Lethal Kings: The Fae Dynasty, #2

They say beauty is in the eye of the beholder, but the fae realm would be beautiful to anyone. Except Eliza, apparently. Her lips pressed furiously tight as the chariot glided onward, taking her on her first tour of the glorious realm where every country floated in the sky without roots, stars burned brighter than gems, and magnificence dripped from every dazzling mountain peak adorned with lanterns. We passed by a waterfall spilling from the edge of one country, sending an endless stream through the night, every drop pure white.

To Eliza, it might as well have all been burnt tundra.

Her shoulders pinched back as her hands gripped the rails, and her gaze made frequent trips toward the south where the mortal realm had disappeared and only darkness remained. I made a mental note to thoroughly explain that jumping off would not lead her to the mortal realm.

When can we visit home? she asked.

The three ambassadors in the chariot with us didn’t hide their grimaces well. My stomach clenched. We’ll talk about that soon, I whispered.

As if our speaking had broken some rule of silence, the silver-haired fae held out a slender hand. I can take the bracelet. The lords of Bastian’s court will be missing it.

My stomach sank further. The golden bracelet still clasped to my wrist was more than jewelry. Bash had stolen the enchanted jewelry at a great risk to his reputation and delivered it with the promise that I could use it to steal the power of an ambassador. In doing so, I’d become fae myself and escape the threat of impending death that all Mortal Queens are blessed with. It was to be my freedom. Or so I thought.

Shortly before my departure to the mortal realm earlier today, Odette informed me Bash was lying and that the bracelet would transfer the power to him, leaving me dead before I ever turned fae. That alone made me want to throw this bracelet into the abyss, but instead, my fingers tightened around it. It had great value to the lords, and that gave me power. I’ll hold on to it.

To give to King Bastian? By the way her brow lifted, she suspected a romantic relationship had formed between us, and it bothered her. She might have been right before, but now the relationship was weaker than my faith in survival.

No. I’ll give it directly to the lords.

Her hand wavered before dropping reluctantly. I held rank over her, and she couldn’t argue. But as she spoke, her words dipped in displeasure. See that you do.

The mental clock ticked in my head. Still hours until midnight. Thanks to my tenuous alliance with Lord Winster, the silver-haired fae was under obligation to say yes to anything I asked until that point, which would have allowed me to take her power as the ambassador—if only I had a way to hold the power.

I wondered if she knew what I had planned. By now, she must.

Beside me, Eliza crossed her arms. Why didn’t you visit us? The accusation was clear in the tone of her voice, and it pulled me from my thoughts.

I tried.

That sounded weak, but she didn’t know the extent of it. I’d crafted deals with kings and alliances with those who made my skin crawl. I’d poured myself into the mysterious messages hidden within paintings. I’d spent days without sleep as I searched for answers. I’d thrown myself from the edge of the island, falling aimlessly, desperate to find home.

It had all been in vain.

But Eliza didn’t know any of that. All she knew was that I left and didn’t return. You promised Malcom, she reminded me.

If Eliza pushed too hard, she’d see me cry. I straightened my spine. She shook her head and turned away. I tried to recall if I’d been this stubborn for Gaia, but all that did was make my insides twist harder until I struggled to compose myself. Her death still rested too close in memory.

Below, the shimmering lights of the Mortal Queens’ palace came into view, nestled on the edge of a floating country with towering forests of amber trees growing behind it. The fae would be gathered there, and I appreciated the distraction from the tension in the chariot. I pushed myself close to the rails to see my fae home.

One thing piqued my interest above all else.

A mist of darkness blanketed the kingdom. The courtyard, though still far away, was ablaze with torch flames that gleamed from golden accents, but beyond the small palace, the kingdom lay in absolute darkness. The sort of darkness that swallowed even the night and sucked the beauty from everything around it. The kind that looked like death. It hadn’t been like this before Gaia died. But now it was so bleak, I could hardly make out any details or see the trees. It was inhabited territory, but it ought to be lit up with the usual lanterns over polished wells, pathways of glittering stone, or quaint jars of shimmering light atop ivy-covered pedestals. The little I could see was coated in spiderwebs and layers of grey, like color refused to live there. It pained me.

What happened? Was the realm dying?

Talen’s words came to mind. We cannot live without our queens.

