Chapter
Twenty-Nine
’d say that was a successful ball, don’t you think?”“I Eleanor nudged me with her shoulder as we walked arm-in-arm to the palace’s formal meeting rooms. Today was the first of the House Receptions and my first time with Ulther’s Crown Council at my side, along with the additions of Eleanor and my father.
“No one died,” I agreed. “That’s a positive.”
“Everyone’s talking about how beautiful and confident you were. At court, there’s really no higher compliments.”
I had plenty of thoughts on the Descended prioritizing beauty and arrogance over all else, but her expression was so radiant with contagious joy, I forced myself to hold back.
“Everyone was too far gone on the wine to notice my dancing. That’s another positive.”
She laughed and squeezed my arm. “You were a lovely dancer.”
“It’s treason to lie to your Queen, Eleanor.”
“Your last dance with Luther seemed to go especially well,” she teased. “Anything you want to tell me about?”
My cheeks turned hot. I had barely thought of much else since that final dance. I tossed and turned all night, my conversations with Luther running on a torturous loop.
His words. His touch. How he protected the mortals without question. The way he defended me to Iléana. His belief in my
reign.
What he’d confessed about how he felt.
I’d risen before dawn overwhelmed with guilt over Henri and determined to put Luther out of his misery with a firm but polite rejection. For an hour, I paced my room and rehearsed my speech while Sorae watched with skeptical eyes and the occasional snort of judgment.
By the time Luther arrived for our daily breakfast, I’d felt confident both my speech and my resolve were solid as godstone, until one flash of that smile he reserved just for me had a very different response rising to my lips—one I hadn’t yet dared to speak aloud.
But he hadn’t come alone. Alixe had joined in to give a report on the latest movements of the Emarion Army, which eventually devolved into the three of us swapping stories about our most memorable fights and embarrassing training mishaps.
It made for a lovely morning of laughter and budding friendship, but now I felt more confused about what I wanted than ever.
“Well?” Eleanor prodded. “You two were dancing like you were the only people in the room.”
“We had a long talk,” I said carefully.
She snorted. “Did he finally admit he’s fallen head over heels for you?” I stopped and stared at her, and Eleanor’s jaw dropped nearly to the floor. “Blessed Mother, he did.”
“No! I mean... not in those words. He—he said...” I toyed with the ends of my hair. “I asked about what he said at the cousins’ dinner—about wanting to serve me, not marry me.”
“And?” She seized me by the arms and shook me with brows high. “And!?”
“And... he said he wanted me. All of me.”
Eleanor gazed at me with honest-to-gods hearts in her eyes and made a high-pitched swooning sound. I buried my head in
my hands and groaned.
“Do you feel the same way?”
“I’m engaged, Eleanor.”
“That’s not what I asked.”
“I’m engaged.”
She pried my hands from my face, forcing me to meet her stare. “If you weren’t engaged... would you feel the same way?”
Because Eleanor had been a loyal friend to me—maybe the only one I’d ever had, other than Henri—and because I was tired of hiding my soul away and pretending to be unbreakable, I let the armor fall, and I let her see all the anguish and doubt
that was rending my heart in two.
“I had a life before this Crown, Eleanor. I had a family and a career, a man I cared for. And now I’m being given a new family, a new calling, and feelings I’ve never had before...”
I squeezed my eyes closed in a desperate bid to keep my composure.
“I’m losing myself. I feel like I’ve been set on fire, and everything that makes me who I am is burning away, bit by bit.”
Eleanor pulled me in and wrapped her arms around my shoulders. “I know we haven’t known each other long, but I can already see the woman you are. I see your kindness and your values. Those things are what define you, Diem. Not your titles or the person you marry.”
She pulled back and tapped the medallion at my chest bearing the House Corbois insignia. “Everyone says this phoenix represents dying and coming back as something new, but I disagree. I think it’s a symbol of surviving when the world burns down around us. It’s a reminder that no challenge can destroy the parts of us that truly matter. We’re not reborn in the flames.
We’re revealed.”
She brushed my tears away, her fiercely loving expression reminding me so much of my mother it hurt. “This man you’re engaged to—if you love him, then fight for him. But if you’re only holding on to him because you’re afraid of losing who you are...” She took my hands in hers. “Nothing can take that away from you, Diem. No Crown, no man. Not even the Kindred themselves.”
I let her words sink in, and I let myself consider what it might mean to accept them—not just the consequences for my heart, but for all of Emarion, if I followed this path Luther believed I was being called to walk.
