Ajax explained, “Ramon’s throne was in jeopardy long before the Midnight Sovereign showed up in his throne room that fateful night. He was slowly losing his hold over the land. One inauguration ceremony he returned, and—well, that was a bad night—a very bad night. I believe it happened because of his cruelty. He forsook too many of his vows, to his people and his land, to the Spring Court. And there were consequences. Consequences he didn’t wish to accept. He hid it very well, at first…”
“Yes, but why would he blame the Midnight Sovereign for that?” I asked, still not understanding.
“Because the biggest threat to his throne came from his family. From their expectation he continue their bloodline. He couldn’t produce an heir. Children are so rare among full-blooded Fae. For all of his consorts, well, none of them ever…so he schemed to steal away a human bride. But he didn’t ask permission. The woman’s willingness didn’t matter to Ramon. That’s where you come in, the Midnight Sovereign. The woman’s mother, she traveled to your island. Begged for her child’s release.”
“Moira,” I murmured. “I dreamt about her too; she was powerful. She rescued the woman, didn’t she?”
“Yes,” Ajax affirmed. “And Ramon swore his revenge right then and there. Vowed to destroy your position. Moira, your predecessor, she took back his human bride, and in his mind, the last chance he had to bear offspring, to secure his throne. Shortly afterward, his brother made a bid for the throne. And he was too weak to resist. He was deposed. Humiliated—his power, his throne, and his bride all taken from him. He blamed the Midnight Sovereign for his downfall because men like him are incapable of admitting when they bring misfortune upon themselves.”
“Why did Archlord Ailmon let him live? If he took the throne from him? Why let him live?”
“He didn’t. At least, not intentionally. I don’t know how Ramon managed to escape, only that he’s still out there.”
I counted the scars across Ajax’s flank and wondered how much pain, how much cruelty he’d been forced to endure at Ramon’s hands. “I’m glad you’ve found a new home, Ajax. Thank you for telling me what you know. That’s very helpful.”
Nix hissed under his breath, but he finally relaxed his body, curling back up at my side.
“Ajax, is that you?” King Ravenell murmured, pushing himself up in bed. The tiger softly purred as his hand came to rest on his body. “And Nix—you’re awake too. It’s been a long time. My son mentioned a cat giving him a hard time, asked how I thought he could win you over. I thought maybe it could be you. I am truly sorry to see you’ve lost your wings. I believe you’re in good hands now, old friend, with Elvira here at your side. We had quite the lovely conversation earlier this afternoon.”
“Wait a second,” I said, putting together Nix’s first words to Ajax. “Is that why you’ve disliked Corvin this entire time? You could smell Ajax on him?”
Nix looked as demure as I’d ever seen him. “Yes, well, I couldn’t prove it, but I feared, after that first whiff, he might be in league with your enemy.”
“And now?”
“He brought you back to me,” Nix said solemnly. “I don’t suspect him anymore.”
Nix addressed King Ravenell next. “You’ve given sanctuary to Ajax?” he asked, his voice mildly accusatory.
Corvax’s gaze was measured as he replied, “I’ve built a kingdom on the idea that everyone deserves a new start in life, a second chance, and the opportunity to make amends for past mistakes. We are a sanctuary for all who take to the sky onbruised wings. Just like your island is a sanctuary for those with nowhere else to turn. All I ask, Nix, is that you give Ajax the chance to prove that he has changed.”
Nix blinked slowly, evidently accepting his answer, because all he said was, “Very well.”
“Make amends…that reminds me. Your debt to the Midnight Sovereign. I feel bad—no matter what Corvin does, the magic won’t seem to resolve the debt. Do you know what needs to happen? I mean, at this point he’s done just about everything he could feasibly do—”
The king’s brow furrowed. “Luciana helped our kingdom in its earliest days. My son knows that with my declining health, some of my past debts have been weighing on my heart. Very graciously, he offered to help however he could. I suspect he is secretly hopeful that fulfilling them might improve my health. When Alyndra and I wed, my sensitivity to such matters increased. She was Fae, grew up in the Winter Court, and was always chastising me when I failed to repay a favor or express my gratitude where it was owed. She knew how to make the people around her feel special and loved, and she would have wanted me to ensure I did the same before passing, to thank the people who made this life and this kingdom possible. A binding debt, well, it begins to take a toll on you if you do not heed its demands. As my blood, Corvin chose to take that onto himself. But I cannot say I fully understand its terms. He will sense when the magic is appeased, when the debt has been repaid.”
“I hope for your sake that it will be soon. And that you will feel much better afterward.”
His voice took on a searching tone. “And for your own?”
“For my own sake?” I gripped my bedsheets. “I’m scared of it resolving. I don’t want to lose Corvin, don’t want to lose the connection between us.”
“Thank you, Elvira. For your well-wishes and for sharing your feelings with me.” The king’s gaze lifted over my head as the door opened, looking toward the figure entering the room. “Kygraw! Welcome! Our guest seems to be feeling much better today. Perhaps you would be so kind as to give her a tour of the courtyard? I suspect she might appreciate a short walk and some fresh air.”
I turned to meet my tour guide.
CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE
Agiant humanoid owl stepped through the door and into the infirmary. Kygraw walked over to the king’s side, pausing as he passed by Corvin’s bed so that he could tuck his blanket, which had slipped down, comfortingly back up around his shoulders. Kygraw possessed two large wings, which extended into humanlike hands, enabling him to manipulate the sheet.
I studied the rest of him, trying not to be too obvious about my curiosity. His wings consisted of layered white feathers, gradually blending at their tips into a lovely tawny brown. He was tall, likely seven feet in height. His face reminded me of a barn owl, large dark eyes framed in white, his mouth covered by a small golden beak. There was a slight bend to the shape of his legs, which were also notable for ending in three-pronged talons. His cloak, embroidered with shades of silver and blue, just like the rest of his uniform, flared behind him as he walked. He cut an imposing figure, not least of all for his size.
The king clasped Kygraw’s hand in his own. “This is Elvira,” he said, introducing me with a warm smile. “I’m entrusting her to your care. I fear I may need some more rest…” Kygraw squeezed the king’s hand before turning his attention back toward me.
“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Elvira,” he greeted, his natural speaking cadence stately and deliberate.
“You too. Corvin’s mentioned your name often. He never told me who you were. But I could tell you were someone very important to him.”