It was more than the palace. The whole kingdom was drenched in despair so thick I could practically taste the bitterness of it, and my heart tore in two. It had been torn so often these past few hours that I wasn’t sure it could be put back together again, and I bet if I were fae, I’d be the second one to have their glass heart shattered beyond repair.

We’d neared enough to hear cheering. To Eliza, the fae would sound nothing but happy. But I could hear the sorrow within them.

Welcome our new queen.

Mourn the old.

I’d been too blind to see their pain last year when the previous queen, Ivory, had died. But I felt it now, how Gaia’s absence hung in the air like a shroud until it was all I could see. The fae were heartbroken. My kingdom was falling. I was returning to them—no longer as the hopeful, wide-eyed girl I’d been last year—but as a fragmented and lost person.

I almost didn’t hear when Eliza spoke again. What do we do?

I shook myself to refocus on her. She was taking everything in, and, for the first time, looking awed at the crowds as the rigid line of her jaw smoothed. A distasteful fire still burned in her eyes, but now it was paired with curiosity.

My throat cleared. We introduce them to their queen. Keep your mask on and your head high. Tell them how happy you are to be here. I put emphasis on that so she knew I meant to lie. Don’t let them see anything other than that.

Simple enough.

But it wasn’t. This world was so much more complicated.

The five of us were lowered into the thick of the cheering, with fae at all sides clamoring to be the first to see their new queen. The moment our chariot touched the stone ground, their cheers heightened. They’d left us a circle in the middle, right where I’d once played chess against King Brock and lost. Torches lined the arch, tall ones with claws holding the fire at the top, and spikes that dove deep into the stone. The ambassadors departed first, standing in a line near the back of the circle, facing the palace.

Smiles were present on the faces of every fae—in colors of gold, silver, and red. Earrings stretching to their shoulders, broaches as bright as the sun adorning their clothes, and gems threading through their hair. It was extravagance of the most luxurious kind.

I looked beyond them, to the windows I’d stared from while trapped inside for three months. The balcony where Bash would leave messages. To Gaia’s room, where she’d died.

It would now be Eliza’s, and she’d never know what we lost.

I slipped a hand into Eliza’s and led her from the chariot.

My fellow friends, I began. I have returned to you with a whole heart. Lie. My time away was short, but I missed you greatly. Bigger lie. Now I have returned with one who will be such a blessing to us. That part might be true. I lifted Eliza’s hand high as her eyes grew wide, taking it all in. I present to you, your new High Queen of the East—Queen Eliza!

As they cheered, I located the burning torch nearest me, one with an emerald handle. I drew it from its place in the ground, while gesturing for Eliza to take the flameless one beside her. As the fae gave voice to their approval, I ignited her flame.

She held it high. Eliza had once longed for this as much as I had, and had no doubt spent years playing pretend that she was a chosen queen. Now, I watched her raise a shield and put that disguise on—one of a fearless queen. A visible tremor ran through her arms, but she spoke confidently. It is an honor to be selected as your new queen. I will forever thank the fae for choosing my name from the bowl, and I hope to serve you well.

Choosing my name from the bowl. My gaze darted to the silver-haired fae. She hadn’t selected my name a year ago, and I’d known from how she had refused to show it to Gaia and instead burned the paper. Today, she had neglected to show me as well.

That treacherous being. My dislike for her grew.

I whispered to Eliza. Walk past the seven thrones and through the doors. I’ll meet you inside.

That’s it?

They’ll get a full look at their new queen at a later celebration. For now, they get nothing more than a taste. I mirrored Gaia’s words to me. Would this be how my final year went? Forever replaying the words of Gaia as I walked in her steps?

No, it wouldn’t. Because last year, Gaia had hung her head low and retreated into herself, but I wouldn’t succumb. Instead, I turned to the silver-haired fae—not caring who saw the altercation.

Show me the name.

Her eyes widened, and she shot a look to those around us. I pressed, Show me the proof that Eliza was rightfully chosen today. I want to see the paper.

She slipped two fingers into her pocket and brought it out. That’s right, my Queen. I forgot to let you kiss it. Do you wish to do so now, to wish her luck?

I half-expected her to toss it into the flames, but instead, she handed it to me. I quickly opened it.

