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I lurched back at the sight of him, reaching for weapons that were not hanging from my hips. Damien’s eye flared. A deep crease appeared between his brow and patch for the briefest moment, but then it was gone.
“Where have you taken me?” I hissed, fear and anger igniting in my chest.
Damien waved his hand over a patch of grass and a gold throne appeared out of nothing. He sat down, his back perfectly straight instead of slumped over the armrest the way he used to as crown prince. Perhaps that had all been part of his ruse.
“I haven’t taken you anywhere.” Damien’s cold gaze sliced right through me, accentuated by the short cut of his hair. This was not the rowdy prince in front of me, but the king. Someone entirelynew. My muscles tightened sensing something else in his stare. It was stern and hard in a way the prince’s had never been. But I could recognize the contempt he had for me in the slight curl of his lip. And below his hatred and disdain, there was the calculating observer that Damien had spent years hiding away. Now that I knew it was there, Damien couldn’t mask that side of him any longer.
A chill ran down my spine. For the first time, I could see the resemblance between Damien and his brother, Killian. A new wave of fear crashed over me. This was not the aloof prince who spent his time entertaining gentlefolk in his bedchambers and drinking until dawn, this was a patient, strategic mind that had spent decades crafting his plot to seize the crown.
“You have magic?” I asked, pointing to the throne.
Damien gave a stoic nod. “Of a kind.”
Confusion stirred inside me, thoughts whirling in my mind, too fast and too many to catch. My hand rose, feeling my upper arm where Damien had plunged his needle into it before ordering his guards to take me from the throne room, and the whirlwind stopped. “The injection …”
“Another experiment of mine,” Damien answered with no expression and a hard edge to his voice. Both his hands were wrapped tightly around the ends of his armrests. “There is much to be learned from the arts of Fae.”
I blinked. Damien had found a way to cultivate enough magic to mimic the Fae gifts. He had been using that knowledge to fuel his newfound weapons economy, but it was clear he had other inventions he’d been keeping just for himself. I cleared my throat, already knowing what magical gift Damien had gotten inspiration from. “Mindwalking.”
Damien nodded, his back even straighter. “What better way to forge a connection between two minds.” He drummed his fingers along the armrest and bit the inside of his cheek. The hollow under his eye patch darkened.
Nausea gurgled in my stomach. “You experimented on me?”
Damien’s jaw pulsed. “That seems apparent.”
“Why?” The question was off my tongue before I could think the better of it.
Damien’s mouth was a straight line, but there was a ghost of his wicked grin in his eye. “Insurance.”
I straightened my back, sensing the threat but not knowing what form it would take. “You wanted a way to search through my memories?” I lifted my hands uselessly. Whatever this place was, I doubted I could hurt Damien here.
“No.” The first smirk appeared on his lips. “I wanted to show you mine.”
I swallowed down the bile in my throat at the thought of everything Damien might delight in showing me. “Your speech was enough. I don’t need to see how you hung Curringham and Tarvelle. Or what you—”
Damien lifted his chin in victory. “How I killed your chambermaid?”
My breath caught. Both at the idea of seeing Gwyn being cut open by Damien’s own hand, from his own mind, but also because Damien had revealed so much in five simple words.
He didn’t know Gwyn had survived.
I feigned a flinch, pretending the thought of Gwyn’s death was too much to bear. Damien’s thin lip twitched upward.
“Perhaps another time.” Damien tilted his head and I knew he was imagining the pleasure of giving me such pain.
“Then what did you bring me here for?”
Damien stared at me for several long moments, trapping me in his unblinking gaze. When he decided to answer, his tone was hard. “I wanted to show you the consequences of your actions.”
I scoffed, crossing my arms.
Damien’s eye patch shifted as he raised his brows. “Don’t you recognize this place?”
I shrugged, refusing to answer him.
“It is a bit unfinished”—Damien raised his hand and the edge of the small field began to expand—“but I’m surprised you don’t recognize it. It is home after all.”
A strong gust of sea spray filled the air as the Order took shape in front of us. The three towers held us in their shadows, each topped with a giant piece of gemstone, identical to the palace of Koratha visible along the horizon.
