“Vindica was attacked the very same morning,” the prince narrated. “By none other than Felrothian soldiers.”
“That’s ridiculous,” King Rothian roared.
“You not knowing about the attack is worse, Rothian. I’d rather you confess to orchestrating it and get to pressing charges.” Prince Nefari’s face was set in hard lines. I almost forgot I’d seen any amusement at all, that’s how grim he looked now.
“You must be joking, Nefari, if you think I’ll give myself in.”
I had no voice in this. I was ordered to stand still and let the prince do his thing. I would not even move a muscle.
Biting my tongue was harder than I expected. When a small hand touched my back, it got a little bit easier. I took a deep breath and concentrated on Isay’s presence behind me. We were in this together.
The image in front of my eyes had me in the circle of emotion-feeders and then pulling out their life forces with no effort whatsoever. Nefari raised an eyebrow as the fight ended up with all of my opponents dead, but he didn’t comment on it. My frantic search for Isay came next, after which I ended up on the ground screaming in pain. Nefari cursed.
“The Felrothians did infact kidnap the princess and torture her.”
“How can you say that from reading the warrior?” King Ilario sounded doubtful. It easily sounded like Nefari was lying.
“He is mated to her, and their bond is very strong.”
“That just can’t be true,” a female from Elverstone scoffed. “It would be wise to switch the interpreter before we hear even more nonsense. No two fae of different courts can build a bond in mere weeks. How long has the princess even been in Vindica?”
“Almost three weeks now,” Grath responded from the throne.
The woman laughed. “You expect me to believe they mated in three weeks?”
“The warrior did confess to a distant Hessian bloodline,” Prince Nefari said. “There is proof in his ecos to believe it is true. Two Hessians will easily form a strong bond if their union is fated.”
I swallowed. I didn’t want my bond with Isay examined. It was personal. It was ours. The most amazing thing to ever happen to me. The fae courts’ denial of my luck to land a woman like Isay was burning acid in my stomach. I needed to stay still.
I was going through the whole pain routine down in the dungeon when a small gasp erupted behind me. Isay had somehow connected to the slideshow.
She hadn’t wanted to see Ferro’s execution, but it was getting imperiously closer. I urged her to let go, but if mindreading was a thing, it wasn’t working. The queen came and went. I was standing by Ferro’s cage, then before him, then slamming my fist into his face, then the gates opened and life flooded my veins.
“Impossible,” the prince gasped, releasing my life force to stare at me with a struck expression.
“What is?” King Ilario asked.
“The warrior carries Hessian essence. He has the access to life itself.”
Chapter 52
ISAY
THE THRONE ROOM ROARED INTO SHOUTS OF PROSECUTION AND disbelief. I pressed myself tighter against Karmuth for comfort, but even he couldn’t fight off this mob should they decide to execute us because of our bloodlines.
“No dark fae can access life, certainly not a death fae,” King Ilario called over the rest of the crowd. “Light blood is always overwritten. Distant Hessian bloodline wouldn’t even leave a mark behind, let alone accessible power. Besides, life and death do not mix.”
“I saw it,” Prince Nefari insisted. “It is within him.”
I looked to Karmuth for confirmation, but he still stood motionless despite Nefari letting go of his hand, done with the reading it seemed.
“Nothing you said is true,” a Felrothian croaked in the midst of their fog. “Listen to him. He’s clearly making this up to support his daughter. I thought relatives were not allowed to do the reading. If the man is mated to Nefari’s daughter, then what does it make him? I call it blasphemy.”
“My son is no liar!” King Neprion’s voice sounded angry and rough. His tall form glowed brighter as if to repel the emotion-feeder’s words.
My eyes hurt. I gripped at Karmuth’s shirt, and he finally moved, bringing one of his hands to my side. I rested my face on his shoulder. I was just tall enough to see over him with my nose pressed against his back.
My father was done assessing the room; now he admired the thrones behind us instead. My mother’s throne.
Shifting my head, I peeked at her sitting next to Grath. Her posture tense, she leaned forward on her throne as if to stand and charge the visitors at any given moment. Her knuckles were white from holding onto the armrests, likely the only thing stopping her from doing just that.
“Karmuth’s heritage is not the question here,” King Grath shouted above the cacophony of noise . “What we’re here to discuss is my stepdaughter’s kidnapping.”
“Everything is the question here,” the same Felrothian responded with a sneer. “If Nefari lies about one thing, he could just as well lie about the rest.”
Even though everyone was riled up, they somehow managed to remain in their own designated circles. Other than my father, nobody else had stepped away from their group. The three of us in the middle were singled out by the very definition of the word.
“For heaven’s sake, somebody do a reading on the girl, then.” Princess Lielle of Elverstone stood next to her father, my grandfather.
I’d never considered it before, although I’d seen her several times from afar when I’d lived in the court, but she looked so much like my mother. Same golden-brown hair, the very same raised cheek-bones, the curve of her lips. It was hard to imagine I’d not made the connection earlier. Like my grandfather, she obviously had no love for me. It made me wonder if my mother was the oldest of the sisters.
Besides Lielle, King Ilario had two other daughters with him. Out of all the other royals, he’d been blessed with children. No wonder he’d sent us out so easily. I was not bitter. No, not at all.
“I’ll do it,” a woman amongst thenHessians spoke up. I wasn’t polished in my royal courts’ studies and had no clue who she was.
Obviously not related to me, since that was the one rule we weren’t going to breach during this hearing. The only thing I did see was that she was stunning. Her long hair curled up at the ends.
“Out of the question,” King Rotten—sorry, King Rothian—denied.
