I really did stand too close to the throne, and while my mother’s presence beside me worked to ease some of my distress, hearing that her husband had not cared to come looking for me discouraged my faith in this all ending up all right for all of my saviours.

“I remember you being the only one refusing to guard her,” the king recounted. “You always fight against each and every one of my rulings. Not this one, Hiko. You shall remain silent. I grow weary of your obstinate ways.”

The prince gritted his teeth but did keep his mouth shut. Regar attempted to reach out to him, but his hand was swatted away before the king could catch sight of such a gesture. The rest of the warriors continued to stand like statues but by the looks of it Grath was done addressing them; he finally looked at me.

“Darling Isay, I’m so glad you’re back in one piece.”

“I’m sure you are,” I spat back. Despite my dishevelled looks and uncleanliness, my mother grabbed my arm. Her eyes told me to behave. She always told me to behave. I couldn’t. “No thanks to you, it seems. One of your assigned guards turned me in. From where I stand, all of the aforementioned trouble was caused by you.”

My mother’s grip on my arm tightened. “Isay,” she whispered quietly, her voice carrying more worry than a warning. I had several things to say to her too, of course. She’d have her turn.

King Grath seemed less fazed about me talking back at him than when Hiko had done the same thing. It couldn’t be only because of my insurrection being this close, because he was smiling at me. Actually smiling at me. No adolescent rebellion could be this amusing to follow, and mine wasn’t upon me just yet. I’d know it. Elia said it would bring upon a war of powers on top of any hormonal changes. That wouldn’t go unnoticed. My father was in for a surprise. I would never choose his court, even if that meant I’d be under the ruling of the Evil One for the rest of my life.

“You are right, of course,” King Grath admitted, and the whole throne room seemed to hold a collective breath. “There hasn’t been an occasion you weren’t right as of yet, Isay. Mistake me not, I am truly glad you are back. Your presence in my court is refreshing, and I admit my mistakes. All of them. I’ve never had a daughter, and it has taken me a while to realise my approach has been wrong. Will you forgive me?”

I stared at him in astonishment. I wanted to shout at him some more, even with my throat hoarse from all the screaming I’d done. He needed to know what I’d endured, what precisely he asked forgiveness for. But for once, I controlled my urges.

“I have a condition,” I said stiffly.

He nodded, gesturing for me to continue. “Let’s hear it, then.”

“All of my guards will go unpunished, except for Ferro. You may do with him as you please so long as you do not make me watch.”

“Not an unreasonable request.” The king tapped the arm rest of his seat, a glint in his eyes. “I’m afraid Ferro has already been dealt with, and I had no say in the matter. The rest of them are free to go.”

The tension the warriors had held onto left their muscles as they stared between their king and me.

“Anything else?” the king asked.

I bit my lip and shook my head. I held no long list of appeals I could pull out of my ass if the king appeared to be charitable. The only thing I wanted was everyone to live.

“If I may?” My mother spoke up from next to me. Grath’s amusement turned into a warm smile as he gave her a nod. “Should Isay wish to, her relationship with her assigned guard Karmuth will remain unthwarted.”

My mouth fell open in protest, but I could not do it faster than the king said, “Granted.”

I felt it then. Karmuth’s relief. The hollowness in his chest filling with heat. I wasn’t looking—I would not look at him. He did not know.

“No,” I gasped, a part of me breaking. “It can’t.”

“Why the hell not?” Karmuth asked, surprising everyone by speaking out of turn.

I still wouldn’t look at him. “Because we’re related.”

I wasn’t sure anyone heard me. It came out so quietly I was unable to hear it myself through the frantic thrum on my heart.

With my hands gripping the fabric of my pants and my eyes fixed on my shoes, I had no way of knowing how any of them reacted before the king shooed away my notion.

“Nonsense. Karmuth is no blood relation of yours. Any connection there is, is superficial and irrelevant.”

“You don’t know that!” I’d found my voice again. “She felt it in my ecos. She told me about Heriot.” I looked to my mother to see if that got a reaction out of her, but the name didn’t register on her face. Had he used a different name when he’d come to her?

“Who did, my darling girl?” the king inquired.

“Elia.” My voice was way too high. “Karmuth’s mother.”

That name got a reaction, but not from my mother. It got a reaction from the king. There was curiosity in his eyes, mixed with a distant memory I could not grasp. “You met her then? How is she?”

“Dead,” I blurted. “Everyone who was with Lord Terwyl is dead.”

I looked at Karmuth then. His face was a carefully controlled mask I could not penetrate, but he held no such rein on his emotions. They filtered through the bond between us, making tears flood my cheeks with renewed force. The stabbing in my chest was worse than anything Lord Terwyl could have done to me.

“I’m sorry,” I whispered. “I am so sorry.”

Chapter 42

KARMUTH

IT DIDN’T MATTER. ISAY’S DECLARATION DID NOT CHANGE A THING. She could’ve been my sister for all the difference it made in how I felt about her. I would have not looked at her differently the first day she walked into the court.

It wouldn’t have kept me from touching her. Hell, a fear of a death sentence hadn’t succeeded in that. She was my mate. She was mine. Nothing else mattered… to me.

It did matter to her, however. I saw the conflict on her face as she breathed the words, We’re related. This knowledge clearly shattered her. She believed it would keep us apart, and her reaction told me she didn’t willingly give up on us.

If she wanted me with the fervency I wanted her, there was nothing that could separate us. Certainly not this.

“Nonsense.” King Grath swiped at the air in front of him as if Isay’s statement was ludicrous. “Karmuth is no blood relation of yours. Any connection there is, is superficial and irrelevant.”

The king had no idea about the force that awakened within me, however. He did not know of my extended access to ecos. The way I used it was so similar to Isay’s abilities. Her words did not sound preposterous to me. She had a life fae in her bloodline, so did I. Mine was not a close relative; it couldn’t be. My parents were a death fae and an emotion-feeder. The connection, as King Grath put it, had to be superficial. But how could the king know? He couldn’t. And Isay pointed that out in a fierce shout.

“You don’t know that! She felt it in my ecos. She told me about Heriot.”

I wish she’d look at me. I wanted her to see that none of it mattered to me. We could make our own rules. We could get past this. She did not look at me, however. Her gaze flipped between her mother next to her and the king on the throne. The name Heriot said nothing to me, but Grath seemed to know the man. Or know of him.

“Who did, my darling girl?” the king asked.

“Elia.” Isay’s voice hitched. “Karmuth’s mother.”

My heart stopped. The whole world stopped. I really needed Isay to look at me, but she stared at the throne, her throat bobbing and her lips quivering. My mother had been at the warehouse, and she’d talked to Isay. My mother was an emotion-feeder, then. My father would be a death fae.

Was she a bad person? Had she played a part in Isay’s torture? Is this why Isay looked this horrified? She couldn’t be… I wouldn’t accept it. My mother had not harmed Isay.

“You met her then? How is she?”

“Dead. Everyone who was with Lord Terwyl is dead.”

No.

The ray of hope that had ignited in my heart snuffed out. I would never know who my mother had been. Everyone who was with Lord Terwyl was dead. Everyone in the warehouse…