Chapter
Seven
emonn and I strolled into the garden, Sorae launching to the skies to keep an eye on us from above. He led me onto a gravelA path lined with frilly lavender flossflowers and vibrant pink and white petunias, their sweet fragrance permeating the air.
“Luther sewn to your hip, Eleanor as your drinking companion, and now a private tour from yours truly. Dare I take this as a sign you intend to claim our noble House as your own?”
“I’m considering it,” I said. “You and your cousins are certainly going to great lengths to welcome me.”
“Can you blame us? We have everything to lose if you say no.” I blinked at his bluntness, drawing a wry smile from Aemonn. “Do you disagree?”
“No. I’m only surprised to hear one of you admit it so plainly.”
He gave an elaborate sigh. “I admit, being forthright is not always a family virtue.”
“So I’ve noticed.”
I glanced over my shoulder. Luther remained on the terrace, his attention fixed on where Aemonn’s arm and mine were joined. I quickly looked away.
“Is that why you asked me to take this stroll with you—to convince me to accept your uncle’s offer?”
His answering smile was enthralling. “I confess, I had an even more selfish motive in mind.”
He turned me onto a new path that led away from the palace and out of Luther’s line of sight, this one tiled with a mosaic of white flagstone and dotted with fancifully shaped topiaries.
“I was hoping you might allow me to be your escort to the Ascension Ball,” he continued. His eyes twinkled at my look of confusion. “It’s your formal introduction to the Houses of Lumnos.”
My heart stopped. “A ball? To introduce me?”
“Yes, but it’s nothing terribly unusual.” He waved his hand absently. “Music, dancing, uncomfortable clothes, vicious gossip. The standard fare.”
I instantly felt queasy—either from the wine or the prospect of being paraded in front of the Descended of Lumnos and
expected to dance.
“When is this ball?”
“The day after the King’s funeral.”
“And when will that be?”
He gave another exaggerated huff. “We tried to keep Uncle’s death secret until your decision was made. Unfortunately, the servants were not as tight-lipped as we’d hoped. Mourning sashes have already begun to appear in the city. We’ll only be able to put off the funeral for two or three days at most.”
I gripped his arm to stay upright as the world wobbled around me. I would be presented as the Queen in two or three days.
At a ball.
With dancing.
“Traditionally, the Crown is escorted by their consort, but as you are unmarried—you are unmarried, aren’t you?—you’re free to choose whomever you wish. I hoped I might convince you to give me the honor.”
My stomach churned. I stumbled a step.
Aemonn moved in front of me, hands sliding to my ribs to hold me steady. The warning bells that urged me to pull away were drowned out by the clamor of alarms I was already reeling from.
“Is everything alright?” he asked.
Words wouldn’t come. My mouth was dry as cotton, my throat full of cinders.
“Luther didn’t tell you any of this?” Aemonn frowned. “He’s not a very dutiful advisor.”
“He’s not my advisor,” I choked out. “He’s just my...” I stopped. I didn’t really know what he was to me.
“Diem, look at me.” Aemonn’s fingers curled under my chin, tilting it upward. My eyes met his, and he rewarded me with a heart-stopping smile that dulled the edge of my panic. “It’s nothing to worry about. I can help you through it.” His thumb traced a slow line on my jaw as his gaze dropped to my mouth.
Drunken adrenaline bloomed through my chest, overwhelming my senses, and for a minute it was all I could do to keep breathing. Then a different, slimier emotion sliced through my thoughts—guilt.
“I’m with someone,” I blurted out, jerking away from Aemonn. “Not married, but... Henri—we—it’s, um, very serious.” It felt like a lie as it left my lips.
Aemonn stilled, his head angling a fraction of an inch. “Is he... mortal?”
I nodded.
“Hmm.” His gaze narrowed. “And precisely how serious are things with this Henri?”
I frantically tried to cobble together a response that didn’t give me away entirely. Aemonn took a step closer, a feral cat slinking toward the cornered mouse, and the words burst out before I could stop them.
“He asked me to marry him. I... I haven’t answered him yet.”
