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What did the prince whose talents lay in causing pain so extreme it drove Fae to madness and humans to death think was painful?
What did the male who could clear a battlefield by threat of his presence alone think was violent?
“Like what?”
29
LONNIE
THE CUTTHROAT DISTRICT, INBETWIXT
“Iassume my grandmother knew the rebellion was coming,” Scion began, shifting to lean against the counter.
I held my breath and rocked back on my heels to put a fraction more space between us. I had no idea what to expect out of this and no reason to think it would be a pleasant conversation, but somehow, he’d captivated my attention with only a few words.
“Grandmother Celia was the best seer born since the Oracle of Isles End, but she didn’t always share her knowledge with us.”
“Why not?” I asked.
He smiled bitterly. “Knowing the future will inevitably change it, but not always in the way one expects. She was very precise about when and with whom she shared her prophecies—it was maddening.”
I raised my eyebrows. In the years I worked in the palace, I’d only seen Queen Celia once, as she almost never left her chambers. It was odd to hear her spoken about thus by someone who not only knew her personally but found her “maddening.” Like if someone told me that the ancient Queen Aisling, who we swore by, actually feared the dark and had terrible table manners.
“So if she knew about the rebellion, why wouldn’t she try to stop it?” I asked.
“I’m getting to that.” He grimaced. “Just over two decades ago, the volcano that is the source of all magic erupted for the first time since the age of Queen Aisling. There was no warning, even for the seers, and within a single day, the city of Nightshade was destroyed.”
“I know,” I said uncomfortably. “Everyone knows what happened in Aftermath.”
“Aftermath” was what they called Nightshade after it had been destroyed by the eruption of the Source. At first, everyone had spoken of “the aftermath of the catastrophe in Nightshade,” but after two decades, now the area was simply known as Aftermath. I always squirmed to hear this story as I was intimately connected to it in a way that others were not. I’d been born in the burning city on the same day as the disaster.
If my discomfort showed on my face, Scion didn’t seem to notice. He stared straight through me as he continued his story as if I hadn’t spoken. “When the Source erupted, the city was effectively crushed. A third of the population died in the initial explosion, and another third died in the days that followed, some from injuries, others from lack of resources or infighting. By the time that soldiers and healers from Overcast arrived to help, there was only a fraction of the people left.”
“Why from Overcast?” I asked too fast. “Why not here?”
“I don’t know how you can have lived your entire life on this continent and know so little.”
I flushed and looked down. “Bael mentioned some history,” I said, somewhat defensively. “I am not totally ignorant.”
His face split into a wide grin. “Oh, then you’re doubly fucked. Never take Bael’s advice on anything but wine, horses, or women.”
He seemed to realize what he’d said because he closed his mouth a bit too fast, but I was too focused on his face to focus much on what he was saying. The contrast between his stoic scowl and when he smiled—actually smiled—was staggering. Like striking a match in pitch-darkness. My heartbeat picked up a fraction, and I chewed on the inside of my lip, willing my breathing to even out.
“Er.” Scion cleared his throat, looking back at his hands. “To answer your question…Inbetwixt and Nevermore have their own armies and governing families. Inbetwixt would strongly prefer to succeed from the kingdom, but as you saw earlier, it would be impossible. Nevermore has considered leaving in the past but ultimately stayed. They are not a culture that relishes war.”
“And Overcast?”
“Overcast has never had their own army nor a culture much separate than ours. Their lord and lady are distant cousins of my family.”
Not quite so distant from what Thalia said, but I didn’t think it was worth interrupting him to ask about. I remembered what he’d said to Thalia when she was explaining how they did things in Overcast, about how they didn’t fight wars. “So Overcast is your northern outpost,” I said shrewdly. “To keep everyone else in line.”
He glanced sideways at me. “I suppose so. Of course, at one time, every city was its own individual entity. When the continent first united under Queen Aisling, Nightshade was the capital, so one cannot claim this was entirely by design.”
“Perhaps not by design but intervention.”
He nodded, conceding the point. “We keep forces stationed in Overcast at all times, so those soldiers were the closest when the Source erupted. Only by the time they arrived to help, it was too late to do much more than collect the dead.”
I sighed, knowing there was far more to this story. We’d begun with his desire to explain how difficult ruling could be, and if this horrible history was merely the background, I wasn’t sure I wanted to get to the end, yet I couldn’t help but demand to know more. “Then what?”
