Chapter
Thirty-Four
hrieks of laughter filled the skies as a blur of golden fur and black scales went whizzing past.S “Sorae, if they get hurt, your hide is going to make a beautiful rug for the library floor.”
The gryvern snorted in amusement, undeterred by my threat, and spiraled into a roll. The downdraft of her wings sent my hair whipping around my face, leaving the echo of Teller and Lily’s giggles in her wake.
Eleanor yelped and lunged forward to hold down the fluttering blankets. In an effort to cheer me up, she had organized a spread of cakes, berries, and sweet wine on a grassy knoll in the palace gardens. Although winter had fully arrived and it was too brisk to comfortably picnic, we had cuddled together under the warmth of the spelled cloak gifted from Montios at the ball.
She had even arranged for some musicians to play nearby. I suspected it was no coincidence they only seemed to have the cheeriest songs in their repertoire.
Nearly two weeks had passed since my father’s funeral, and the Period of Challenging was nearing its end. My mood had not improved—every day I woke up feeling more hardened, more numb, and more isolated than ever—but Eleanor was trying so hard, her kind heart so obviously hurting for me, that I had forced myself to at least pretend.
Teller and Lily had joined us, scarfing down as much sugar as they could eat, then begging to take a ride on Sorae. It was the first glimpse of happiness I’d seen in my brother since our father’s death, so I’d had no choice but to swallow my overprotective instincts and agree.
Teller had taken the brunt of Luther’s efforts to atone, and a small army of guards followed him everywhere he went. While it made him perhaps the safest person in the realm, maybe even the continent, it also made spending time alone with Lily next to impossible.
Unfortunately for him, his pleas for me to convince Luther to relax went unanswered. I was both too grateful for Teller’s safety and too unwilling to have any conversation with Luther that wasn’t strictly necessary.
But today, they’d been momentarily spared, and Sorae was giving them the ride of their lives. Although my pulse went soaring at each death-defying maneuver, the sound of my brother’s laughter slowly chipped away at the glacier that had formed around my heart.
“The House Receptions are going well,” Eleanor said brightly. “You haven’t had to give your I’m-going-to-be-a-fair-and- righteous-Queen-whether-you-like-it-or-not speech in at least a week.”
I huffed an empty laugh. “Are they, or are the smaller Houses just more afraid of Remis than they are of me?”
She didn’t answer, turning her eyes instead to the gryvern twirling through the air, but I saw the truth of it in the tight press of her lips.
“At least we’re almost finished.” I folded my arms beneath my head and closed my eyes as the sun and wind took turns warming and chilling my face. “Only four more days and this will all be over.”
“Five,” she corrected. “Only four until the Challenging, but don’t forget about the Rite of Coronation.”
I held my tongue. I hadn’t forgotten. And I hadn’t misspoken.
“How is your training going?” she asked. “I hope those three haven’t been too hard on you.”
My jaw clenched. “You don’t have to pretend like you don’t know. I’m sure Taran told you I still haven’t been able to use my magic.”
“Taran and I don’t talk about that,” she said defensively. I cracked an eye open. She was propped up on her elbows,
frowning at me.
“It’s fine if you do.”
“But we don’t,” she insisted. “What you and I discuss stays between us. And Luther, Taran, and Alixe made a bonded bargain not to tell anyone about your training.”
My lips parted as I blinked at her, speechless at the idea that they had been willing to put their magic on the line to protect my secret.
“You still don’t think you can trust us, do you?” she asked. “When we pledged ourselves to you, we really meant it, you know.”
The hurt woven into her features needled at my guilt, which had become my constant companion as of late. “I do trust you, I just...” I winced, knowing I wasn’t being entirely honest. “You four are family. And as kind as you all have been, I know I’ll never fully be a part of that.”
She looked at me for a long moment, her features creased thoughtfully. “Have I ever told you about my parents?”
I shook my head, and Eleanor reclined onto the blankets, snuggling at my side.
“Both of them were very powerful. They never wanted children, but Garath and Remis said they owed it to the House to pass along their strong magic. In House Corbois, if you’re told to get married or have a child, you obey.”
“But Ulther was the most powerful Corbois, and he never had children,” I said.
“Once his mate died, he refused to consider it, and he was King. No one could force him. My parents had no titles, so they made a deal with Remis. They gave birth to me in exchange for a prestigious appointment to the army.”
I scrunched my nose. “You make it sound so transactional.”
“It was. As soon as I was born, they handed me over to Remis and left for Fortos. They visited a few times, but once my powers manifested and everyone realized I wasn’t strong like them, they stopped coming back to see me.”
“They abandoned you? Because of your magic?”