I winced.
I should not have revealed that.
Really, really should not have revealed that.
Aemonn studied me shrewdly. He was still wearing that dazzling smile, but it no longer met his calculating eyes.
“Well then,” he said evenly, “Henri will have to join us at the ball. The Houses of Lumnos will be very eager to meet him.”
“No!” I shook my head, my heart hammering. “He won’t be attending.”
“Diem, whatever lucky man you marry will become King Consort. If you are betrothed, or expect to be, and the other Houses find out you concealed that from them, the consequences for the Challenging would be catastrophic. Every House in
Lumnos would rise against you.”
Oh gods. This was bad. So very bad.
“May I be honest with you?” Aemonn’s expression lightened, his features trading their sharpness for a look of pity I wasn’t sure I believed. “I’m sure this Henri must be a wonderful man. But relationships between mortals and Descended...” He grimaced. “Mortals die so quickly and so easily, and of course the children are forbidden, and—”
I bristled. “You do realize I am the child of a mortal?”
“And if you were not the Crown, you would be put to death as a result. Is that the life you want for your offspring?”
I flinched at his words. I wasn’t even sure I wanted children, but the idea of a child of my blood being executed merely because of its father...
I staggered a few steps back. “I need to go. I need to talk to Luther.”
I had no idea why I’d said it. Luther was the very last person in the world I wanted to discuss Henri with, and I was already cringing at the lecture he would surely give me for ignoring his advice.
“Luther?” Aemonn gave an incredulous laugh. He smoothed a hand over his hair, careful not to disturb his perfectly coiffed appearance. “Yes, perhaps you should,” he said coldly. “He knows best what becomes of half-breed children.”
I tensed. “What do you mean?”
“Diem darling, Luther is the Keeper of the Laws. It’s his job to enforce King Ulther’s rules.”
I shook my head, beginning to understand but refusing to believe. “En... enforce them?”
His smile turned cruel at last. “Who do you think carries out the executions of all those children on behalf of the Crown?”
“What?” I gasped.
Aemonn tutted softly. “He must have killed dozens of them over the years. Those poor creatures. Most were infants who couldn’t understand what was happening, but some of them...” He clutched at his chest and dipped his chin, his voice falling to a whisper. “How terrified the older children must have been as Luther’s sword cut through their necks.”
My vision went red.
Murderer.
That evil, soulless, irredeemable murderer.
No wonder he’d been so unmoved when Henri had seen him trample that child to death. What was another slain mortal child to a killer like him?
My rage awakened with an explosion, filling my chest with white-hot fire.
Fight.
For once, that gods-damned voice and I were in complete agreement.
“I need to go.” I spun away from Aemonn and stormed toward the palace.
Above me, Sorae let loose a shrill cry, the flowers in the garden quivering under the downdraft of her beating wings. As I broke away from the manicured pathways, she slammed down on the grass ahead of me with an inferno in her eyes. Her heavy breathing tracked my own, her smoke-tinged breath ruffling my hair.
Tell me who to kill, she seemed to be saying. Unleash me upon them, and I’ll make them pay.
And she would do it, I realized. She would tear Luther into ribbons of flesh if I asked—perhaps even if I didn’t, given my fury.
Had Luther used her to kill those children? I felt sick at the thought. So many Crowns had commanded Sorae before I had—
there was no telling how much mortal blood she’d spilled at their request.
That was the problem with blind loyalty. It could be wielded by evil just as easily as good.
My eyes fell to the gilded chain on her neck. It wasn’t really loyalty that drove her. Her obedience was slavery, and nothing more.
Did she ever grieve her orders? Were her dreams plagued by the screams of innocents as they begged for a mercy she was powerless to give?
I gazed into her golden eyes, but Sorae didn’t answer. When I reached out to her across our bond, I felt only her deep and unconditional desire to destroy whoever had caused me such distress.
“Leave him be,” I commanded as I routed around her.
She snapped her jaws in frustration.
“Sorry, girl,” I muttered. “If anyone’s going to kill Luther Corbois, it’s going to be me.”
