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Conreth rolled his eyes, and for a moment, I caught a glimpse of the brothers they could have been. Perhaps the brothers they still occasionally were. Gently teasing, competitive without attempting to break each other.
If they’d ever had that kind of relationship, I wanted them to find it again. But from the way Conreth’s mouth thinned when he glanced at me and the way Lorian’s eyes burned in response, it was unlikely to happen.
A woman followed Conreth out of the castle, her steps unhurried, graceful. Long, golden-blond waves cascaded over her shoulders, contrasting beautifully with her gossamer gown—a soft violet. Delicate gold chains dripped from her throat and wrists, studded with crystals and pearls. Her eyes were a shockingly bright blue, which gleamed with curiosity as they met mine.
“Emara,” Lorian said, and his eyes softened slightly. He liked her. The next time Lorian displayed unreasonable jealousy, perhaps I’d bring up this moment. I ran a hand over my mouth, hiding my smirk.
“Lorian. It has been too long.” She took his hands, smiling up at him. Then she turned to me. “And you must be Nelayra.”
I nodded. “But you can call me Prisca.”
“Prisca.” Her smile widened. “It’s nice to finally meet you.” She hugged Rythos, Galon, and Marth, then introduced herself to Madinia, Telean, and even Jamic, who studied her as if she were some unknown species he’d never seen before.
Lorian was having a wordless conversation with his brother. From the way Conreth’s jaw hardened, it wasn’t a pleasant one.
Emara smiled again, still radiating that calm contentment. “I’ll show you to your rooms so you can freshen up.”
Madinia frowned, and I understood why. Kaliera would never have considered doing such a thing herself.
Within a few minutes, I was standing in a tastefully decorated room that begged to be explored. And yet, all I could do was fantasize about falling into the wide, plush bed.
Lorian turned to me and smiled humorlessly. “We’re in Aranthon now, wildcat,” he said silkily. “So why don’t you tell me what you’ve been keeping from me since we left Eprotha?”
* * *
Sabium did not rage.
His cheeks did not flush.
His hands did not fist.
Instead, his face was blank, his posture relaxed. But his eyes…
His eyes gleamed with a dark malevolence.
We sat at a circular table in his war room—a damp, underground room with stone walls and wooden chairs—Sabium’s advisers talking over one another as they competed for his attention. The patriarchs were shaken by the seemingly random attack. Most of them would never know my son had been taken. Any guards who had known Jamic’s location and survived the attack had been slaughtered for their alleged crimes against the kingdom. Just another way for Sabium to ensure word of the true reason for the attack would never spread.
But my son was free.
Beneath the table, my hands shook, and for the first time since I was a young girl, my eyes ached with suppressed tears. Joyful tears. Jamic wouldn’t bleed to death like a stuck pig, his body dumped into the sea when Sabium was finished with him.
I sat still, expression attentive, pretending to listen to the suggestions made by those who couldn’t comprehend the reason for the attack. Of course the hybrid heir hadn’t been able to resist freeing more of her people. Hundreds of residents of the city had gone missing overnight—likely hybrids in hiding.
This had given Sabium the perfect smokescreen for the true reason behind the attack. As far as the court knew, the infiltration of the city had merely been a raid to free those hybrids. An incursion that, while embarrassing, was not at all a threat to his plans.
Finally, Sabium waved his hand. The room went silent. “I must think on this,” he said. The advisers filed out. I stood, and Sabium shook his head. “Not you.”
My hands turned numb. Distantly, I wondered how much longer I could keep doing this. Sabium was becoming suspicious. I knew he was. Tymedes watched me constantly, and I knew he was bribing several of my servants.
Sabium hadn’t just lost Jamic. No, Pelysian’s spies had learned of an error much worse. My son had been wearing one of the fae amulets. It would have slowly tortured him, the flood of all that power likely excruciating. But Sabium had risked it, greedy as always for extra power when he killed Jamic and took the barrier down.
The loss of Jamic was a blow. But the loss of the amulet, after so many years of scheming and killing?
Blood drummed in my ears at the thought of his retaliation.
“I suppose you’re pleased,” Sabium said mildly. His gaze met mine. For a long moment, I lost the ability to breathe.
But I hadn’t worked this hard just to fall apart now.
