Chapter
Forty
ou’re going to stay here at the palace, right?”“Y Silence.
“You’re not going to take off and follow me as soon as I leave?”
More silence.
“No matter what trouble you sense, you’re going to stay here. Right?”
Still silence.
“Right?”
Two reptilian eyes blinked at me.
“Sorae!”
The gryvern snorted loudly, the sound coming out sharp and indignant. The dark tip of her tail smacked loudly against the stone floor as it whipped around her.
I grazed my hand down the length of her snout. “I don’t like it either, but you know the rules. If you come crashing in to save me, the Challenging won’t count. I have to do this alone... even if it kills me.”
Sorae let out a low growl, her breath growing blisteringly hot as azure fire glowed in her throat.
Because the Challenging was a modern creation, not part of the Forging spell that governed all of Emarion’s magic, it worked in direct conflict to Sorae’s obligation to protect my life at all costs. Past Lumnos Crowns had gone so far as to chain her to the ground to keep her from interfering.
I was relying on a stern talking-to.
“You know better than anyone how hard this past month has been for me, Sorae. I can’t go through all of this again. It has to end, one way or another.”
She whined and nuzzled against my shoulder, her wings slumping to her side in defeat. My arms slid around her neck as I pulled her close and laid my cheek against her dark iridescent scales.
“If I don’t come back—oh, stop growling already—I’ve treasured every second with you. Be good to the next Crown.
Unless it’s a Hanoverre—then chomp off their feet.”
She snapped her jaws in agreement, but we both knew her promise was hollow. Even if the vilest, most evil heart in Emarion took the Crown, Sorae would be helplessly bound to their will.
I touched the golden chain at her neck. “I wish I could have found a way to free you from this. If I survive...” My eyes rose to hers, and a silent vow passed between us.
A warm flood of affection pulsed across the bond, and I knew it was not borne of obligation, but true feeling. Sorae had little free will in this world, but she had chosen to care for me. I prayed that I could do enough to deserve it.
I pressed a kiss to her forehead and gave one last stroke over the soft grey down of her wings, then turned away before she could see the emotion pooling in my eyes.
“Stay,” I commanded for perhaps the final time.
I took a few steadying breaths and waited for the trembling in my hands to fade away, then strode out of my bedchamber into the main salon and flashed a dazzling, confident smile.
The others jumped to their feet at my arrival, each of them giving off varying levels of nerves. Alixe, as usual, was the picture of self-control. Her calm demeanor showed no sign that today was different from any other day. Taran and Eleanor followed next with their usual bubbly humor, though each laugh was a little too short, each smile a little too strained.
Lily was firmly camped at the other end of the spectrum. She paced the room while wringing her hands, tears ever-present on her lashes. Though I felt guilty at her suffering, I was quietly grateful to see how Teller’s doting attempts to soothe her distracted him from his own anxiety.
On the surface, Luther was playing his role as the unflappable Prince to perfection. His posture was stiff and formal, his words clipped, when he even spoke at all. His features might as well have been engraved in marble for all they revealed.
It was his eyes, as usual, that gave him away. They flickered like a candle caught in a breeze, the pale blue light in them
fighting to stay ablaze. His focus, usually deliberate and lingering, darted madly around the room, between the others, over my body, across my face. Even his aura seemed restless, curling protectively around my limbs, then seizing back, only to creep forward again and again.
I held out my arms and looked at Alixe and Eleanor. “I have to admit, you two outdid yourselves.”
“It’s perfect,” Alixe said with a rare grin.
Eleanor rushed to my side to run her hand along my arm. “Blessed Kindred, you look like a warrior goddess.”
The two women had collaborated to design a one-of-a-kind full-body suit of fighting leathers. Though the rules of the Challenging forbid any hard armor or weapons, the suit had flexible material and soft padding that would let me move quickly and dodge attacks with ease.
I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror, and my cheeks turned bright pink. The skintight outfit, sleek black and intimidating as hell, revealed every dip and curve of my body—which, Alixe had assured me, was its own kind of defense. I had braided my hair in a circle atop my head to show off the sprawling depiction of Sorae embroidered across my back. Her wings curved around my arms while a plume of flame encircled my neck, all in a shimmering smoke-grey thread that matched my eyes.
“I love it,” Taran declared. “Very sexy, Queenie. When Remis asks who wants to come for you, he better clarify he means fighting or you’ll have half the realm lined up.” Luther let out a low grunt, and Taran grinned, smacking his cousin in the chest.
“See? Lu loves it, too.”
I caught Luther’s intense gaze, and the flush on my cheeks deepened.
“Well, Prince?” I teased. “Do you like it?”
His eyes roamed downward, but didn’t quite make it past my lips. “Beautiful,” he said quietly.
Heat flooded through me. I cleared my throat and bounded for the door. “Let’s get on with it, then. I have very important dinner plans I don’t want to miss.”
My entourage dutifully followed, though yesterday’s cheery spirit had been replaced by a hushed anticipation, a whisper of hope that did not dare grow too loud for fear of rousing fate.
My steps faltered once I reached the grand foyer. In two long parallel lines leading down the curved staircase and along the path to the front gate, the members of the Royal Guard stood at attention, each holding a flaming torch in one hand, the other pressed in a fist to their chests.
“A reminder,” Luther murmured in my ear from behind me. “That, Challenged or Unchallenged, you are our Queen.”