She leaned her head against my shoulder. “Descended Houses aren’t like mortal families. Unless you’re in the direct line of the House leaders like Luther and Taran, or unless your magic is powerful like Alixe, then you’re just one of many cousins.
You live together, eat together, go to school together. A few remain close with their parents or siblings, but it’s not common.”
My heart ached for her as I imagined growing up in that way, surrounded by kin yet lacking any family. I had never considered the Descended’s view of half-mortal offspring as expendable commodities might extend to their own children, as well.
“I don’t tell you this to earn your pity,” Eleanor said. “Luther and Taran looked out for me, and I had luxuries many would kill for. I only want you to understand that the bond you have with Teller... it’s not like that here. We protect each other because it keeps the House strong, and without the House, we would have nothing. But family in the way you see it, full of loyalty and unconditional love—we make those bonds by choice, not by blood.” She took my hand and held our joined palms to her chest.
“You’ve shown more faith in me than anyone ever has. You are as much my family as any Corbois could ever be.”
Something clicked in my heart—a lock opening, or perhaps a door creaking ajar. I sat upright and pulled a blade from the small arsenal I’d taken to wearing, and I cut a shallow line across my palm. When I reached for Eleanor’s hand, her eyes gleamed with understanding. She sat up and gave me a nod, and I dragged the blade as gently as I could across her flawless, uncalloused skin.
Beads of scarlet formed in our palms. I pressed them together and wove our fingers together until our hands were fully clasped.
“Now I have Corbois blood in my veins, and you have Bellator blood in yours. Let us be family in every sense of the word.”
She held her chin high, even as her lip quivered. “Family,” she agreed.
“You are my sister Eleanor, now and for the rest of my days.” I gazed down at our combined hands with a doleful smile.
“However few they may be.”
LATELY, the hardest part of getting through the House Receptions had just been staying awake.
As the Houses grew smaller, both in size and importance, the meetings became less about bargains or threats and more about angling for favor. The lower Houses had little to gain from Challenging me. Even for those bold enough to take the risk, every political boon they might have sought had already been demanded by Houses with greater leverage. Instead, the Period of Challenging was an opportunity to raise their standing by building alliances.
As a result, I’d spent the last several Receptions being fawned over like a newborn babe. They raved about my beauty, waxed poetic about my confidence at the ball, and offered me lifetime supplies of baubles, silks, and artwork. Lumnos was home to some of Emarion’s finest artists and artisans, and I now had my pick of the very best the realm had to offer.
Today, my favor was being bribed with pearls and emeralds. House Byrnum specialized in both, and they had filled the room with a truly dazzling assortment. Their House leaders, green-haired twins named Ryx and Ravyn, were taking turns blathering on about what a fine Queen I was sure to be and our two Houses’ “special future together.”
Some other time, I might have reveled in having riches I could once have only dreamed of, or I might have made Teller laugh until he cried recounting how I’d been praised for my grace and elegance.
Instead, every compliment had the opposite effect. Each one was an offering to a false idol, a reminder of my unworthiness, a scoop of dirt burying me further in my self-made grave.
It was impossible not to imagine Luther in this seat. He would have known exactly what to say and do, how to accept the flattery with humility and negotiate the threats with ease. He had the right pedigree, the right upbringing, the right demeanor, even the right color eyes. For him, the Period of Challenging would have been a mere formality—the fulfillment of a long- expected promise.
He would have been the King the Descended wanted. The King the realm needed.
Perhaps in a few days, he still would be.
I shifted in my seat and stole a glance behind me, unsurprised to find his unyielding stare fixed on me.
Watching my back. Awaiting my command.
These days, I hated looking at him. Hated being in his presence, under his constant watch. Hated that he no longer challenged me or reined me back in, in his quiet, clever way. Hated the pain I saw every time our eyes met. Hated that a part of me wanted to forgive him. Worse—that despite my broken soul, a part of me wanted to console him and bring the smile I once cherished back to his face.
I hated that I missed him. Hated that I longed to hear his dry humor, hungered to bait him into a conversation that was as much flirting as sparring. Hated that he no longer found reasons to put his hand on my back, that I no longer had excuses to loop my arm through his and nest into the warm safety of his side.
I hated that when I lay in bed at night, lonely and scared and yearning for a pair of arms to wrap me up and give me strength against all I had to face, it was not a pair of sweet, honey-brown eyes I pictured staring back to me, but a set of brooding grey- blue.
Eyes that I suddenly realized I had been staring at for too long to be casual—eyes that were now staring back at me under
furrowed, questioning brows.
“Your Majesty?”
“Huh?” I whipped around and jolted upright. “What? I mean, uh...” I cleared my throat and gestured to a mountain of gemstones set out on a nearby table. “My apologies, I was, um, distracted by these beautiful emeralds. They’re so... beautiful, and so... so green.”
