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I tore my gaze away. King Vern huffed with enjoyment. “Show me your trick,” I said as I passed under him. My words crawled as slow as I could make them to give me ample time, while my fingers clenched over the blade. It took restraint not to drive the blade into the king’s chest as I walked, but he was not my target. “Show me an archer who can accomplish such a thing.”
King Vern’s hand raised again.
“Don’t, I’ll do anything!” Bash had fallen to his knees. I quickened my pace. Troi’s glossy eyes bored into mine. I didn’t risk a wink. Soft dirt sank beneath each calculated step as I inched along, guessing how close I could get before the fae king suspected I aimed for more than an alliance. Building my courage.
Please don’t let me die.
I halted two paces from Troi. This was as close as I dared.
“Show me, my king,” I leaned heavily into a flattering tone. “Kill her.”
This had to be timed perfectly. At such a distance, we were bound to see the arrow coming before it struck, and that would be my chance.
“Finally.” His voice dripped with pleasure and his hand lowered. My wild eyes searched the skies. There it came, the long point of an arrow. At the first sign of movement, I threw myself in front of Troi and slashed with the blade.
Odette’s dagger sliced through the rope, freeing one of Troi’s hands. At the same moment, an iron arrowhead tore through the back of my shoulder and protruded under my collarbone with a wicked sting. The entire room swayed as King Vern roared.
I was betting on their love for me, praying it was strong enough that he’d free her to spare my life. But I’d intended for the arrow to strike farther from my heart. My arm, perhaps. This was too close. I choked on something—blood or surprise, I couldn’t guess. But my resolve faded in the face of the arrow cleaved through my skin.
Troi was looking at her feet in terror. They weren’t bound, yet though she thrashed, they didn’t move.
“The only power that works in this room is my own,” King Vern growled. He’d chained her there by some magic. He strode through the crowd with the fire of a lion and the scowl of a man I didn’t care to cross while Bash raced to Troi to cover her with his body.
“I can’t escape,” she whispered. She backed away until her body slammed against the dirt wall enclosing us here. She could move for the stairs, but she’d still be King Vern’s property, and he could choose not to release her.
Worries for her turned into worries for my own life as the sharp pain began to shred all other thoughts. My knees hit the ground and my vision darkened. “King Vern,” I called. But my voice was as weak as my stomach. Release her or I die, I meant to say. But all I could see was the arrow in my shoulder, and the word that came out was, “Help.”
Bash knelt at my side. “Don’t let him heal you.”
“You’re mad,” I gasped with strained breathing. “I’m going to die.”
“Don’t be so dramatic.”
I gaped at him. “Truly,” I wheezed. “This is the end.”
“Stop it.” He almost laughed as he stood. “Vern, renounce your claim over my sister, or the death of a Mortal Queen will be on your shoulders.” A rustle of whispers paraded through the fae as Bash stared down King Vern. Whether his mind traced my plan on its own or he came up with it the same way, I was grateful he could stand behind me and push the deal when I couldn’t.
Now we only needed King Vern to do his part. Let me die or give in to his love for the Mortal Queens and release Troi.
King Vern’s body went rigid two paces from me. He kneeled in the dirt, taking off his robe to fan over my shoulders. “My Queen,” he said. Where his eyes ignited with fire moments before, they now flooded with tears. “My beautiful queen.”
Bash’s words came back to me. No matter how hard we try, we can’t help but love our queens. Let him be right.
“Let me heal you,” King Vern placed a hand over mine, but I yanked it away.
“Only if you release Troi.”
He scanned the audience, where all faces were turned to us to catch every moment. His downfall would not be a private one.
“I can’t let you die,” King Vern said. His muscles flexed and a war seemed to pulse beneath his skin as he clawed his hand into the soil. “I’d never be forgiven.”
I’d always thought I could be strong if placed in battle, but this one arrow through my shoulder threatened to knock me out. The darkness in the corners of my eyes crept in. I spoke through gritted teeth. “Release her.”
With a growl, King Vern glared up at Bash. “As you wish. Troi is no longer my property.”
Appearing strong was no longer my priority. I flung out my hand for King Vern, and he grabbed hold of it. “Bastian?” Bash nodded and without warning ripped the arrow from my shoulder. I yelped in pain.
A soothing sensation flowed through my veins, coiling up my body until it reached the fire in my shoulder and settled in a wave of relief. My next breath came easier, and the one after that was almost normal. Bash held the blood-soaked arrow while Troi ripped the last of her ropes free.
