.
The only question is, how will you rule?
9
Just a Child
Syren
It would be the easy choice to add just one more body to the masses. Easier yet because she had been a threat to my life. Still is, if I’m not careful.
Iri crouches low, embers burning at his back where his wings threaten to emerge and tear through the flowing white shirt. Sparks bounce off his fingertips and die at his feet in the snow. He curls his fingers into his palms, his magic calming.
With a snarl tearing at his lips, he grabs the assassin’s face and drags her to him. “I will laugh as you cry out in pain. I’ll bring out my finest wines and raise my glass while you wither away to ash.”
Suggest that we keep her for questioning,Iri urges me.
His fingers sink into the strands of her braided hair, and he pulls her nearer the fire. She drops her hand from her eye, shying away from the heat. Tears visibly fall down her cheeks in silence. A whimper escapes her as Iri leans her close enough to the fire that the heat scorches her cheek but doesn’t begin to engulf her.
“What will your final thoughts be when the inferno takes you?” He glances slowly from the girl to me then back to the girl, all the while keeping his face trained with an evil grin.
Go ahead, Syren. Make the call, Syren. Do as he says, Syren.
“Should we test your arm first, assassin? See what kind of noises you make when you’re writhing in pain? Hmm?” With one hand, he yanks the girl's arm above her head.
Syren, I’ll burn her alive now if you don’t say anything. Is that what you truly want?
I run a trembling hand over my face. Shadows darken all of our features, making the fire look even more sinister.
He lowers her arm toward the flame until it licks against her skin. Her pink lips part in an agonizing scream.
For a split second, the noise sparks a joy within me. I really do want to see her burn. But not really.
“Stop,” I whisper.
“What was that?” My husband’s dark eyebrows lift.
“Stop,” I say louder, though my voice still cracks.
Rigs lets go of the breath he was holding, his shoulders falling away from his ears, the sword’s point tilting toward the ground.
Iri pulls her arm back and lets her cradle it against her body. “You’re right. Why waste our time listening to her whine when we can get on with the real show?”
“We should take her to the dungeons. See what information we can get from her. Find out who sent her,” I sigh. Though I have an inkling of an idea who may have sent her. Who would want me dead? Probably starts with an A and ends with fucking -isha.
Wind tosses Iri’s dark strands across his face as he folds his arms over his chest. He narrows his eyes, letting his gaze pass between the assassin, Rigs, myself, and the other guard. Slowly, he blinks.
“My princess is wise when I’m careless. This assassin may be good from something other than our entertainment yet.” Iri stands silent for a minute before his bellow makes us all jump. “Well, guards! Take her away before I change my mind and burn her to a crisp.”