“You’re a wonderful advisor, Eleanor Corbois,” I said between sniffles, touching my forehead to hers. “And you’re an
even better friend.”
“Are you two about to kiss?”
Eleanor let go of me as her eyes rolled to the ceiling with an exasperated groan. “I swear Taran, you really know how to ruin a moment.”
We turned to see Taran and Luther sauntering down the hall. They were both smirking, their postures relaxed, but as Luther took in my reddened eyes and wet cheeks, his smile vanished. His shoulders pulled tight, his expression turning sharp.
“I knew every man in the palace was trying to get in your bed, Queenie,” Taran joked. “I didn’t know you had the women lining up, too.”
“What can I say Tare-Tare, I’m just so sweet and well-behaved, it’s irresistible,” I teased back, laughing weakly as I wiped
my face dry.
“What happened?” Luther asked tersely.
“I’m fine,” I rushed out. “It’s nothing.”
“Tare-Tare?” Eleanor howled. “I’m calling you that from now on.”
Taran glowered. “You might want to rethink that, Ellie Belly.”
She scowled.
“Who hurt you?” Luther demanded, ignoring his cousins. Two gauntlets of light appeared on his hands, tendrils of power crackling around him as he clenched his fists.
Taran looked at me, then at Luther, then shrugged. “Go on then, tell us who to kill.” He held out palms, and two hissing orbs of shadow hovered over his hands. “Is it Aemonn? Please say it’s Aemonn.”
“Aemonn?” Luther snarled, eyes narrowing. “Did he—”
“Blessed Kindred, put the magic away,” Eleanor scolded. “No one hurt anyone. We were just talking about our feelings.
It’s a thing people do sometimes. You two should give it a try.”
Taran chuckled as his orbs disappeared, but Luther held firm. My heart reeled at the protective fire blazing in his eyes.
I offered him a small smile. “I’m alright. Really.”
Eleanor walked up to Taran and linked her arm with his. “Come on Tare-Tare, walk with me. Maybe we can make a drinking game out of these House Receptions.” Their laughter echoed down the corridor as they continued ahead.
Luther dissolved his magic and looked me over carefully. He offered out his elbow. “May I escort you?”
I hesitated, then slipped my hand through and set my palm on his forearm. Even through the thick fabric of his doublet, I felt the same buzz of energy pass between us as if our flesh were bare.
“Your father is here,” he said. “I had the guards take him to the meeting room.” He paused. “I have to ask... are you certain about this? Once you present him as your advisor, there’s no going back. The Houses will want to know everything about him, including his relationship to you.”
I forced down a lump in my throat. No, I wasn’t certain. Just the thought of exposing my father to the powerful Descended at these House Receptions made my pulse race.
I glanced up at him. “You promised me that if I claimed House Corbois, you would protect my friends and family. Do you still intend to keep that promise?”
He said nothing, but it was the look he gave me, the vow that smoldered in his expression, that spoke a thousand words. A
vow to fight—with his life, if it came to it—to protect me and everything I cared for.
“And you still believe you can keep them safe, even if their connection to me is known?”
“I have my most loyal guards on your father and on Teller, as well as with Maura and the healer’s center.” He frowned.
“But Henri...”
“I know,” I sighed. “Having guards watch him would do more harm than good.”
Luther nodded. “I trust my men, but if they were to discover his involvement with the Guardians, it would be dangerous— for both of you.” He stared down the hall as his jaw flexed. “Once you present him as your betrothed, I’ll make arrangements for an escort, if he will accept one.”
I didn’t respond. Henri would never consent to being followed by Descended guards, but that did not answer the real question that lay in Luther’s words.
We walked in silence, our steps heavy with the weight of everything that had passed between us last night.
“Any last suggestions?” I said with a chipper smile that I was certain he could see right through. “Eleanor already warned me not to ask Evrim about his brother’s gambling habit or bring up what happened at the last Forging Ball.”
“Good advice. He’ll never live that night down.” His lips slid into a smirk. “He’s also very touchy about his height.”
My grin turned real—and wicked. “I’ll tuck that little gem away for use at a later date.”
Luther let out a dark chuckle that made my chest go fluttery, then a calm focus took hold of his features.
“Evrim uses fear over the mortals to cover his real interest, which is the profit he stands to make if the war escalates. The more scared everyone is, the more weapons they buy from him.”
“Interesting. So you don’t think he really hates the mortals?”