Eliza Nadine Nadell

No. I flipped it over. The odds were too low. There were thousands of eligible girls on the center island. It’s a trick, I said out loud. You came with her name in hand.

There is no trick. She snatched it back. Perhaps your luck has simply run out. She turned on her heel to sweep away into the thick crowd, but my hand shot out to grab her arm.

Who ordered you to bring me to this realm? I asked. Will you answer me honestly?

It wasn’t what I’d intended to use my limited power over her for, but it would work nonetheless. I had until midnight to force her to say yes, and an opportunity like that shouldn’t be squandered.

She went stiff, and her lips seemed to move with struggle. Yes, someone did ask it of me.

Tell me who.

She fought it, but the words escaped her lips. A king.

I let go, and she took the chance to flee. I didn’t chase.

A king.

Which king? Someone had been playing me from the start, and I intended to know why.

With both her and Eliza gone, I had nothing to distract from the madness around me. The courtyard was too loud. The fae too close. My head too conflicted. It all pressed against me until I could focus on nothing other than getting away.

Bony fingers pressed into my arms as the fae questioned where I’d been over the past few months and if I was going to leave again. Questioned Gaia’s death. Questions I didn’t know how to answer. The easiest ones were about Eliza and what sort of queen she would be. Cunning? Tricky? Illusive? Practical, I thought. Then spoke.

It is not for me to say. You will get to know her tonight. I bent my head low and pushed through the crowds, until coming to the feet of the seven thrones where the kings sat.

They stared at me blankly, as if we were playing a game and I’d already lost. My eye wandered to the end thrones. Along with the seventh king, Bash was missing.

It was for the best. I wasn’t certain what to say to him yet.

A king had called me here. Was it Bash? Or one of the others? I studied them again. One of you is playing a game with me. I won’t go down without a fight.

Last year, I hadn’t been frightened enough. I was now.

One year remaining.

I slipped through the grand double doors and shut them behind me, blocking out some of the noise. I knew what would happen next. The fae would leave, and all would fall silent. Only the sound of the river would remain, running from the two thrones and through the center of the throne room, splitting it in two.

Eliza stood on the eastern side of it, staring at the chairs that were once so magnificent. Now they were more like shrines. Tributes to another time. My three stars were still embedded in mine, but they barely held any remaining shine.

I walked along the western side, stopping before my throne and looking over the stream to her. I’m sorry. There was nothing else I could think to say.

She wiped a tear from her cheek. It wasn’t unusual to miss home, but as far as I knew, every queen had felt as I had—excited to see this realm and exploding with joy upon being chosen. I’d walked into my role as queen eagerly, even though I missed my brothers. I could almost laugh now at how eager I was to meet the queens chosen from all the years prior, certain we’d have some grand tea party together. But Eliza appeared immune to all things fae. She hadn’t been like this before. Even last year, when she was already courting my brother, she longed to be picked. Something had changed within her, and it was recent.

I shouldn’t be here, she said, as if reading my thoughts.

I saw your name on the paper. I reached a hand across the stream to her, but she didn’t take it. We will find a way to fix this.

It should have been impossible, she spoke as if I wasn’t there. We made sure of it.

There was no way to be certain. Every year, they inscribed the names and placed them in the bowl the night before the fae came. And throughout the night, it was guarded by fifty soldiers. Every year, girls tried to sneak in and add their names in abundance, but they never got through. That bowl was more heavily protected than the governor himself. In equal measure, there would be no way to get one’s name out.

But if anyone could do it, I’d bet my brother was smart enough to find a way. Did Cal do something?

She closed her eyes at the mention of him. Her words were a dainty breath, small and dry. Show me the way home.

I am going to get you home, I promised. You will see Cal again.

No, Althea. Now.

I swallowed, and she nodded as if I’d spoken.

I knew it, Eliza said. Something traps us here, doesn’t it? It’s not luxury that keeps the mortals in this realm, it is a curse. I didn’t need to say anything for her to know that was true. She wiped another tear from her eye. What now?

I motioned to the grand stairwell on her side of the stream. The sweeping banister was less polished now, covered in cobwebs, and the stones cracked in places. It didn’t give the same magnificent appearance it had when I first arrived. Instead, it was like pointing toward a coffin. You are the High Queen of the East, while I rule the west. I indicated my own side that mirrored hers perfectly. You’ll go up those stairs and choose your first alliance.

