Let the council come. We’ll be ready for them.
And they have no idea what they’re truly facing.
CHAPTER 13
JESSA
Power flowsthrough me like liquid starlight, transforming everything I see, everything I feel, everything I am. As we walk through the crystalline corridors of the Winter Palace, I’m hyperaware of every detail—the way servants’ eyes widen when they see me, the whispered conversations that follow in our wake, the subtle shift in the very air around us as the realm recognizes its new queen.
I’m no longer the human woman who stumbled into this world barely a month ago. The Yulebond has remade me, forged me in ancient magic until I burn with the same ethereal fire that dances in Aelin’s eyes. My reflection in the polished walls shows silver threading through my dark hair, marks of power spiraling across my skin in intricate patterns that glow with their own inner light.
I am fae now. I am queen. And the council that threatened to tear us apart is about to learn exactly what that means.
“They’re waiting,” Aelin murmurs as we approach the great hall, his hand warm and steady in mine. Through our bond, I can feel his emotions—anticipation, fierce protectiveness, andunderneath it all, a deep satisfaction that rumbles through him like distant thunder. “Are you ready for this?”
“I’ve been ready since the night I knelt before you in that clearing,” I tell him, and my voice carries harmonics now, the music of winter winds and ancient power. “The question is, are they ready for me?”
His smile is sharp as winter ice, beautiful and dangerous. “They’re about to find out.”
The great hall falls silent as we enter, twelve pairs of ancient eyes turning toward us with expressions that range from shock to outright horror. They expected Aelin to arrive broken and defeated, having sacrificed his mate to preserve their precious traditions. Instead, he strides in beside me, radiating power and satisfaction, his golden eyes blazing with the confidence of a king who has nothing left to lose.
And nothing left to fear.
“You called an emergency session,” he says, his voice carrying easily through the cavernous space. “Here I am.”
Morel rises from her seat at the head of the council table, her silver hair gleaming like spun moonlight, her pale eyes fixed on me with undisguised revulsion. “What have you done?” she breathes, and I can hear the horror in her voice. “What abomination have you brought into our sacred halls?”
The insult sends fury racing through my veins, but I keep my expression serene. Let her reveal her prejudice for all to see. Let them all witness exactly what kind of leaders they’ve been following.
“Abomination?” I step forward, and power ripples around me in visible waves, frost spreading from my feet in delicate patterns that mirror Aelin’s own. “Is that what you call your queen?”
“You are not our queen,” Councilor Valdris snarls, his weathered face twisted with disgust. “You are a human pretender, a parasite that has infected our king with madness.”
“Was human,” I correct, letting my new nature unfurl around me like wings. The temperature in the hall drops several degrees, and I watch with satisfaction as several council members shiver despite their warm robes. “Past tense. Would you like a demonstration of what I am now?”
Before anyone can answer, I reach out with my newfound abilities and touch the magical currents that flow through the palace. They respond to my call like eager pets, bending to my will with an ease that surprises even me. The great windows along the eastern wall begin to frost over, creating intricate patterns of ice and starlight that speak of power older than their petty politics.
“Impossible,” Theron whispers, his eyes wide with shock. “The magic shouldn’t respond to her. She’s not of the bloodline.”
“The magic recognizes its queen,” Aelin says, his voice carrying absolute authority. “As should you.”
“This changes nothing,” Morel declares, though I can see the uncertainty flickering in her pale eyes. “Human or fae, she is still an outsider. Still a threat to the ancient bloodlines that have preserved this realm for millennia.”
“Ancient bloodlines,” I repeat, tasting the words like something bitter. “You mean the same bloodlines that have grown weak from centuries of inbreeding? The same noble houses that canbarely produce one heir per generation while their magic grows thinner with each passing decade?”
The accusation hits its mark. I can see it in the way several council members flinch, in the guilty looks they exchange. They know I’m right—the old families are dying out, their power waning as they cling to traditions that no longer serve them.
“You know nothing of our ways,” Lyren hisses, her hands clenched into fists on the table. “Nothing of the sacrifices required to maintain order.”
“Don’t I?” I move closer to the council table, letting them feel the weight of my presence. “I know you’d rather see your king die alone than accept a queen who might actually strengthen your realm. I know you’d murder an innocent woman to preserve your comfortable prejudices. I know exactly what you are—cowards hiding behind tradition because you’re too afraid to embrace change.”
“How dare you—” Valdris starts, but I cut him off with a gesture that sends a lance of ice spearing into the wall inches from his head.
“I dare because I am your queen,” I say, my voice carrying power that makes the very stones tremble. “I dare because I am mated to your king and bonded by magic older than your petty politics. And I dare because you made the mistake of threatening what belongs to me.”
The silence that follows is heavy with tension and fear. These ancient beings, accustomed to deference and unquestioned authority, are finally faced with someone who won’t bow to their will. Someone who has power enough to stand against them.
“The realm will never accept you,” Morel says finally, but her voice lacks its earlier conviction. “Our people will not follow a queen with tainted blood.”
