I do not.
It’s foolhardy and disrespectful in ways I have never been before, but if they're all going to hate me for no reason other than my being a witch, I might as well give them something of substance to hate. Seeing the land is broken as it is and feeling its desperate pull on my power has changed something inside me, despite the ice around my heart.
All signs point to this male being at fault for the destruction.
The Savage Prince’s tone is cutting and truthful to the end. “I am a loyal servant to the Fates, as we all are. I don't imagine you're suggesting I go against them, are you, Regent?”
A smattering of murmurs rise around the room, small intakes of breath as people realize what he's saying.
Waving a hand theatrically, the regent replies, “Your fate is well known, nephew! To find your mate and save the lands… Are you so sure this witch has a part in that? The guards all said you brought only one female home with you—does the witch know where your mate is?”
The regent is forcing him to say it.
I hear the clinking sound of iron being ground together in the Savage Prince’s hand, and I watch his movements closely. The high fae have extraordinary hearing; everyone in the room knows that he is holding on to his anger by a thread right now, and a hush falls over the crowd.
The rumors my brother heard of Prince Soren while searching for information about Kharl and the war had indicated that the moniker the Savage Prince came from his fighting prowess, that he’d become unbeatable on the battlefield and that his swordsmanship was unlike any other in the Southern Lands. In the Northern Lands, this was seen as a very promising sign of the ruler to come.
It's not hard to see that the Unseelie Court does not feel the same way.
Well, not entirely. There are definitely faces amongst the crowd who are staring at the regent with unease clear in their eyes, uncomfortable at this reckless display of power and social standing.
“The Seer was very clear about my fate, down to the moment I found her. There is no question that the witch is my mate and destined to rule this kingdom alongside me,” he says. Another ripple runs through the scars on my stomach and back, the Fates chiming in to agree with his words.
I'm the only one who can feel it, of course.
“I would argue that that is definitely treason, Nephew. To even suggest such a thing.”
I feel the fae princes around me close ranks without moving. It’s in the way their senses heighten as they take notice of where the regent’s guards are positioned around us. The only one who does move is the princess, who steps a little closer at her husband’s urging. He’s careful to position her out of the line of fire should things go as terribly as the malevolence in the room suggests.
The Savage Prince shrugs, playing along with the regent’s nonchalant game. “Treason or not, I have never thought myself wiser or more capable than the Fates themselves. I'm surprised thatyouwould suggest such a thing.”
A scandalized buzz spreads around the audience hall. The Unseelie Court watches as the two most powerful males in the kingdom verbally spar, but I’m more careful about marking where the guards are and whether they’re descending upon us. Not that I would do much about it, I'm here only because the Fates have demanded it of me. I'm going to trust that they'll get me through this alive, and if they don’t, then I suppose it will be the Savage Prince’s responsibility to clean up the mess.
I'm sure he could take on a few Ureen himself but I don't like his chances of pulling together an army from this crowd should the Fates open the sky here the way they did in the Northern Lands.
The regent leans back against the ornate cushions of the throne, the picture of relaxation, which only makes the forced urgency of his words even more obvious. “I would never suggest knowing more than the Fates. However, it cannot be denied that this is all quite shocking, to say the least. You can't expect the Unseelie Court to allow such a creature within our ranks. What if she has been sent by the witches? Will we be forced to surrender to them as some sort of parlay? Do you want to take the throne so badly that you’d give up some of our lands to our enemy after they’ve taken so much from us already, nephew? Which royal family are you going to leave homeless?”
A careful sidestep from the sweep of a sword, the regent is a master of bending the opinions of his court to his will.
He doesn’t believe any of what he's saying, but he's coaxing his nephew further into the light, exposing his inner workings to the court in some grotesque trial. Whatever façade he’s created for himself, he thinks it's more palatable than the truth of his nephew and, in the end, none of this is truly about me.
This spectacle is about the regent pointing out the flaws of his flesh and blood so that he can steal the throne from underneath him.
I should care more about this, and yet the same hollow feeling that got me onto the ship to return here still has my body in its grips. I have no sympathy for any of these people. Nothing for the rulers who destroyed the land I once called home, land that still cries out from underneath my feet. That’s where I’ll be focusing the finite reaches of my power. For all I care, the high fae can destroy each other while I do the real work.
The Savage Prince rolls his shoulders back, his voice unwavering as he says, “There’s never been a question of my treatment of witches before, and I have killed more of them than everyone else in this room combined. I have no love for their race, nothing to offer them, not a kind word or a single inch of land.”
He looks around the room at each of the princes and princesses, lords and ladies, every last one of the Unseelie Court, before his eyes finally flick down to me, loathing and distaste emanating from him.
“Were the Fates not involved in this situation, I would have killed her on sight, and should I find any opportunity to have a different fate, she will be taken care of. Swiftly and with no mercy.”
The regent raises a blond, silvery eyebrow, happy to continue to spin his web of beautiful, confusing words. “That seems rather callous of you, nephew, to be so eager to be rid of a mate, especially one fated to you.”
The Savage Prince himself is clear, staring at me, his gaze cold and hard on my own. “If there is any other path the Fates should choose for me, I’ll be the first to drag a knife across her throat.”
CHAPTERTEN
Soren