She drew a hand down her face, tugging at her skin in a weary gesture. Alliance?

I wished to give her something simple. Go up those stairs and enjoy some dates. We will visit the mortal realm tomorrow. All will be calm and joyful. Instead, I found myself at a loss for words to describe this land she’d been dragged into. Still, I would try.

We don’t rule like we’ve read about in stories. There is no typical monarchy here. Instead, our kingdom thrives on power—the more power you have, the more your kingdom will prosper. Soil will be rich and harvest plentiful. Light will burn brighter. Civilians will feel healthier. And the way to gain this power is through alliances with others. Smart alliances with powerful people will acquire respect. Too many alliances dim the value of each one and put you at risk of them breaking away, but too few and you aren’t strong enough. An alliance with a king is preferred.

There are kings? A hint of worry swelled in her voice.

Not one that you must marry, I assured her. You are queen in your own right and always will be. But yes, there are seven kings. One went missing a few hundred years ago, but six remain.

Her gaze swept over the drabby room. Did you not have alliances?

She couldn’t know how that sent a blade into my heart. This was the room where I’d thrown parties. Where I’d tricked Bash into bowing at my feet. Where I’d celebrated with Talen and Odette. I made two of my alliances in this palace and announced my third here. But the room had fallen into despair.

I had three, I explained, hoping she didn’t notice how my voice thinned. One with the House of Delvers, who rank right below the kings. One with Lord Winster, who tricked me into it. And one with a king, who was deceiving me.

When I summarized my time here like that, it sounded dejecting.

So this world is a game?

I nodded. It’s a game we will win. I promise.

She sighed. I just want to sleep. I’ll feel better in the morning when the light comes.

Um, about that.

Eliza froze as she headed toward the stairs, then sent me a sharp look like she couldn’t take any further bad news. I cleared my throat. There is no light here. Only night.

She set her jaw and marched up the stairs.

First door on your right, I called out, but she gave no reply.

Guilt dug into me. She’d be opening a door to an empty room and three fae representatives asking her to make her first alliance. If I’d thought about it, I would have sent her straight to my room to rest first. But the alliance would fill her room soon enough, and she wouldn’t be saved by me protecting her from the realm. She had to meet it headfirst. That was how we’d win.

I stared after her, hoping she’d choose Talen. With his resemblance to Cal, she might. But I could not help her with that decision. And I had other matters to attend to.

Before I could, my name floated down from the west. Odette stood at the top of the stairs wearing an ivory gown and a pained expression like she felt every ounce of my sorrow. She’d been disappointed by the one she loved a long time ago. She cherished this kingdom just as I did. More than that, she felt my emptiness at losing Gaia. Every wound in my heart was mirrored in hers.

She flew down the stairs and wrapped her arms around me. Talen and I have been searching all day for a way to get you back to your realm, she said. We will not stop. You will live.

I tightened our embrace in thanks. Then I looked at her. Take care of Eliza for me. She’s like family.

Of course. She combed her hands through my hair, smoothing it out.

And make sure whoever she aligns with gets the softest mattress for her room, and a wool just as thick as mine.

She grinned. I will. When I moved away, she caught me by the hand. Where are you going? She looked at me as if I were a fragile animal who might die in the wild without her protection.

I felt that way. But I summoned courage until a strength surged within me, along with an assurance to make smarter moves this year. Starting with making my peace with everything I’d just gone through.

To pay my respects to Gaia. I wanted to say goodbye before I moved on. My plan was to walk outside to have a moment for her since the courtyard should be cleared, but Odette held on to my hand.

Then come with me. We have a special ceremony for our fallen queens. A tear came to her eye. We always say goodbye.

I let her lead me to the east, not up the stairs, but under them. She moved a tapestry aside to push on the marble. The slab opened. A golden hallway stretched before us, covered in speckles of black dust with soot marks along the walls beneath dimly burning oil lamps. A musky scent filled my nose.

What is this place? I wrapped my arms around myself to shield from the sudden chill.

Her reply echoed. A hallway only used once a year.

