Page 151 of A Court of Wings and Shadows

I blinked.How old is the king now?

Seventy,she replied.He appears far younger, of course. Fae blood, and the bond, slow the decay of time.

The truth of that hit me. Fifty years of unity. Fifty years of shared strength, pain, power. And now… distance. Silence.Loss.

My thoughts spun, wondering what kind of magic could fracture a bond that old, when the king’s voice snapped me back.

He turned to Theron, the light in his eyes sharper than it had been all morning.

“I am still the king,” he said flatly, “and I trust a rider over any sophisticate.”

“Ouch,” I muttered under my breath before I could stop myself.

Kaelith chuckled.The king has always been entertaining.

Really?I asked.

You see him at his worst,she replied.Not the way Eldarn sees him. He has his… flaws, but his sacrifices have been many.

I blinked again, watching the tired monarch stand straighter, his voice now that of a man who’d once commanded armies. Who still could, if his mind were whole.

Theron bowed his head slightly. “I’m sorry, Father.”

But the apology was meek, his words soft and contrite, yet the fire in his eyes didn’t dim. If anything, it brightened.

The king’s gaze swept the room again, weariness returning to his face like a shadow.

“Did the patron escape the fire?” he asked, his tone directed at Theron.

And just like that, the room shifted again, who was the patron?

Chapter

Thirty-Five

Theron’s voice rang through the echoing silence of the court, as smooth as polished steel. “Ashlyn and her squad are to assist with the cleanup in the village. Tell Zander to lead them.”

He looked to Remy. “Escort her back to the Ascension Grounds. Collect the rest of Thrall Squad. And then…” his eyes flicked to the king, who had wandered toward a nearby window, mumbling softly to himself, “you’ll return here for a… meeting.”

The pause was brief but deliberate.

Remy gave a short nod to both the king and Theron before guiding me from the throne room, his pace steady, expression unreadable.

As we turned down a long corridor of stained-glass and flickering lanterns, I broke the silence. “Who was the patron?”

He didn’t answer at first.

“Probably one of Theron’s spies,” he finally said, tone low. “The court keeps eyes in the village. Just as the Order has them here.”

I bit my tongue on the retort sitting at the edge of my tongue—Like you.

Instead, I stayed quiet as we exited through one of the side arches, the rain now just a mist that clung to the air like memory.

Zander was waiting in the courtyard, standing beside Hein. His jaw set the moment he saw Remy walking beside me.

His voice was as sharp as ever. “Word of your antics has spread through the kingdom. So much for that low profile.”

Remy shrugged, ever casual. “That was Katama’s idea.”