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My breath sucked in. Was that because he was afraid of his father learning I was his mate? That he knew the king could beat me, starve me, and torture me as he had his mother? Given what Norivun had revealed, it wouldn’t be above his father to also use me as a weapon to ensure his son stayed obedient.
My heart pounded as all of those strange comments fell into place. “Does all of this have anything to do with why your mother always looks so lonely?”
He nodded. “My father forbids her from interacting with other fae, and a long time ago, he built a magic-tethering chamber within this castle using spells I still don’t fully understand that trapped my mother’s affinities within her. I destroyed that chamber once I found out, but ever since that incident, she can’t access her magic normally. Sometimes, she’ll get glimpses of it, but no amount of effort on my part has found a way to counteract what he did and free her from the cage he’s locked her in. Now, she has to practice deep breathing regularly to keep her affinities at bay, otherwise she’ll implode without being able to properly utilize her Outlets.”
I made a sound, a half-strangled sob at the thought of living like that, and then with a crashing realization, I remembered that I’d witnessed her struggles. The way the queen had acted when I’d woken following the snowgum’s attack had been so bizarre. She’d looked rattled and had started taking strange, deep breaths.
It had to be true, everything the crown prince was saying. I’d seen firsthand the affects her locked magic had on her.
“But her hair’s hidden beneath her illusion spell, right? So she must be able to use some magic.”
He shook his head. “Her hair used to be hidden under one of her illusion spells, before my father suppressed her power. Now, I conceal it undermyillusion spell at her request.”
My eyes widened, and I thought back to the day she’d visited me wearing a scarf. “Did she ask you to remove the illusion the day the snowgum attacked you?”
He cocked his head. “She did when she came to the infirmary to see me.”
Bitterness and anger rose in me simultaneously, making my lip curl. I’d suffered abuse in my life, but nothing as vicious as what Queen Lissandra had endured.
I took a moment to compose myself, but my voice still shook when I asked, “So even though you do as the king says, he still abuses your mother?”
The prince shrugged ruefully. “The abuse she suffers is the lesser of the two evils. He won’t beat or starve her if I continue doing as he wants, but he knows that she’s nearly as powerful as me. If my mother’s magic was freed, either of us could kill him if we chose to, no matter how many guards he has surrounding him, so he controls me through her, and her by trapping her affinities.” He took another sip of whiskey, his expression bitter. “My father is always thinking ahead. I can guarantee that he has other safeguards in place if the day ever comes that one of us decides to betray him. It’s another reason I can’t kill him outright or assassinate him covertly.”
“But why?Whydoes he do that at all? You’re his family. Family protects and loves one another.”
“Not everyone’s father is like yours, Ilara. My father has been ruling the northern continent for hundreds of winters, longer than any king. That reign hasn’t come from kindness. He’s brutal and ruthless, and above all, he relishes power. He’s done whatever’s been necessary to keep his throne and any threats to it at bay.”
“And now it’s being threatened.”
He nodded. “My father refuses to admit there’s a problem with the crops because he’s lived for so long and has seen so many magical cycles of our continent that he’s convinced it’s merely a delay in the celestial events, and eventually, our land’soremwill be replenished, but he’s wrong even if he won’t admit it. If the celestial events truly have stopped, he’s powerless to fix that. I don’t think he wants to accept that, because this would be the first time in his reign that he can’t control the outcome of our continent.”
“So he’s buried his head in the sand because he doesn’t like the consequences?”
“He has. I’ve tried to talk sense into him. It’s no use. He’s convinced the land will thrive again if we just wait it out.”
“And meanwhile, fae will starve.”
“Correct. They’ll starve and grow bitter and angry that nothing’s being done, but that’s where I come in. If I control any wayward fae who takes it upon themselves to cause unrest, other fae will see that and stay quiet. It makes me the hated one, not him, so he continues his rule, and nothing threatens his power while he waits for theoremto reappear.”
“Yet, there’s been talk of war and if the king should stay in power.”
“My father’s been watching the council members who are stirring such talk. He hasn’t outright told me to kill them, but I know if they step too far, he will.”
“But...can you do that?”
He shook his head. “If I killed them, the uproar from the fae of our continent would be so great that even my father would have no choice but to kill me as payback.”
“But he’d still risk that. Sacrificing his own son, silencing the council members who oppose him, and all for what? To stay in power?”
“He’ll do anything to keep control. His brutality has no bounds.”
“Norivun,” I said sadly, achingly. I’d been so wrong about him, about everything.
He stilled.
Lips parting, I realized it was the very first time I’d ever called him by his given name.
His chest rose and fell swiftly with each breath as his hand inched across the sofa until it rested near mine. I looked at his long fingers, his large palm. He stayed rigid, waiting—waiting to see if I would accept him.