The twins reacted in unison, two perfect smiles stretching up to two perfect sets of gleaming eyes.
“We’re so pleased you enjoy them,” Ryx purred. “After the wedding, we’ll ensure Your Majesty is covered in jewels
everywhere you go.”
“Wedding?” I frowned. “What wedding?”
“The wedding to our son, of course,” Ravyn said.
I was thankful that Eleanor’s forewarning kept my expression clear of the disgust now roiling my stomach. She had explained that the twins of House Byrnum were mated to each other. Though they shared no offspring—thank the gods—Ravyn had children from a different sire that Ryx had adopted as his own.
“We so look forward to the joining of our families for the happy occasion,” Ryx crooned.
“Who is it you think is marrying your son?” I asked slowly. The crease between my brows deepened. “If you believe I’m selling my hand...”
Remis rose and stepped forward with an arm extended. “This is a private matter, there is no need to—”
The twins dissolved into a fit of eerily identical laughter. “Your Majesty, we would never presume such a thing,” Ravyn giggled. “The wedding isn’t to you, of course. Though we do expect you to be there. It is part of the agreement, after all.”
“Really,” Remis started again, “this isn’t a matter for the Reception.”
“What agreement?” I demanded. “Who is your son to marry?”
“The Princess,” Ravyn answered. “Our darling Roderyck is betrothed to your Lilian. They are to be wed just after the new year.”
I spun to face Luther again, but for once, his eyes were not on me. He was glaring at his father with enough rage to level a realm. The aura of his power shuddered darkly against my skin, raising the hair on my arms.
My gaze jumped between Remis and the twins. “Does Lily know she’s betrothed?” I snapped.
Remis didn’t answer, though he gave me a look that was an unmistakable order to stand down.
But I had seen Lily’s untroubled demeanor this morning as she clung to Teller and squealed with delight on their gryvern joyride. That wasn’t the face of someone who knew she’d been sold off like chattel.
“Lily isn’t marrying anyone unless she chooses for herself,” I said. “If Roderyck wants to marry her, he can court her and propose, and she will decide.”
The twins’ smiles fell as one, their eyes sliding to Remis. “Regent,” Ryx said, “we had an agreement.”
“Lilian will do what’s best for her family,” Remis soothed. “She will accept whatever betrothal I arrange for her.”
“You bastard,” Luther snarled.
“The hell she will,” I said. “She is my family, and she’s not for sale.”
Luther stalked forward to stand at my side. A scorching heat radiated from his presence, borne of his imposing body and his fiery wrath.
The twins shared a prolonged, wordless look, then Ryx turned to me with a calculating stare. “It is in your best interest to uphold the agreement, Your Majesty. Roderyck is one of the most powerful Descended in the realm.”
My gaze narrowed. “Is that a threat?”
Ravyn let out a gasp that was a little too loud, a little too dramatic. “We wouldn’t dare threaten the Queen. But our dear boy does have such a temper, and he is so thrilled about the wedding. If the betrothal were to be broken off now...”
“He might be inclined to do something rash,” Ryx finished for her.
“Let me guess... something like a Challenge?”
Ryx gave a casual shrug, as if he hadn’t just threatened my life—and his own son’s.
“There will be no need for any of that,” Remis cut in, once again stepping between us. “Lilian will do her duty.”
“Marriage is not her duty,” I clipped.
“Perhaps we should allow you two to discuss this in private?” Ravyn offered with a sprightly smile. She took her brother- mate-husband’s hand and cuddled into his hip. “It was a pleasure meeting you, Your Majesty. You’ll look stunning in our pearls at the wedding.”
Remis cut me off before I could snipe back a response, shooting an unspoken warning to his brother that had Garath dragging Aemonn forward to escort House Byrnum from the room. Remis waited until the corridor was empty, then slammed the door and turned to me with a hiss.
“Are you truly so determined to get yourself Challenged?” he growled. “That was not your business to interfere with.”
“Nor was it yours. Lily will marry whomever she pleases, whenever she pleases, but it certainly won’t be forced on her by you.”
He scoffed. “I don’t have to force her. Lilian is a smart, well-behaved girl. She knows her place.”
“Her place?” Luther and I repeated in unison.
“I am the head of this House,” Remis said, “and I will decide—”
“Are you?” I asked, tilting my head as I crossed my arms. “You’re not the oldest. You’re not the most powerful. You’re not even the highest ranking.” I gave him a slow, unimpressed once-over.
Remis’s temper finally snapped. His composed demeanor melted away, replaced with a predatory rage reminiscent of his son’s. “You think you can steal this House from me?” he boomed. “You were a backwater, uneducated nothing. If I hadn’t allowed you to associate with my House, you’d be dead already.”
