Page 16 of To Wake a Kingdom

“So, you know? How to break a curse?”

“Bah! Not me. Whoever cast the curse. They’ll know.”

My jaw clenched as I summoned my patience. “No, she doesn’t know. It didn’t work the way she’d intended it, and now it seems to be…stuck.”

The man gave an exaggerated shrug of his shoulders, as if my problems were of little consequence. “I’m only telling you what I know. Ask her again. Make sure she isn’t holding out on you.” He resumed his work, pen scratching along his paper.

“Please.” I wasn’t above begging.

With an exasperated huff, he pushed himself from the desk and disappeared into the rows of shelves. A few minutes later, he appeared with a shiny leather book in his hands.

“Like I already said, those kinds of answers aren’t found in books. But if you insist on spending money in my store, don’t let me stop you.”

He handed me a thick volume titledCommon Magical Cures, and I paid him extra, despite his assurances I was wasting my time. Even if that were true, the idea of leaving empty-handed sat like a stone in my stomach.

After I was back outside, panic shimmered on the edges of my vision as I clutched the book to my chest. If this man was right, no one could help me, and I only had thirty days until Mare returned. It wasn’t enough time, though I got the sinking sense even a thousand years wouldn’t be enough. I pressed my forehead to Slumber’s saddle and let out a ragged breath.

Shouts rose then, drawing my attention to a large plaza where a crowd was gathering. Fists raised in the air, they seemed excited about something. I untied Slumber and pulled myself onto his back to gain a better view. The crowd had amassed around a wooden platform in the center.

On it stood two men dressed in black leather armor, chased with scrolling silver details. One had pure black eyes and silver hair the color of pewter, that hung to the middle of his back. His light brown skin appeared dusted with gold. The second man’s bright blue eyes and fiery red hair stood out against pale white skin that shimmered pearlescent in the sun.

As the silver-haired man turned his head, I noted the telltale pointed ears.Fae.The redhead smiled at the furious crowd, displaying a set of sharp white canines, and my stomach lurched. Something terrible was about to happen.

My fears were confirmed as a group of men were escorted through the crowd and led up onto the platform. Thin and dirty, their clothing hung in rags, and raw wounds covered almost every inch of exposed skin. Their hair had been ripped out in clumps, and their eyes bore the haunted emptiness that came from long periods of torment.

The two Fae smiled as the ten prisoners were pushed in a row to their knees, their hands tied behind their backs. The iron-haired Fae walked around the men, his gaze assessing, mouth set in a hard line. He was magnificent. Wide shoulders and narrow hips descended into powerful thighs, every inch of him hewn from muscle that flexed beneath his armor. The redhead was pandering to the crowd as if this were the daily entertainment.

I realized that was exactly what it was.They chanted, their fury mounting to a point of explosion. The redhead raised his arms and, suddenly, every voice in the square went quiet.

At that moment, I noticed a small group of soldiers in the corner, dressed in similar armor as the Fae, though they were all human. Their ears were round, their skin absent of the same ethereal luminescence. Their demeanor spoke of authority and confidence, though a guarded wariness flickered in their eyes as they watched the Fae, hands never leaving the swords at their hips. I got the sense they were here to keep order, even if they weren’t entirely sure how.

“For crimes of treason against His Majesty King Winston Avery Hammond Goldraven, these men are hereby sentenced to death!” shouted the silver-haired Fae, and my attention returned to him, forehead wrinkled. Who was this king? The name Goldraven was familiar, though I couldn’t recall why.

The redheaded Fae raised his arms again, and this time, the crowd roared in ecstasy. Dozens more soldiers filed into the square, standing near exits as the Fae finally turned their sharp attention on the trembling prisoners.

“Liar!” one man on the platform shouted, his voice raw but impassioned. “Liar!” he said again with more force. “You are liars, and your king is a liar—”

His protest was silenced as his body cleaved in two, splitting right down the center from the top of his head to his groin. He collapsed on the platform in a mass of blood and viscera, spraying the rest of the prisoners and the audience below. My hand slapping over my mouth, I gasped at the wanton exhibition of violence.

“Does anyone else have something to say?” The silver-haired Fae asked, a splash of blood on his cheek. As the crowd jeered, he regarded the nine remaining prisoners, who watched with terrified expressions. Even from where I sat on the edge of the square, I could see them quivering. “I didn’t think so. Not that your silence will save you, either.”

Without further warning, the nine other men were similarly ended, the two Fae moving from prisoner to prisoner as blood coated their armor. The prisoners were each split down the middle in a scarlet haze of shrieking. The smile never left the Faes’ faces, and the crowd cheered louder with every body that collapsed on the wooden platform.

The scene burned my eyes and my chest as though I’d been encased in a white, hot iron shell. Who was allowing this to happen? What kind of king delivered justice this way?

Once all ten men were dead, the silver-haired Fae spoke again, his voice molded from whisky and windstorms. “Let this be a reminder to the former subjects of Ravalyn should they try to deny the will, the word, or the rule of Estria and their true king.”

At that, I almost fell off my horse.

Formersubjects of Ravalyn? But my father was the king of Ravalyn. Embarrassment trickled in, slow drips singeing my cheeks at this monumental miscalculation on my part. Did I really think my father could disappear for a hundred years and his kingdom would remain unchecked?

Estria. A kingdom two weeks’ ride from here. Now, I understood why the name Goldraven had been familiar.

My task had suddenly become so much more dire. More urgent. If I didn’t wake up my family, I would lose not only them but everything that belonged to me. My birthright. My future.Mykingdom. I could not fight another king with only a single Fae at my back.

The soldiers stationed throughout the square had dispersed the frenzied crowd into the streets. It was a practised maneuver. This wasn’t the first time a demonstration like this had occurred. Some were angry, but most were tired and defeated, their protests weak and brushed away as easily as footprints in the snow. Whatever collective fury gripped them earlier had drained away.

The silver-hair Fae was staring at me with those deep, black eyes reflecting like an inky lake in the sun. There was a mixture of curiosity and menace in his expression, marred by the spattering of blood coating his burnished skin. A strange heaviness skipped in my chest as his gaze lingered a moment too long before he turned away.

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