Page 53 of Wrath of the Fae

‘So you want me to just sit at the sidelines and be a pretty face on a throne?’

‘If that’s what’s needed right now, then yes! We have the Valker warriors. We have Lords and Ladies. Scholars, healers, and good, honest Fae ready to do whatever needs to be done. So do what we need you to do, and be a rational figure they can all get behind!’

‘Fuck you.’

‘Fuck you too!’ he bellows, his words echoing all around us. ‘You’re not the only one hurting, Raven. I’ve lost El. I lost Brennan. I’ve lost Reid. They were the only family I had known for almost my entire life. Even Tessa isn’t the same as she was. And I know we weren’t exactly BFFs, but I even miss Cyrus! You’re all I have left, so quit trying to kill yourself and help me fight this fucking war! Can you do that?’ He stares daggers at me. ‘Well?’

‘Yes,’ I reply quietly.

‘Good. Now if you’re done being a prat, I’m going to speak to Wolf and the Valker, who have all spent the past few hours risking their lives trying to figure out where this arch is that they’re trying to start up and what the hell is in the sky. The last thing we need is them reconnecting with Ivan and resuming trade.’

He spins on his heel and flies out of the pit, leaving me alone in the darkness.

I wipe the blood from my nose again.

It cut that he said his concern was only the trade, and not me being taken. I’ve really pissed him off.

I look down at the markings etched into the stone and cautiously tap my fingertips against its surface.

‘Get it together,’ I scold myself before getting to my feet and flying out of the pit.

We’ve been here a matter of days, and the number of those taking shelter in the Thirteenth Kingdom has almost doubled.

Word’s out. The once poor, tyrannical kingdom at the Realm’s border is now a haven for the lost and weary.

For the hunted.

I stand atop the highest balcony of the manor house and watch the bustling streets below. The smell of jasmine tickles my nose as a light breeze rustles my hair, and the soft chiffon dress I wear sweeps over my bare feet.

They insist on these delicate gowns. The sparkling jewels. The perfect hair falling in waves down my back.

Lucca thinks it lifts spirits. And I’m in grovelling mode, so I’ll play the part for now.

I’m the epitome of a queen, and those below who glance up and see me standing here, no more than a speck to them, see me as that.

Elegant. Poised. Proud. They long for a ruler. One with kindness for her people. An understanding of the ancient rules that kept peace among them for so many centuries. I often hear how much I look like my mother dressed like this. Perhaps the familiarity comforts them. If wearing a pretty dress and pretending I’m as calm as a swan in these turbulent, deadly waves eases them… then so be it. As long as I’m not the one ordering armies and meeting with Lords and Ladies to create treaties or rules, I’m happy.

I can fight just as well in a dress as the ratty jeans and leggings I’m used to.

And when they are not looking, I can be me.

Lucca has been trying to teach me how to fight with a sword. And I have been practising every spare minute I get.

It keeps my mind off everything, at least.

‘My Lady,’ Wolf says from behind me. His voice is a low rumble as he tries not to startle me.

I face him. His eyes are dull and his skin pale. He’s worked tirelessly to discover everything about the arch I saw. They have searched the kingdoms in secret. Taken First Kingdom soldiers for questioning. Questioning that ends in death. He’s found nothing, and it’s killing him.

‘Anything new?’ I ask.

He shakes his head solemnly.

‘Has that crack in the sky done anything?’

‘No, My Lady.’

‘You need to rest,’ I tell him.

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