Page 147 of Three Dark Kings and the Gilded Serpent

Chapter Fifty-Three

Thyra

Ipress the heel of my hand to my heart, unable to keep reading, although I have the presence of mind to keep a finger pressed to the parchment.

“This must be a lie.” I expected Stellen and Antony to be in an uproar already, pacing the room as I want to pace, exclaiming and shouting as I want to shout.

They’re deathly silent.

“She sounds afraid,” Antony says, planting his hands on the table.

“Her voice is not what I expected.” Stellen reaches for the satchel and draws out a yellowed scroll, flattening it for us to see. “This is her.”

My breath catches at the beauty of the illustration of the False Queen, even though, as always, her features are concealed by a curtain of her hair.

“It’s difficult to see what color her eyes are, or her skin, or her hair,” Stellen says, slowly tilting the scroll in the light. “Her features appear different depending on the slant of light. Even her height is difficult to pinpoint. But on the back of this page are descriptions of her.”

He turns the page over to reveal a full page of text. Not cramped. This writing is neat and unhurried.

Stellen points to various parts of the text. “Her beauty is described as beyond compare, her power breathtaking. Here it’s said that no assassin could touch, and here, she’s described as generous and kind. Those nearest to her are said to have been unbreakably loyal.” He leans back, returning to my side. “I always considered these attributes to have been a consequence of her shrewd cunning and ability to deceive. We can’t take anything at face value, but these are the words of the Ferocie Scribes who lived during her reign.”

I speak carefully. “During my last blade vision, when her spirit revealed the blood bind’s purpose, I asked her why she was doing all of this. She said, ‘Because I’m owed.’”

I take a moment, remembering the pain in her voice. The first real hints of emotion.

With a deep breath, I continue. “She said, ‘They took and took until they took too much.’ She vowed she wouldn’t allow them to do that to me.”

“‘Them,’” Stellen says, “As in: us.”

I nod. “The three kings.”

His focus falls to the page in front of me. “Her letter implies that the Frost General and Iron General betrayed the prince.”

On my other side, Antony speaks again, far more quietly than I expected at this accusation against his ancestor. “If we consider the possibility…and I’m not saying I believe it…that she didn’t curse the blade, but she was blamed for it, then whatever happened to her after she wrote this letter could have changed everything for her.”

Stellen hunches where he stands. “This letter represents a point in time. Anything could have happened after this. A single event can turn a fae away from reason and make them a monster.” His voice strained. “I have lived this.”

“As have I.” Antony, too, hunches beside me.

I stare up at him with wide eyes. He was the one who first told me about the False Queen and the curse. When he spoke of it, he was angry and distrustful. He didn’t believe a word I tried to speak in my defense.

But a lot has happened between then and now.

Lies have spilled out into the open. Heartache has been revealed. And now both he and Stellen stand at my side, a bond between us that I never imagined could exist.

“Is there more, Thyra?” Antony asks.

“The entire page is crammed with writing. I’m only halfway through.”

“Can you continue?” This question is from Stellen, whose heart beats calmly but whose voice betrays the worry he feels for me.

I give him a nod and once again, I begin to read.

I did not curse the blade.

Judging by your reaction to reading this, I have uttered a heresy and must conclude that history will reflect what I fear: the generals have attributed the curse to me. For some part, I do not blame them. What other being could deliver a curse so powerful as to tear my husband’s kingdom into three?

Truly, I ask: what other power? This question has left me sleepless and fearful in my grief.