Luther moved to intervene, and I stopped him with a laugh. “You begged me to claim House Corbois. I walked in, soaking and muddy, and you practically groveled at my feet. You were so desperate to hold on to a crumb of importance, you gave your entire House away.” I shot him a pointed look. “Maybe now you’ll learn a lesson about selling off family for power.”
Remis snarled and bounded toward me. In a flash of movement and light, Luther shoved me into Taran’s arms and unsheathed the jewel-encrusted sword strapped to his back. Magic seeped from his hands and illuminated the blade in a soft glow.
I’d only seen him wield it once before—the day he confronted me at the hunting lodge, believing I’d killed the late King.
I’d teased him then about the gaudy weapon, but from the way the entire room had now gone still, with Remis’s eyes bulging and fixated on the gilded hilt, it was clear there was more to it than I had realized.
“You dare draw the Sword of Corbois on me?” Remis spat. “That sword is only to be used to defend our House.”
“That’s exactly what I’m doing,” Luther said, his voice quiet but deadly. “She’s our leader now. Your reign is over.”
Remis huffed. “I am your father!”
“And I was your son,” Luther thundered. “That did not stop you from drawing blood then. And it will not stop me from doing so now.”
Taran’s posture drew tight as he gripped me closer. A sourness hung in the silence, the pungent reek of an old, festering family wound being reopened that I did not fully understand.
Remis’s gaze moved beyond Luther to me and narrowed. Luther raised his sword in warning, his magic crackling in the air, while Taran shifted me further behind him.
“You’re lucky I cannot Challenge you,” Remis muttered.
I lifted my chin. “Why wait? I’ll take you on right now.”
He smiled, clearly considering it.
“You’d have to kill us both,” Luther warned. “Are you so certain the Blessed Mother will select another Corbois if you slay two of her chosen in a row?”
Luther’s words struck their target. Remis took a step back and smoothed down his jacket, his expression resuming its usual ambassadorial calm.
“I hardly need to dirty my hands with such things,” he said frostily. “If the progress of her magic training is any indication, the Challenging will take her off my hands very soon.”
Luther, Alixe, and Taran stiffened and exchanged confused glances. “You don’t know anything,” Luther accused, somewhat unsteadily.
“I know more than you think.” Remis turned his back and strode calmly to the door. “Those dungeons are so poorly guarded after all, practically anyone can slip in and hide in the shadows. If only we had a High General with a more vigilant eye for security.” He paused in the doorway. “Maybe then the Queen’s father would still be alive.”
The mention of my father had my temper shredding and rage exploding out of me. Taran barely had time to lock his arms in a cage around my chest to hold me back before I hurled myself forward, thrashing and snarling with the nastiest swears I could invent.
But Remis had no interest in my ire. His barb had been intended for his son, and from the way Luther’s sword drooped and his head hung low, it seemed that, too, had hit its mark.
“Don’t think for a second you will not pay a price for this betrayal, son,” Remis said, “whether she is coronated or not.”
He left, and no one spoke. Luther kept his back to us as he stared at the open door, sword still in hand, the rapid rise and fall of his shoulders the only evidence of the storm brewing within. We all seemed to be holding our breath in wait.
When he finally turned to us, his rage had tempered, his gaze now hard with focus. One by one, he stared us down, barking orders that left no room for even a Queen to debate.
“Eleanor, stay with Lily. Keep her away from my father.”
Eleanor gave a swift nod.
“Alixe, you’re with Teller. Keep him out of sight as much as you can until the Challenging.”
“Understood,” Alixe said.
Luther looked at me for a long, torturous moment, then turned to Taran. He sheathed his sword, clapped his palm on his cousin’s shoulder, and leveled him with an unforgiving stare. “Do not let her out of your sight. Not even for a second.”
“I won’t,” Taran vowed. “She’s safe with me.”
Luther didn’t move, holding his gaze in silent challenge. “Taran,” he said quietly.
Taran placed his own hand on Luther’s shoulder and gave it a firm shake. “I know, cousin. With my life.”
Luther let out a sharp breath and pushed away, heading for the door.
“Wait,” I called out as I ran to his side. He didn’t stop at first, seemingly lost in the darkness of his thoughts. I reached for his hand, and the moment my skin brushed his, we both froze in place. “You really think Remis would hurt Teller or Lily?”
“No. But I’m not taking any chances.”
“What are you going to do?”
He turned fully to me and lowered his eyes to mine. His gaze was thick with turmoil and threat, but beneath the tempest I could see his still-broken heart, begging for my forgiveness, vowing to never let me down again.
“Whatever I have to.”
He hesitated, more words lurking on his parted lips, but he pressed them together into a firm line. With a caress of my hand so faint I might have imagined it, he let me go and walked away.
