“They’ve reached her by now. She’ll be home in no time.” I hoped. I needed to convince myself. It was the only truth I was willing to accept. “What changed your mind?”

Grath wrapped his arms around me, and my façade crumbled. I sank into him, allowing him to counterweight my weakness. His embrace worked to subdue my fears but couldn’t quite manage. Especially since he’d admitted defeat.

“King Rothian refuses to acknowledge any wrongdoing by his court. He does not accept the blame, nor will he adhere to the official summons.” Grath’s voice was rougher, angry. If he’d voiced his summons in the same tone, the Felrothian was wise to stay away. However, rejecting an official invitation was simply not done, no matter the occasion.

I swallowed over my tears. “Perhaps coming from Elverstone, or even Hessia, the request could no longer be avoided.”

Vindica did not ask for help. Ever since their reputation lay tainted, there was no help to be had. Isay’s kidnapping was going to change that. Elverstone could not look past such an act even after we’d left, after we would never be welcomed back again.

Hessia had no choice but to respond, either. It would all come out when he’d respond, but there was no other way. If Felroth kept up their attacks unrestricted, who knew what they’d plan next? Grath would deal with it. Isay would forgive me. The truth could no longer be silenced.

“Sweetness, you have no sway in Elverstone,” he said very gently so as not to upset me. He didn’t even mention Hessia, but he couldn’t know. Not many had any influence in Hessia.

“Let me send the request anyway,” I begged. “The council must assemble. Once they see Isay, Felroth can no longer deny their involvement.”

If Isay will be back. If she’ll be back. If…

A lump in my throat forced me to take my next breath more painfully. My eyes grew wet, despite me forcefully blinking away the tears.

“You’re free to use the fax, sweetness,” he said carefully. He wasn’t convinced I’d even receive a response; that much was clear in his voice. He was not going to prevent me from trying, however. After his mistake, he couldn’t.

There was nothing more modern than a fax machine in Belfean Realm. We’d used birds before the invention, but they were never as reliable. As with all technology, only high fae were able to afford any, and with faxing growing increasingly outdated on Earth, there wasn’t anything rarer.

Nefari would own one. So would my king. If Ilario remained nonchalant, Nefari would make him reconsider. In the end, the council would arbitrate.

And Isay will be back. She’ll be back. She’ll…

I tried to hold back a sob as I stepped away from Grath’s embrace but failed. Grath’s worried eyes got me to snap out of it. I had to be strong. We had no news, but it didn’t always denote bad news. I would not break before I knew for sure.

Know what exactly? She’d been tortured. Everyone in the court knew she’d been tortured. The way Karmuth screamed… My baby girl had gone through much worse. I knew that with certainty. How could anyone survive such pain?

She’ll be back.

“Siya?” Grath prompted, voice taut.

I shook my head to clear the mistiness that followed tears. There was nothing more I could do to get Isay back faster. I could, however, get justice for her. I could get revenge. That’s what I needed to focus on.

Turning my back on Grath, I stepped closer to the table and the stack of papers. From the very top King Rothian’s denial shone back at me, further fuelling my rage.

The king spoke behind me. “My sons will bring your daughter home safely, sweetness. I have no doubt about it.”

I turned my head to look back at Grath and caught him shutting his eyes and dropping his head back. I got a clear view of his Adam’s apple bobbing. He’d said ‘sons’, and he also realised he’d said ‘sons’.

When Grath looked back at me, he held an apology in his eyes.

“It’s the court’s best kept secret,” he sighed. “Not even Hiko knows. Certainly not Karmuth himself. I would’ve never given him a trial, Siya. He needed to be out of sight, and the dungeons were as safe as anywhere else to wait it out. I couldn’t have known he’d mate the girl. He showed as little interest in partnership as Hiko. I would’ve kept a better eye on him if I’d thought he’d blemish Isay.”

Stunned, I stared back at Grath. I hadn’t known, not even suspected. Everyone kept secrets, and while his was laid out in the open, there was no better time to reveal mine.