There were no paintings, vases, or signs of life. Nothing but dead rose petals at our feet, some freshly plucked and still ripe with red, others left from ages ago and now blackened, disintegrating underneath our steps. Petals for the fallen queens, years gone by. They collected in my skirts and stuck to the underside of my slippers as I walked.

After a hundred paces, we reached a second door, this one arched and built of driftwood. Or perhaps it had once been oak, but now was decayed beyond recognition. This was more than the damage to the realm from the queens who’d been missing for eight months. This hallway had long been soaked in death.

Odette opened the door, and I inhaled a breath of fresh air. The hallway led to a small pond at the back of the palace that glistened with still waters until it met the edge of the island, only held in by a wall of stone, or else it would spill into the endless sky. Fae gathered in the large courtyard, one that rivaled the size of the courtyard in the front. All of them looked to the pond. I wove through to get a better look before seeing the casket. It bobbed in the water. Fae came one by one to dip their hands in and mumble a few words, each paying their respects to the fallen queen.

Odette advanced with the crowd, but I stayed for a few minutes, staring at the casket.

Gaia. My sweet friend. I wasn’t certain if we were true friends, but she was the only one who could have known what I was going through. She had been brave as she faced her fate and wore her death sentence with a strength I hadn’t noticed as I ran wild looking for answers. She never crumbled. She never fled. She was a queen to the very end.

A lump rose in my throat, and like Odette, a tear slid down my cheek. Then another. Finally, I found the strength to step forward. She would be missed—by the fae, by me, and by her family. She would be remembered.

When all others had taken their turn, I dipped my fingers into the water and lifted my eyes to the casket. It was an old, leaden thing, with brass-bound spools up the sides and a handsome black fabric stretched tight between them. Decadent brocade wove throughout in silver thread. I pictured her inside. Dark hair clinging to the dainty curve of her shoulders, and seven golden earrings bound to her ear. That straight smile she always wore, now permanently etched on her lips. Her pure white mask still on her face.

Take it off, I thought.

I stood. Take it off.

A few, startled by my sudden order, looked to me. I stepped into the pool, letting the frigid water swarm to my waist. Sharp rocks sliced against my slippers as I moved, but they didn’t stop me. Nor did the shouts of the fae behind me. The somber mood shattered, and the silence fled, replaced with alarmed cries and splashing water as I shamelessly trudged to the casket while it rocked from side to side with the waves I created.

My fingers fumbled for the clasp, finding a silver latch and yanking upward. I trembled when I placed my hands beneath the lid to open it.

My Queen, don’t, Odette’s voice came from behind me. She’d entered the water as well but stood several paces back. She’s gone.

But she’s not free, I said.

I lifted the lid.

Gaia lay inside, skin pale and body still. The fae gave a collection of gasps behind me, but none were trying to stop me. Thankful for that, I took my time reaching for Gaia’s mask, then pried my fingers underneath it.

Masks are enchanted with some sort of fae power. Mine felt like skin to my fingers and moved as if it were. Now that Gaia was dead, I hoped hers would come loose. I was right.

Tenderly, I removed her mask and placed it beside her. For the first time in two years, she was free to be human again.

She was a captain’s daughter, so her face was one I had known before she ever came to the fae realm, but she’d grown more beautiful in her years here. Even with her eyes shut, every trace of her features was perfect, with high cheekbones, silky hair, and a curve of her lips like she held a secret. Another tear fell, landing on her cheek. I brushed it away with a promise.

You will be the last Mortal Queen to fall. I will find a way to end this.

I sealed the lid. Then, as a hush fell over the fae, I pushed the casket to the end of the pond, right where the stone met the air. The edge of it grated against the rocks. I peeked over my shoulder until I found Odette, looking for confirmation that this was how they buried their dead—with an eternity among the stars. She nodded.

With a tight throat and damp cheeks, I pushed the fallen High Queen of the East over the edge and let the casket fall.

I trudged back through the pond and climbed out, aiming for the drafty corridor. Odette barricaded me with stiff arms and a hushed whisper. Queen Eliza will need your help. You should go to her.

Eliza will have to manage, I said, passing by her to enter the dark, dusty tunnel once more. A renewed sense of fight filled me—determination not to end up like Gaia. I have someone else to see.

Thea. From the echo of her voice, she’d entered the tunnel too. I quickened my pace. You cannot trust him.

