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Sabium smiled. “I’ve already made a deal with the one in power. He blames the fae king’s family for not gifting his family one of those amulets so long ago. He has never forgotten the fact that his people were overlooked and has agreed to stay out of the conflict.
Eryndan angled his head, and it was clear he was impressed.
“I’ve heard rumors about just how fast and agile his ships are,” Sabium continued, “and I don’t want them in my way. So I approached him before this war even began. And once I’ve taken the fae lands, I’ll blow that island out of the sea.”
Rekja’s eyes hardened. I filed his reaction away.
“I want the island,” Eryndan said.
Sabium waved a hand. “Fine. We’ll discuss how to empty it of fae at a later date. For now, we need to prepare for war.” His gaze slid to Rekja. “No opinions?”
Eryndan’s expression hardened as he glanced at Rekja. “My son has been fucking a commoner. A woman whose only task is to protect us from threats. He can no longer be trusted to have an opinion.”
Sabium raised one eyebrow. “I assume she is now lying in an unmarked grave?”
Rekja’s jaw clenched, but he didn’t say a word. Impeccable self-control.
Eryndan just let out a hiss. “She has since disappeared.” He gave his son a blistering look. “But I can assure you that he will fight by my side.”
The remainder of the evening crawled by. Finally, I made my excuses, my head pounding. Pelysian could no longer risk sneaking into my rooms—Sabium and his spies were watching too closely. So I was forced to use the mirror.
I would never become used to the absence of sight and sound. For those few moments once I entered the mirror, there was nothing.
This must be what death felt like.
And then someone took my hand. I stepped into the tiny cottage, almost bumping into Pelysian. Thankfully, his mother was nowhere to be seen.
“Sabium’s alliance with the Gromalians is fully in place. There will be no severing it.”
“Then it is time for you to leave, Your Majesty.”
I studied him. He’d cut his hair since I’d seen him just days before. It no longer slid across his shoulders. “Not yet,” I said. “Not when I know he still has one amulet.”
“Have you sent a message to Madinia with the location?”
I glanced away. “No.”
His brow creased, and I strolled toward the rickety table and chairs, changing my mind at the last moment. “Lyrishade is north of the Dytur River. The hybrid heir and her friends are in the fae lands, and it will be too dangerous for them to attempt to make it across Eprotha.”
“They have other people they could use for such a dangerous task. Why is it you feel you must do this, Your Majesty?”
I didn’t know. It was an emotional choice. After everything Sabium had done to me, to Jamic, something within me refused to slink out of his castle in the dead of the night. I needed this.
“I will help you get out of the castle, out of the city, out of Eprotha, if that is what you want,” Pelysian said, his eyes hardening. “But I will not help you throw your life away.”
I opened my mouth, but he was already shaking his head. “Your son is free, Your Majesty. If you ever want to see him again, I suggest you leave while you can.”
* * *
Cavis’s body was burned at sunset after the summit. Regner’s twisted magic had preserved him, and he looked as if he was merely sleeping. Thankfully, someone had worked some magic of their own, and there were no traces of the damage his body had sustained before he died.
Sybella leaned over, placing one last kiss on his cheek before he was set on the pyre. Piperia was fussy, likely picking up on the pain and rage of everyone around her. I watched Sybella rock her and allowed Lorian to pull me close. I was going to make sure that one day, I could look Sybella in the eye and tell her I had avenged her husband.
Lorian had made sure Sybella was holding the baby, banning anyone else from taking Piperia throughout the ceremony. He’d told me he didn’t trust that Sybella wouldn’t walk into that pyre otherwise.
That night, we raised a glass to Cavis, but most of us went to bed early. It felt wrong to celebrate his life when we hadn’t yet avenged his death.
We were up early the next morning. And despite everything I’d said about refusing to accept the prophecy…