The calm indifference I’d been fighting so hard all morning to maintain threatened to crumble and give way.
“Aemonn allowed this?” I asked.
“We’ll find out when he shows up and sees it happening,” Taran answered.
The others held back as I descended the steps. I rolled my shoulders back and set my jaw, determined not to let my growing firestorm of emotions burn through my fierce exterior.
The rest of House Corbois had gathered outside in a swarm of horses and fanfare. Today, the House would join me on the long trek to the arena in a symbolic show of support—and a warning, that a Challenge against me was a Challenge against all of House Corbois.
It was that threat I now clung to against all odds. However poorly the House Receptions had gone, however far the rumors of my lack of magic had spread, House Corbois remained a formidable influence. Risking its wrath was a gamble, especially with Luther, who remained the heir presumptive, standing by my side. If the other Houses feared that killing me would only bring the fury of the next King down on their heads—then perhaps, just perhaps, I might make it through today unscathed.
“Your horse is this way, Your Majesty,” Luther said. His hand found its home on my back as he led me to a stunning dark grey mare with a dappled coat and a glossy white mane pulled into a thick plait. A ring of shouting guards struggled to keep her still, but the harder they fought to restrain her, the more she demanded her liberation, pawing at the ground and rearing her head in protest.
“She reminded me of you,” Luther said dryly.
I raised a brow. “Her coloring or her temperament?”
He didn’t answer, but he smiled.
I walked to the front of the horse, lowering my chin as her glassy eyes fixed on me. She looked me over cagily, her apprehension so intense I could almost feel it in the same way I could feel Sorae’s emotions across our bond.
I extended my hand, inching closer to her in small steps. On instinct, I sent calming energy toward her in an unspoken promise that I meant her no harm. Her posture went unnaturally still, though her eyes followed my every movement.
“Hello there,” I murmured. “I hate to admit it, but I think the Prince was right. I think you and I might be kindred spirits.”
Her ears flicked toward me, her milky tail swishing once, then falling still. I took another step closer, then another, until my hand hovered just above her muzzle.
“Will you do me the honor of escorting me today?” I asked. “I won’t force you. The choice is up to you.”
I waited in silence, not daring to move. Finally, with a quiet huff, she pressed her nose against my palm, and I grinned
wide. I rubbed the soft fuzz around her mouth, stroking my other hand along her neck. She nickered happily in response.
Luther joined me as I moved to her side to mount. I raised my foot to the stirrup and sucked in a breath as his hands curved low on my hips, hoisting me into the air and onto the saddle. His palm dragged slowly down my thigh as his hands fell away.
A stableman walked up, leading an outrageously large stallion with an equally large ego, its regal head arched elegantly toward the sky. Luther mounted the horse with ease, murmuring to the beast as he ran a hand along its silky night-black coat.
I frowned. “What happened to your other horse—the big white one you rode to the lodge?”
He gestured across the front lawn. “That one?”
There it was.
White as snow, with a patch of black between its eyes, and as tall as a house. Gold ribbon in its mane.
The horse Henri saw months ago when he witnessed its rider trample a mortal child to death. The same horse Luther rode the night he brought me to the palace for the first time as Queen.
And seated on its elaborate jeweled saddle was Aemonn Corbois.
“My horse threw a shoe that night,” Luther explained. “I was in a rush to get to you, so I took Aemonn’s instead.”
He barely even stopped, Henri had said. Gods, he was swearing at the boy for getting mud on his pretty bejeweled saddle.
Of course, of course it wasn’t Luther—it was Aemonn who killed that child in cold blood and rode away without a care.
Aemonn, who was now Keeper of the Laws.
Aemonn, who was now responsible for the fate of the half-mortal children.
Terror rose in my stomach, and I gripped the saddle to hold myself steady.
“What’s wrong?” Luther demanded, his voice turning sharp. “What happened?”
I kept my focus on Aemonn, watching as he smirked and laughed with his cousins, undisturbed by the possibility of my death. I had once believed there was some goodness in him, buried under his lies and plots. Had he been a monster all along, and I’d refused to see it?
Aemonn scanned the bustling front lawn and paused as his gaze met with mine. I made no effort to hide the horror that surely warped my features.
At first, his face filled with contempt, but as I continued to watch him, searching his bright blue eyes for some glimpse of the soul beneath, his expression wavered, then turned guarded—almost as if he knew what I was doing and feared what I might find.
“Is there a problem?” Luther asked. “Did Aemonn—”
“It’s nothing.” I scrambled to rebuild my composure. “I have to win today, Luther. I have to.”
“You will,” he insisted. There was such steadfast certainty in his voice, I almost began to believe it.
Luther nudged my horse toward the front of the procession. “It’s time. She knows the way.” He placed a fist across his chest and dipped his head. “Lead us, Your Majesty.”
I directed my mare to the front gate, refusing to make eye contact with Remis and Garath as I passed them to take the point position. They would ride at my flank, followed by Aemonn, then the rest of the Crown Council, with Teller and Lily just behind.
With no more titles to speak of and no formal connection to me, Luther should have been relegated to the back with the rest of the Corbois, but I knew better. I didn’t have to see him to know he would never be too far from my side, rules be damned.
As if he’d heard my thoughts, his familiar aura swirled around me and brushed against my skin. Despite the deadly odds I marched to meet, a smile spread across my face.