“Since we’re sharing,” I gulped, “Crown Prince Nefari of Hessia is Isay’s father.”

He nodded. I nodded, too. The air was thick around us, and there was no way of knowing whether he nodded in acknowledgment, affirmation or simply because he had no words to relay what he was truly feeling.

I nodded because no matter the reason behind his own gesture, I understood his silence. The courts would be in upheaval when it came out that Grath had two successors instead of one. He was likely protecting Karmuth’s mother, too. It was clearly an inter-courts intercourse, which was never looked kindly upon.

My own father had dismissed my title the first time and renounced me completely the second time. I would have left Elverstone to be with Grath either way.

King Ilario’s verdict was merciful; he couldn’t have done anything else without provoking a fight with Vindica. However, Ilario had refused to leave my relations unpunished. Whoever stood for Karmuth’s mother had all the reason to rebuke her, disclaim her, kill her—whichever reaction came first should the truth about it come out.

I wondered if he wasn’t with that woman for the same reasons my relationship with Nefari never worked out. When he kissed me gently on my forehead and then on my lips, I didn’t wonder any longer. None of it mattered. We were each other’s now.

Isay would be back.

My father would come. So would Nefari. And King Rothian would be punished for misconduct.

Chapter 39

ISAY

I FELT HIM BEFORE I SAW THE DESTRUCTION. TRIPPING BETWEEN awareness and comatose, I saw Karmuth’s warriors crush through fae like they were nothing but dust.

Sinister’s wild eyes flashed as he tore his victims apart, sliced them into pieces, and bathed in blood, a wicked grin never leaving his face. Regar had collected so much ecos he was glowing and resumed slicing with his sword, dodging bullets like they’d never be fast enough to hit him. Hiko preferred the gun. When he ran out of bullets, he dropped his weapon to pick up another, then he kept on shooting, hitting the mark each and every time. I did not see Karmuth, I saw through him.

Hands bloody, he’d discarded his sword for a knife. A hallway rushed past my eyes, my vision flickering between what he saw and what was right in front of me.

He chased a fae through the corridor. Their footsteps bounded in my head like the bass in a dance club.

The fae slipped on the slick concrete and fell into a pool of blood and ashes. He was not fast enough to get back up, for Karmuth stabbed his knife right through his skull.

I could feel it. The force in which the knife plunged into the flesh vibrated through my bound hands as if I were the one holding the weapon.

He didn’t stop after that first blow. Karmuth, he didn’t stop. The fae at our feet was dead already when he  grabbed the dead man’s collar with one hand and held him up against a wall as his knife kept plunging into flesh.

So much blood.

I was going to be sick. That meal Elia had fed me rushed back up as Karmuth went feral catching sight of another group of warriors.

I not only saw him sprinting through the bullet shower, not looking back as Hiko shouted profanities at him, but I also felt several bullets hit him. A flash of pain in my leg just above my knee left me panting, a ripping through my shoulder made me cry out. The foul taste in my mouth intensified, and I couldn’t swallow it back down as my dinner burned through my throat and spurted out across my stained shirt. The stench wasn’t any better than the taste had been, and while the pain ebbed I kept convulsing, certain that I’d vomit all of my insides out next.

A lock turning forced me to look away from the bloody scene taking place somewhere in this building, and I looked up at Elia’s frightened eyes when the door slid open. The key in her hands dropped with a cling to the ground as she rushed in to fumble with my restraints. The chains wouldn’t release.

“So much fear,” she mumbled all the while pulling at the chains holding me imprisoned. “So much hate. So much death.”

“Run!” I pleaded. “Go! He is angry. He is really angry.”

A forceful pull later, the chains hanging from the ceiling fell in a swish and a clatter, pulling me to the ground with the force and a weight my damaged ankle could not bear.

My vision shifted once more. Karmuth tore through a fae, his knife ripping through guts while his other hand pulled at ecos and another force I didn’t recognise. His wounds healed as the man died in his arms. Deep within him, despair and disrelish burned hot as coals. They also intermingled and filled his stomach with heaviness that pinned me to the ground harder.