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He blinked. “Does Taveon know about this?”
“Surely not. After the coronation, the court was struck down by that curse. And now, there’s war. He has no idea I’m bound to him.”
Dagen could scarcely believe what he was hearing. He’d had no idea about any of this, and Midas had confided in Dagen about, well, everything. Or so he’d thought. His old king hadn’t told him what his son was, either. How well had he really known the male?
“Anyway, it hardly matters,” Fillan said. “My contract states I can buy myself out, and you’ve now given me enough gold to do so. I’ll deliver it to Taveon’s quarters, and I’ll be on my way.”
“Wait,” Dagen said, as the dark fae began to stride down the corridor, away from him. Fillan paused. “If the contract is passed along to the next ruler of this realm, then how much of a claim would I have on it?”
Fillan whipped toward him and pressed a dagger to his throat. One that Dagen had not even seen him draw. The sharp point dug into his skin, a piercing pain shooting through him. “Do not even think about it, Lord Dagen. I have served my duty. If you try anything at all to get me to stay, I will kill you.”
And with that, Fillan was gone, leaving Dagen alone to catch his breath and still his racing heart. He palmed the filthy wall and swallowed hard. His mind was reeling from his discoveries, but most of all, shaken by how close he’d come to death. Fillan had gotten what he wanted out of Dagen. Gold to buy his way out of his contract. He no longer needed Dagen alive. The assassin could have easily slit his throat and left him for dead, and no one would have ever known how Lord Dagen had met his end.
He steadied himself, and then stood tall, squaring his shoulders.What ifsdid not matter. The important thing was that he was free, and he could take back that throne. A slow smile spread across Dagen’s face. It was his now.
He cast off his cloak of fear and went up the stairs at the end of the passageway. When he breathed in the fresh air, he wrinkled his nose. There was nothing fresh about it. The scent of fire and smoke and blood hung heavy, like an anchor dragging the castle into a tumultuous sea.
The shouts had died, along with the thunder of footsteps. Dagen cocked his head to listen. Murmur of conversation drifted in from an open window, but there were no sounds of fighting anymore. Interesting. Surely they had not won that easily.
He frowned as he made his way to the throne room. If they had won the battle, sending the demons back into their horrid realm, then the dark fae would celebrate this as Norah’s victory. It might very well lead them to accept not only a woman but a light fae as their ruler.
With a scowl, he hurried forward. He had not been down in that dungeon for long. The tide could not have changed so quickly without him. He would make them see that Norah was a mistake. She would want to end the Tithe.
As he drew closer to the throne room, whispered conversation drifted into his ears. He cocked his head to listen, but whoever it was spoke so quietly that he could not make out the words, even with his enhanced hearing. It was someone well aware that all walls have ears in the fae realms.
And when he stepped through those looming oak doors, he saw at once who it was. Norah perched on the throne.Histhrone. She wore fighting leathers, while her blonde hair hung in a braid down her back. How unbecoming of a queen. She should be in a regal dress and wearing her crown, not pretending to be some kind of warrior she was not.
Her ridiculous mates surrounded her, each representing the four Otherworld courts. Dagen had not bothered to learn their names. One of them was called Roarke, he thought. But he cared little. They had no authority thereorhere.
At one time, Dagen had seen in Bree’s eyes that she wanted to follow in her friend’s footsteps. Multiple mates. Dagen supposed she’d gotten her wish. That thought brought the scowl back to his face.
He glanced around. Conlan and Branok were here, too. He was glad to see them. They were usually on his side and understood why he was well-suited to the task of ruling this realm. Ethne hovered beside Norah. They’d once been allies, but he didn’t trust the fae. Not anymore.
Eurig was nowhere to be seen. Thank the darkness for that.
Norah narrowed her eyes when she spotted Dagen approaching the throne. Anger danced in her eyes, and her hands curled around the throne’s arms. “How the hell did you get out of the dungeons?”
Dagen merely smiled. “I have more allies than you anticipated.”
Lifting her chin, Norah stood. Dagen did nothing to hide his smile. Queen Norah was so new to this world. She didn’t understand that whoever sat on that throne should never stand when someone approached. Especially not an enemy.
Her mates fanned out around her and drew their weapons. All four held deadly, sharpened steel.
Dagen glanced at Ethne, who gritted her teeth. “Surely you see what a terrible idea this is, Lady Ethne. A light fae female on the throne?”
She held out her hands and stepped back. “I’m sorry, Lord Dagen. You’re on your own.”
Conlan and Branok moved behind him, planting their feet on the stone. They drew their weapons, too, though they pointed theirs toward Norah. Dagen smiled.
“We don’t want a light fae female to rule us,” Conlan said through clenched teeth. “Apologies, Queen Norah. We don’t want to fight you, but we will. Lord Dagen is the one who needs to sit on that throne.”
Norah frowned. “Very well. I can’t say I’m surprised. I knew there would be some who would object to something as simple as a member of the opposite sex taking charge. Humanity often has that problem, too.”
“Then you understand our issue,” Lord Dagen said with a smile. As willing as he was to fight, he would prefer to sort this whole thing out without spilling blood. He was not much of a warrior himself. Cleverness was a greater weapon than a sword. “So, let’s just make this easy. You step aside, and I’ll take the throne. There’s no need for us to exchange blows.”
“On the contrary, Lord Dagen. There is.”