“No, though he’s happy to encourage it with the other Houses. Other than House Corbois, House Benette is the most powerful of the Twenty Houses, but also the easiest to manipulate. They will always go where the money is.”
My mind wrestled with the potential of that information. As we approached the meeting room, the sound of belly laughter roared from within. Luther and I shared a confused look.
When I entered, Taran had his arm slung around my father’s shoulders in a near-headlock. Though my father was strongly built for a mortal, he looked comically tiny beside Taran, who was massive even by Descended standards. Eleanor’s hands were clasped in my father’s, the three of them laughing so hard tears had formed at the corners of their eyes.
“Queenie!” Taran called out. “Your father’s telling us how you refused to wear clothes for a month straight.”
“And how you set all your dresses on fire because you couldn’t climb trees in them,” Eleanor added.
I blinked at what I was seeing—my father, joking with my new Descended friends as if they were old chums. Something warm and precious burst in my heart.
“When she was four, she couldn’t pronounce the letter S without spitting,” my father said with a grin. “For months, she walked around drooling all over the house.”
“Father!” I shouted, laughing. I ran up and gave him a kiss on his cheek. “You’re supposed to advise me on how to torture them, not the other way around.”
“Too late,” Taran said. “We’re going to make him a regular at Corbois dinners.”
My stomach churned at that suggestion.
“Your Highness,” my father said to Luther with a deep nod.
Luther returned the gesture, his expression now hardened into his typical firm facade. “Good to see you again, sir. And please, call me Luther.”
Between the four of us, I wasn’t sure whose face looked the most shocked. Luther’s insistence on titles bordered on pathological. Every time I gave someone leave to call me Diem rather than Your Majesty, he cringed so hard I thought he might be experiencing actual, physical pain. Though he tolerated his closest friends using his name in private, I’d never seen him permit it from a stranger—and certainly not in formal meetings such as these.
“How nice to finally have some pretty faces to look at during these dreadful Council meetings,” Aemonn said, flashing me a smile as he strolled in with his father.
“What are they doing here?” Garath demanded, jerking his chin to Eleanor and my father. “They aren’t on the Council.”
“Good morning to you, as well,” I clipped.
He scowled. “Your Majesty,” he gritted out in reluctant greeting.
I gave him my sunniest smile. “Actually, I have appointed Eleanor and my f—Andrei as my advisors. They are the first, and thus far only, members of my Council.”
“Along with your High General,” Luther corrected, his eyes still twinkling with victory over his accidental appointment at last night’s ball.
Garath eyed my father. “The other Houses will be furious to see a mortal on the Council when they’ve been demanding their own seat for centuries.”
“Andrei was already an advisor to the late King on mortal matters,” I said. “This is merely a continuation of Ulther’s approach, as Remis and I discussed.”
Garath started to spit something back, and I rolled my eyes and turned my back to him in a blatant dismissal. I could feel the daggers slicing into my back from his incensed glare.
My father stared at me with a tight expression that seemed to rotate through awe, confusion, and dismay. “If my presence is a problem, I’m happy to—”
“Nonsense, Commander,” I said firmly, hoping he heard the pride in my tone. “The Crown Council is mine to appoint. End of discussion.”
Voices approached, and soon Remis appeared with Evrim and a small entourage. We briefly made introductions while Eleanor took my father’s hand and lurked in the background.
I took my seat in the center of the room, a large stone-walled chamber that was far more austere than the rest of the palace.
A tapestry of the goddess Lumnos hung as a backdrop behind a throne-like wooden chair, which was carved with the sun-and- moon sigil of the realm and surrounded by the crests of the Twenty Houses. Remis and Garath sat on either side of me, with the rest of the Council spread in an arc behind us. Evrim sat directly opposite me, his chair far simpler and slightly lower-set, with his own advisors seated behind him.
“Welcome, Evrim,” I started, keeping my tone light and amiable. “It was a pleasure to see your family again last night. I only regret I never had the chance to meet your mother. I hear she was the most beautiful woman in all of Lumnos.”
Evrim gaped at me for a long beat, then a shade of fondness softened his features. “Yes, she was.”
“She would have been so proud of all you’ve built. Of her beautiful grandchildren, too.”
Evrim went a bit moony-eyed, and I nearly turned around and kissed Eleanor. She’d given me a wealth of advice on how to woo Evrim, and so far, it was working brilliantly.
