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“Will Brokk allow the Faelands to fall into chaos?”
“No,” I sighed.
“Does he want to rule?”
“Of course not.”
“And what will you do, Raven, when you see that your father has been chained to a role he wants nothing to do with?”
I bowed my head.
“Well?” Draven’s curt tone cut through the thick mesh of my naivety.
“I’ll take his place.”
It would have to be me. Kol was only twelve. Father was a mariner—anchoring him to the Keep would slowly kill his spirit. He never wanted the throne, even when it was his for the taking.
“Wait,” Lyric said. “If you take over, you’ll have to stay at Ansley Keep. That means Cas would have to leave Embour in order to live with you.”
Guilt joined my sad resignation. Had I really thought things would be so simple? In my defense, I’d only been thinking of escaping and healing my broken body. Now that Draven had laid it all out for me, nothing was simple.
I was bloodbound. I would be mystically compelled to go after Sersha, but I could leave Malcolm be. It would pain me, but I could then avoid sentencing my father and my mate to lives they didn’t want.
“And one last thing,” Draven tacked on.
“Only one?” Cas jeered.
“An important one,” he insisted. “Raven, I can only guess that you agreed to a blood oath with Malcolm because you were desperate for your freedom.”
I held my tongue, upholding the words I’d spoken to the Fae Queen’s Consort.
“If his half of the bargain was to give you your freedom, and in doing so you agreed to challenge his mate, then I would propose that your agreement has been rendered null and void.”
My head shot up. “What do you mean?”
“Who freed you, Raven?”
“Malcolm.”
“Are you sure about that?”
I rifled through what I could remember of those minutes with the Consort. “He unlocked the chain anchoring me to the table.”
“But who was it that got you away from the Keep?”
I leaned forward on my elbows, suddenly feeling very alert. “My father.”
Stupid, stupid, Raven.
Malcolm had unlocked the chains securing me, but technically, he hadn’t set me free. I was still locked inside Sersha’s sad little room when Father found me and took me away from that hell.
I looked around the table at each of them. “Then I guess I’m not actually bloodbound.” My eyes rose to the ceiling, as though the gods might take pity on me. “I swear I’m not always this dimwitted.”
Lyric said something that my head didn’t register. I was too busy considering the merits of poking myself in the eyeball with a fork as punishment for my stupidity. I paid no mind to how in Nyx’s name Draven was able to draw all the right conclusions, too focused on my idiocy.
Cas slumped back in his chair, patting my knee. I wished I felt the same sense of relief. Without the blood oath, Malcolm was under no obligation to do anything on my behalf.
But still ...