She hadn’t even said his name, yet my voice came out strained. I know.

I moved too fast for further questions, or to form a proper plan. All I knew was Bash had betrayed me, and if I’d gone through with his idea to steal power from the ambassador today, they’d be pushing a second casket off the island. I strode out of the tunnel, through the throne room, and to the main courtyard. There, I flung my hand up and waited for a chariot to spot me. It only took a moment for one to glide down and settle on the tiles. I climbed aboard.

Take me to King Bastian.

It took off. I grasped the rail as the wind caught my wet skirts and plucked dead rose petals away, until droplets of water and petals flew behind me. I checked my wrist for the ambassador’s bracelet. Still there. Several fae had likely seen it at the funeral. There would be whispers soon, poisonous words darting through the night sky at a speed too fast to stop.

It would be Bash’s neck on the line this time. Not mine.

I’d loved him.

He’d almost killed me.

Before long, the high peaks of Bash’s home came into view. Snow capped the sleek, black mountains, and thick clouds brewed overhead to release flurries of brilliant white. Of all the places I’d been to in this realm, this palace remained the most breathtaking. Floor to ceiling windows carved into the side of the mountain with ever-burning lanterns of polished iron mounted along wooden rails. Lavish curtains hanging over ever-opened windows, the fabric billowing outward to dance in the wind. Fires burning to light various courtyards. The crimson glow bounced from my soaked dress as we neared.

My chariot settled on the wide, grey stone patio that backed to the edge of the cliffs. I stepped off, looking to the great double doors cast with metal.

I’ll be right back, I informed my chariot. The misty orb that guided the chariot glittered in response.

I pushed against the doors, not bothering to knock.

Just as in my home, his opened directly to his throne room. But the similarities ended there. Black floors at my feet. A wicked fire blazed along the north side, running the entire length of the space to illuminate a dark throne with two spindles on each end. And at the right-hand side of the throne, the cloche with his unbreakable glass heart. Red silk covered it now, but I knew what rested underneath. Solid glass. A sign that he’d never cared for anyone.

The stories about his heart should have been my sign to stay away. I’d received many warnings—from Talen, Odette, King Vern, and a server at my coronation ball. But I’d ignored them all for the thrill that came with being at his side.

I supposed it was true what they said—mortals weren’t made for this realm. It was too intoxicating for us. I’d gotten my last taste. Going forward, I wouldn’t let anything captivate me again.

Without thinking, I approached the cloche.

My fingers hesitated over the silk. Just when I’d determined to open it and see for myself, dark laughter sliced the air.

It was Troi’s—Bash’s faithful sister. She was also his protector, which meant she’d devoted her life entirely to keeping him safe, which did not bode well for me currently.

Troi wore a long ebony dress with a slit up the side, a sword on one hip, and a trailing-blade dagger on the other. Her smile was just as lethal as either of those. Here we were, wondering how we’d get into the palace to find you, and instead you waltzed into our own home—she glanced outside—alone.

I was highly aware of her hand on the hilt. You plan to kill me?

Out of everyone in the realm, she might actually do it. She raked her gaze over me like she debated it now. To get that bracelet back? She gestured to my wrist. Whatever it takes.

I think I’ll hold on to this, I said, wishing my earlier determination had come with an impulse to grab a weapon. If needed, I could grab the cloche and use that. I’d see if Bash’s heart would break if thrown. Leverage and all.

Leverage? The only thing that bracelet is to you is a pretty accessory. You clearly failed to take the ambassador’s power, and therefore have no further use of it. She stuck out her hand, stepping close enough for me to see the fine tips of her silver eyeliner. Give it to me, so my king can make things right.

No. My voice sounded surer than I thought it would.

Do you care at all for him? she pressed. His kingdom falls without that. Hand it to me now.

From her tone, she wouldn’t ask again.

Bash’s voice came next, accompanied by heavy footsteps. Leave us, Troi.

We looked at him in unison. He strode from a stairwell behind the throne, mostly coated in shadows. What I could see was the glint of his eyes and the steady way he walked, like he had nothing to be ashamed of. It made something twist inside me.

Had he no regret for what he’d done?

Troi hesitated before bowing. She gave me a final glare, then backed away.

As she left, Bash’s movements slowed. For a moment, only the