“I hear your son is in the top of his class.” I batted my lashes prettily. “He takes after his father, I’m sure.”
“Not enough to my liking. He’s got a rebellious spirit, but with the right discipline, I’ll break it soon enough.”
My heart twisted at his cold tone.
“Interesting that you should mention my son,” he went on. “Lorris tells me that when he met you, you claimed to be from
one of the smaller Houses.”
I stiffened. “I didn’t—”
“Her Majesty was born to Harold Corbois,” Remis interrupted. “His line was quite distant. He never resided at the palace with the rest of the family. He died before her birth, and she was raised by kind neighbors who took her in.”
“And your mother?” Evrim asked me.
“Died in childbirth, sadly,” Remis answered for me. “Her name is lost to history. From a lower House, I hear.”
I clenched my jaw. I had never planned to hide my status as a half-mortal. Risky as it might be, the half-mortal children Luther had smuggled out—and the ones he couldn’t save—deserved a Queen willing to claim them as her kin.
With one smooth lie, Remis had just taken that choice out of my hands.
“Marthe Hanoverre seems to believe Her Majesty was born of a mortal parent,” Evrim said.
“House Hanoverre accuses everyone they dislike of being a half-breed,” Garath said dismissively, and I had to curb my stunned look at his joining in the ruse.
Evrim drummed his fingers against the arm of his chair and studied me closely. His gaze roved my body, lingering on my chest a beat too long. A quiet growl rumbled from a chair behind me.
“Such a tragic upbringing,” Evrim said with false sympathy. “House Corbois abandoned its ties to you as a child. If you’re looking for another House to take you in, House Benette has much to offer.”
Remis and Garath squirmed in their seats. I rubbed my chin and let the offer hang for as long as I dared, reveling in their discomfort. I sighed and set my hand over the phoenix medallion. “A generous offer, but I will never, ever turn my back on my family.”
If only they knew the true intention behind those words.
Remis gave me a gracious smile shaded with relief, then looked back to Evrim. “Her Majesty is keen to continue the prosperity of my late brother’s reign. Since I have been ruling as Regent for several months, I will continue to take the lead—”
“The last several months have been disastrous,” Evrim said. “We’re losing business to Umbros, and my top clients have been receiving threats. Now those terrorists have destroyed my armory. If that is your leadership, it hardly gives me comfort.”
“What would give you comfort?” Remis challenged.
Evrim’s gaze slid to the chairs lined up behind me. “You can hardly expect me to speak openly with one of them in the room.”
“Andrei is a celebrated Commander in the Emarion Army,” I cut in. “His loyalty is indisputable.”
“He’s a mortal,” Evrim spat. “His very presence here is an insult.”
“He was an advisor to Ulther and helped him suppress several rebel uprisings,” I shot back. “I brought him here to show you how committed I am to preventing further violence.”
Evrim leaned forward and laid his elbows on his knees, glaring at me from beneath his brows. “I don’t want to prevent further violence. I want to hit them back ten times harder. I want to show those mortals the consequences of not knowing their
place. We’ve allowed them to live here—”
“We—the mortals were here first,” I snapped.
I prayed my slip of the tongue went unnoticed, but too many of them shifted their weight, too many eyes narrowed in.
“This realm was given to us by the Kindred,” Evrim said.
“With a mandate to protect the mortals.”
“With a mandate to rule over them as we see fit. It is no coincidence the Crown has only ever been given to a Descended. It is our divine right.”
“My divine right. And I will rule over them, and you, as I see fit.”
Evrim leaned back in his chair and tilted his head to the side as he stared me down. Any friendliness I’d earned with my earlier flattery had crumbled to ash.
Garath cleared his throat. “Let us speak bluntly, Evrim. What will it take to avoid a Challenge from House Benette?”
“I want the people responsible for the attack on me found and tortured until they reveal everyone in their network.” Evrim spoke icily and without hesitation, his answer clearly settled long before today. “I want every Guardian found and executed.
Publicly. Gruesomely. And then I want their families imprisoned to show the rest of them what happens if they cross us again.”
“You would have me punish innocent people?” I asked.
“I’m not done,” Evrim barked. “I want every eligible mortal enlisted in the army. They started this war, let them go off and fight it.”
“Fortos doesn’t have the resources to take on that many new soldiers,” my father’s voice rang out. “They barely have enough weapons as it is.”
I winced, proud of him for speaking up but knowing it was the worst possible thing to say.
