Page 5 of To Wake a Kingdom

“You were very brave.” Awe filtered into her voice as she canted her head and pierced me with keen brown eyes. “Bravery is not one of your gifts.”

I blinked.Right.

Eleven gifts befitting a princess had also been granted the same day as the curse.

Bravery was not one of them. Killing a man wasn’t, either.

“I was going to bury them.” I gestured to the surrounding bodies.

Kianna studied the slain Fae, silvery tears lining her eyes. She nodded and stood. Her wounds were healing already, thanks to her Faerie blood.

“I can do it.” I placed a hand on her shoulder. This felt like my responsibility, though I wasn’t sure why.

“No, Your Highness, they were my sisters. I will help you.”

Together, we carried the eleven Fae to the forest clearing, gently laying them in their graves and crossing their hands over their hearts. It was hard and strenuous, and neither of us said much, lost in a labyrinth of thoughts that twisted and folded in on each other.

Now, we stood in the throne room over the body of the man. He was much bigger than me, and at least twice the size of Kianna. I picked up the sword he had brandished, studying the blade. Beautifully rendered, it was decorated with intricate scrollwork and embedded with an array of pale jewels. But its primordial energy was gone. Maybe I had imagined it, giving it significance when it had threatened my life. It was nothing but an ordinary blade, with no more power to hurt me.

I tucked it in the back of my belt and bent over. “Take his arms.” I gestured to Kianna. “On the count of three, let’s try to shift him.”

We heaved as hard as we could, only dragging him a few inches.

“Damn,” I said, pressing the heel of my hand to my eye socket. Kianna’s gaze widened at my language, and I snorted. “Oh, don’t be so shocked. We’re going to have to roll him.”

Little by little, we shoved the man’s body out of the castle. By the time we’d rolled him into the clearing, the sky glowed in hues of orange and pink, pale stars winking overhead.

It was a beautiful sky for an ugly day.

We heaved the man into his assigned plot. His stomach—born of too little activity and too much gravy—protruded above the ground. But I was beyond weariness, and I couldn’t dig anymore. It would have to suffice. I dropped his sword next to him, kicking dirt over it.

While the sun set, we filled each of the holes. Kianna moved between her sisters’ graves, bloodied green tulle trailing in the dirt behind her, its edges ragged and torn. As she passed the graves, flowers sprouted, forming patches over each Faerie’s resting place.

“What about him?” she asked as we stared at the man’s humped burial plot.

“Fuck him. He can rot in hell.” I spat on the earth. Again, Kianna regarded me with wide-eyed wariness.Ignoring her, I turned back to the castle.

The sky was dark now, silver embers reflecting off midnight blue. I rubbed my arms, wincing at the burn of cloth against my flayed palms.

“I’m starving. Let’s hope the food slept, too.”Exhausted, hungry, and furious, I stomped to the castle.

Kianna flitted behind me, saying nothing as we entered the dark building. Sconces lined the walls, but I didn’t know how to light them. Kianna flicked her wrist, and they flared to life as flames sparked, casting shadows across every surface. I nodded to her and pulled the castle doors shut, sealing us in.

A thick beam sat propped against the wall, and I slammed it into the brackets. Staring at it, I chewed my bottom lip, deeply mistrustful this bit of wood would protect us. What I wouldn’t have given for a few guards. Inside the throne room, I picked up my father’s sword.

“Which way are the kitchens?” I asked Kianna.

“Don’t ask me.” She stood on her tiptoes in front of a guard, nose pressed almost to his before she poked him in the cheek.

“Stop that! They won’t wake up. Your spell is a disaster.”

An unnecessary comment—I felt guilty for it immediately, especially seeing the hurt that crossed Kianna’s face. But I was also in too foul a mood to apologize. I wasn’t wrong, and my relationship with the Fae had always been complicated. Today had changed nothing between us.

Reasoning the kitchens must be near where we ate, I headed for the dining hall. My already cloudy mood grew even darker as I realized how incapable I was. I’d been coddled and protected like a delicate glass rose. I didn’t even know how to find the kitchen in my own home. It had never been required of me—someone had always been there to see to my every desire. The uncomfortable truth was this: no one had expected me to be here long enough for it to matter.

A servant’s hallway ran parallel to the dining room, ending in a staircase that opened to an enormous kitchen. Dozens of people—an army of cooks, bakers, and servers—slept in corners and flopped over furniture, faces pressed to any surface that had been nearby. Whatever fire burned in the large stoves had long fizzled out. Silence permeated the walls and the floor, a reminder of how alone we were.

Everything was suspiciously clean and free of dust. Like it had been only yesterday they had gone to sleep. Was this part of the magic, too?

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