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Behind him, a shimmer of light slipped between the goldstone pillars. A shimmer of darkness. No, of light. Ancestors, it changed with each second that passed. It almost looked like the flapping of wings.
What was it?
I blinked rapidly, over and over. Perhaps I’d drunk too much aural. It had been months since I’d partaken, and my brother’s vintner might make a more potent blend than my father’s had.
When I opened my eyes fully again, it was gone. No light, no darkness, and certainly no wings.
Arthur’s bellow filled the hall. “I am pleased to announce that negotiations have been successful. In one month’s time, our court shall be whole once again. My power,” he paused.
Fire bloomed at each fingertip, joining together in a ribbon of flame that he twisted around his fingers, unburnt. Always a show-off.
“My power will join with the terrestrial heir at the Offering, and Annwyn will be secure for another thousand years.”
Whispers started immediately. What sort of power would the terrestrial heir have? Would she be a shifter like the king who had come before? Or another Queen of Roses, like the legends?
I didn’t particularly care. As long as she left me alone and was kind to my brother, I’d accept whomever the terrestrials conjured up to fulfill their half of the Offering.
Arthur pulled Excalibur from its sheath at his hip, raising it high above his head. “Power. Power is life. Power is safety. Power is—”
In the next breath, all the light was extinguished. Every single flame went to nothing, blanketing the hall in darkness. Even the stars in the sky beyond the open arches of the goldstone pillars seemed to wink out. He must’ve had someone summon cloud cover. That would be costly. I fully expected to see one of Arthur’s councilors passed out from the sheer force of power required—whenever my brother deigned to reawaken the flames he’d doused.
But another moment passed. And another.
My stomach tightened, the aural inside it threatening to revolt.
Revolt.
A wet sound slithered through the dark air, a snake uncurling itself. A second later, the whispers began anew.
“You’ve made your point, my liege.”
“—showing off for the delegation.”
Then the yells.
“Enough of this! We know you’re damned powerful!”
“Ancestors, watch where you are walking!”
Then just as suddenly as the darkness had come, it was lifted. I heaved a sigh, resigning myself to cross down to the low tables where the terrestrials waited, to soothe tempers instead of stoking them with sarcastic comments.
But everyone was standing. Every fae in the throne room was on their feet.
And Arthur—
Where my brother had stood a minute before, a mischievous glint in his eye… there was nothing.
Whatever Arthur had planned, it had gone wrong.
Complete chaos gripped the room. The guards rushed the dais and I could not see anything. Ancestors, why had I gotten up from my seat? I shoved aside a servant, shot a glare at a terrestrial who was approaching me—as if I had any more answers than he.
I took a step forward, then stumbled backward as if I’d run straight into a wall. The scent filled my nostrils, my chest, searing a terrible pathway right into the inner confines of my soul.
Blood.
Someone screamed. Not someone—Lyrena.
Another someone grabbed my arm. Even as I spun, allowing myself to be pulled along, to give my captor a momentary advantage, I drew the dagger from my calf and swung it upward.