Evrim smiled, visions of gold coins practically glinting in his eyes. “Then let them buy more. We’ll happily accommodate their orders.”
“Conscripting unwilling soldiers does more harm than good,” my father countered. “They may work against the army from within, sabotaging missions or diverting weapons to the rebels.”
“As long as they’re off Lumnos soil, I don’t care what they do. Let the Fortos King punish them.”
“The Emarion Army serves the entire continent. We can’t just think of ourselves—”
Evrim scoffed at me in disgust. “This is the kind of advisor you keep? A mortal who prioritizes other realms over our own home? Perhaps House Benette should Challenge you, after all.”
The room chilled into a deep silence. My fingernails dug into the armrests of my throne as I paused to choose my next words. Remis cut in before I could decide between diplomacy and annihilation.
“I’m sure we can find a compromise,” Remis said brightly. “Perhaps exceptions from army service for mortals who work for the Twenty Houses. As for the families of the rebels, we can give them a week’s notice to leave the realm. If they’re innocent, they will go. If not, we’ll consider it an act of solidarity with the rebels and arrest them for treason.”
Wood creaked beneath my fingers, my composure beginning to crack. This was Remis’s compromise? This was the plan he expected me to sit quietly and accept?
My godhood swirled excitedly in my chest, sensing my spiraling temper.
Fight, its voice goaded.
A light formed beneath my palms, followed by a wisp of smoke and the scent of burning maple. The sensation of frost and fire spread across my skin as the back of my hands began to shimmer.
Something tugged at my attention, as if my name were being called in a timbre only I could hear. I looked back to see Luther’s stare drilling into me. Sparks of his own power writhed angrily in his eyes. The air between us rippled, thick with the auras of two formidable godhoods screaming to be unleashed.
Almost too faintly to see, he shook his head. I took in a ragged breath and lifted my chin, and he did it again.
I looked back at Evrim and bit down hard on my tongue until I tasted the metallic tang of blood.
Evrim gave an offhand shrug. “I suppose I can take it under consideration.”
“As will I,” I snapped.
“It was your counter-offer.”
“It was the Regent’s counter-offer.” I straightened in my throne. “I’ll need to speak with all my advisors before making such an important decision.”
In truth, I’d Challenge House Benette myself before I would ever agree to any such deal, but I needed time—time to plan, time to negotiate, and time to determine whether I could train my magic enough to survive a Challenge.
“Very well,” Evrim said. “But decide quickly, Your Majesty. The Period of Challenging is short, and judgment day is coming.”
“THAT COULD HAVE GONE BETTER,” I said sullenly, staring at the room of empty seats.
Garath and Remis had left to escort House Benette from the palace, while Luther had taken one look at my expression and made a quick excuse to pull the others away so my father and I could talk in private.
“You wear your emotions on your sleeve, Diem,” my father chided. “Your temper has always been your weakness.”
“They want me to execute innocent people and force families out of the realm. If anything is worth getting angry over, is it not that?”
“Does your anger actually help those people, or does it make you feel righteous while the situation gets worse?”
I crossed my arms and looked away. The wound cut deeper than he could possibly know, in no small part because I knew he was right.
“My silence won’t help them either,” I said defensively. “What good is being Queen if I don’t fight back?”
“Being a leader is about more than barking orders when people don’t do what you want. And how many times have I taught you that giving in to your emotions is the fastest way to lose a battle? You should know better.”
I didn’t answer for a long time, frowning as I stared at the empty chairs where House Benette had sat. Where each of my enemies would sit in these coming days, one by one, forcing me into more impossible choices.
He let out a long sigh. “I think I should resign as your advisor.”
My focus shot to him. “No.”
“My presence here hurts you. You need distance from the mortals.”
“I need you. You’re the only person I can trust.”
“You’re being selfish. Stop thinking about what you want, and think about what’s best for the realm.”
I flinched at the criticism, closing my eyes as my chest suffocated under the weight of his shame. I hadn’t realized until now just how badly I wanted my father to be proud of me as Queen—to be impressed by me and my plans, to be willing to stand by my side, whatever may come.
And I hadn’t realized until now just how badly it would hurt that he wasn’t.
“I’m sorry to be such a disappointment,” I said quietly.
He shook his head. “Diem, sweetheart, that’s not what I meant.”
“I accept your resignation.”
“I’m only trying to help—”
“Go home, Father.” I leapt out of my chair and stalked for the door without a final glance. “I’ll just have to do this alone.”
