Page 11

TAELYN

Balthorne chases after me with my cloak.

In my haste, I’ve left my chambers in only my nightgown. I’d completely forgotten what I was wearing.

“Thank you,” I tell him, my hand touching his as he places it around my shoulders. “That wouldn’t have been the best way to make my first entry into the Great Hall as?—”

I cut myself off. I can’t quite bring myself to say it. As what? As the new queen? As the new ruler of Highdrift and the lands of Askos? It feels wrong to even think it, as though I’m betraying my mother’s and the king’s memories.

A number of footsteps come running toward us, echoing down the long hallway.

It’s Cirrus Planetree, the head of the King’s Guard, and several of his men.

“Princess,” he gasps, “thank the gods you’re safe.”

“What news of my mother,” I say, “and the king?”

I find myself grasping at the final strands of hope that perhaps they weren’t in bed at the time of the collapse, that perhaps they’d gone for a walk in the middle of the night, or maybe they’d had a fight and my mother had gone to sleep elsewhere.

He shakes his head. “I’m sorry, Princess.”

I close my eyes briefly and nod, doing my best to hold myself together. Tears burn my eyes, and my throat feels like I’ve swallowed a sliver of glass, but I don’t lose it again. I need these people to respect me, and that won’t happen if they see me as an emotional mess.

“I want to see,” I tell him.

He frowns. “Are you sure?”

“Yes, I need to.”

Maybe I’m torturing myself by wanting a close-up view of the place that has become their burial site, but I feel the need to confirm their deaths for myself.

“Very well.”

Cirrus leads me there, though I know my way. Balthorne brings up the rear. Cirrus is the head of the King’s Guard, but does that mean he’ll become the head of my guard now? I’m unsure of where that would leave Balthorne. I’ve never been a huge fan of Cirrus, but I trust Balthorne with my life.

The cold air touches my cheeks and nose long before I come face to face with the hole in the side of the castle.

My heart crawls up my throat and lodges there, making it hard for me to breathe.

Instead of the skybridge, which once crossed to the king’s quarters, there is now only the night sky.

Wind howls around the part of the castle that remains.

It catches my long, white hair, whipping it around my face.

Mortar crumbles from the fractured stone, reminding me how fragile this part of the castle has become.

It’s stood for a thousand years, but in the space of one night, a vital part has been destroyed.

The atmosphere of shock and grief that surrounds us also unites us. It’s a deep sense of mourning, not only for the loss of our king and queen, but also for who we were as people. The relative comfort and security of our lives is no more. It can all be ripped away from us at any moment.

The future is also uncertain. I can’t even think too far ahead right now.

I turn to Cirrus.

“We must make an official announcement from the castle that the king and queen are dead, and the kingdom will enter an official seven days of mourning. I need the word spread that the kingdom has a new ruler in the form of Princess Taelyn Loftborn. The people need to know they have someone at the helm. Someone guiding them.”

Cirrus ducks his head. “Yes, Princess.”

“I will go to the king’s offices now and work from there. Please instruct the head of the treasury to inform me as to the state of the castle’s coffers. The city is going to need money if it’s going to rebuild.”

“Of course, Princess.”

I look to my lady’s maid. “Skylar, could you return to my chambers and bring me something more fitting to wear?”

She gives me a brief smile, turns, and hurries away.

“Balthorne,” I say to the head of my guard, “you may escort me.”

We walk in solemn silence through the castle, down to my late-stepfather’s private offices. The heavy wooden door is shut, and, with a shaking hand, I reach out to open it .

It’s strange stepping into this room. I can count on one hand how many times I’ve been here in the ten years I’ve been living in the castle.

It was the king’s private offices, but the king is no longer with us.

I am the only remaining member of royalty now, and therefore, this is now my private office.

I’m the Queen of Askos now, though it’s unofficial. We have far more important things to worry about than a coronation. Besides, it’s only right that the kingdom observes the seven days of mourning before crowning a new monarch.

Will ruling as a woman make Askos more vulnerable than it already is? If I had a husband by my side, my ability would not be questioned, but alone? That’s a different matter.

We have been weakened by the king’s and my mother’s deaths, but also by the rot that’s now worked its way into the very ground we stand upon.

Why would any other kingdoms want to conquer us now?

What would they want with lands that are ready to fall away beneath our feet at any moment?

If we can’t trust the very ground we stand upon, what can we trust?

I’ve been here before.

I lost my homeland, Torremora, to the rot. I grew up while watching pieces of the city fall into the nothingness. It hadn’t happened all at once, but slowly, bit by bit, over years and then decades.

It hurts my heart that these people are going to have to go through what my homeland suffered.

Where will we all go? How many places will be left?

Before long, resources will become slim, and then the fighting will start.

I know how it goes. We’re still at the beginning here, and people will feel terrible for their neighbors who’ve lost everything, but in the years to come, those same neighbors will become enemies.

Anyone who has something will see those with nothing as their enemies.

They’ll guard what they have and kill anyone who tries to take it, no matter how desperate they are.

I’ve seen it with my own eyes. Normally good people forced to kill families with babies because they’re trying to protect what is theirs.

Soon there will be nowhere left to run.

The walls of the office are lined with floor-to-ceiling bookcases. A ladder on a runner is available to reach those shelves near the top. At the far end of the room, an open fire still smolders in the grate. In the middle, positioned on an expensive rug, sits the king’s heavy wooden desk.

Balthorne is waiting for me outside, preventing anyone else from entering. This space is mine now.

I go to the bookshelves and run my fingers across the spines of the books. So many books on every subject possible—on magic, and history, and arts. As I take slow, deliberate steps, I touch the leather bindings and inhale their scent.

One book in particular draws my attention. Its spine is as thick as my forearm, and it appears to have real gold embossed into the leather.

I experience a strange pull. It causes my heart to skip, and my breath to tighten in my chest. It’s almost as though my fingers have been magnetized and something is drawing me toward it.

I select the book from the shelf. The cover opens, and the pages flip as though on their own. What is this? Magic?

Being a full-blooded Fae, magic is something that should come naturally to me, but I’ve always had a difficult relationship with it.

While other pure Fae might have powerful magic, mine has always been somewhat lacking.

I’ve told myself that my magic is simply dormant, and will come to me when I am older, but currently, it is weak.

The pages finally come to rest, open at the precise page where a gap has been cut into the pages beneath. Nestled in the hole is a large iron key.

With a frown, I reach in and lift the key. Pinching it between my thumb and forefinger, I hold it in the air and turn it one way and then the other. What is it for? Why has the king gone to such trouble to hide it here?

I swear it vibrates in my grip. The iron isn’t cold, as I’d expected, but is warm, as though heated from within.

Come…

A whisper, but I don’t hear it via my ears. It’s coming from all around me. Or even inside me.

This way…

I find myself powerless to resist.