Page 10 of A Queen’s Betrayal (Legends of Worldbinders #1)

A day later, Arenna’s nose was buried in the pages of an ancient Fae text, one dating back to the world’s beginning. If Vlazias was truly her destination, she needed a refresher on that distant land and how the Fae lived.

After training, she and Koltin had revealed her plan to Isabella.

Predictably, the attendant hated the idea.

But after nearly an hour of explaining, she had come to understand it was the only plan that made sense.

Arenna could vanish into the heart of their enemy’s continent, and Jaksen would never even consider searching for her there—never believe she was clever enough to dream it up.

That was what made it perfect.

Arenna smiled, her pale finger tracing the length of the page.

Study, learn, and run. That’s all she needed to focus on for now.

Being human already put her at a disadvantage when traveling to Vlazias.

The roundness of her ears would give her away instantly, as would her lack of the Fae’s vibrant features.

But, most damning of all, she would be the former Queen of Brookworth. The bounty on her head would be worth more gold than she could ever imagine.

Her finger tapped against a paragraph detailing life before the First War , when human Fae, Medryd, and Draka lived as one. She wondered what it might have been like to live in a time without war, where powers were celebrated rather than feared, and where Fae might have seen her as an equal.

“None of this is helpful,” Isabella muttered under her breath. “There’s nothing here to give you an advantage in Vlazias.”

“We’ll find something,” Arenna said, though dread coiled in her stomach.

Her gaze flicked to Malsen, who stood at a distance.

When their eyes met, he smiled. She forced herself to return the gesture, though her heart sank at his ever-watchful eyes, his listening ears.

At least he was far enough away that their conversation wouldn’t reach him.

Arenna took a breath as she grabbed another book from their small stack, this one detailing the events of the First War .

Flipping through its pages, her eyes caught on an illustration of the First King of Worden, his hand outstretched as power flowed from his palm into the earth.

Beside him stood Redriol, a brown dragon as tall as mountains and as fierce as they came.

Dragons had been extinct for thousands of years, wiped out shortly after the war.

In the end, the First Fae King had forced his earthbending magic into the ground, splitting the continent in two, creating sister continents, Varios and Vlazias, severed by hatred.

“Can you imagine living when they did?” Arenna asked, tapping the illustration of the dragon.

Though dragons had only ever bonded with the Drakians or—in rare cases—with Fae who possessed elemental magic, both long extinct and forgotten, she often dreamed of living in a time when such mighty creatures still roamed the skies.

“Honestly?” Isabella leaned over to peer at the page. “They’re a bit too terrifying for me. And ,” she added, waving a finger in the air, “some of them literally breathed fire.”

Arenna smiled, returning her attention to the dragon and the First Fae King.

His act of splitting the continent had bought humans time.

With the Fae across the ocean, humanity could rebuild.

Though it hadn’t stopped Worden from fighting for control of both continents, it had at least slowed the bloodshed.

Flipping through the last few pages of the text, she found nothing to help her on her journey.

“I’ll try another one,” Arenna mumbled, rising from her chair. Isabella didn’t stir as the queen made her way to the large glass case that housed the library’s oldest texts.

But Arenna stopped short.

The Forx Emissary stood before the case, pulling one of the leather-bound volumes from the shelf.

Clad entirely in black—from his boots to the half-cape draped over his left shoulder—he looked every bit as imposing as he had at the banquet hall.

Only now, standing closer, she realized just how massive he was.

Broad-shouldered, his corded muscles visible even beneath his clothing.

“Serpent Queen,” he greeted her, eyes narrowing.

Arenna’s heart pounded. “Emissary Kayson,” she acknowledged, stepping forward. “What are you doing here?”

Chestnut strands of hair slipped into his eyes, brushing against his lashes. His beard was neatly trimmed, and in another life, Arenna might have considered him handsome. But Jaksen had spent years carving that kind of thought from her mind, replacing it with fear instead.

Kayson glanced down at the book in his hand before turning his gaze back to her. “Reading,” he muttered, waving the book slightly. A muscle ticked in his jaw, and his eyes gleamed like daggers aimed at her.

“You didn’t join the hunt?” she asked, referring to the event Jaksen had led earlier that morning. He and his hand-picked men had set out to track the last known boars in the area, as part of Brookworth’s usual tournament festivities.

“I have no interest in hunting one measly animal with a pack of men,” Kayson replied.

Arenna swallowed her irritation. “Very well. I just need to put this back,” she said, gesturing to the glass case he blocked.

He shifted to the side, offering her barely enough room to squeeze past. Arenna bit the inside of her cheek to suppress a snide remark as she slid by. “History of the First War ,” Kayson noted, lifting a brow. “An interesting read for a human queen.”

“History is important. Learning about the enemy is important,” Arenna replied sharply. “Don’t you agree?”

He cocked his head. Now that they were so close, she saw the swirling shades of gold in his eyes—lighter and more beautiful than any she had ever seen before. They were a perfect contrast to his tanned skin. Feeling the heat rising in her cheeks, she quickly turned and set the book in its place.

“It is important,” Kayson agreed, his voice lowering. “When it’s truthful.” He picked up his own book, holding it out for her to see. Fae History . “What do you know of the First War ?”

“The basics, I suppose.” She grabbed the last text from the case and returned to her table. Isabella’s wide eyes darted between her and the emissary who followed her.

“And what are the basics?” he asked, his tone faintly mocking as he rested a hand on the back of the chair across from her.

Arenna eyed him cautiously as she sank into her chair. “Have you not heard of the war that split the continents?”

“Of course,” he said with a low, husky laugh. “But I’m curious to hear your version of ‘ the basics .’”

“The Fae craved power,” Arenna began, sitting up straighter.

“As if the magic that thrummed through their veins wasn’t enough.

They wanted humans to bend the knee, to recognize the Fae as rulers.

They wanted us to fear them, to submit.” She paused, her throat tightening.

“They enslaved humans for thousands of years. Used them however they saw fit.”

Kayson’s eyes darkened. “Curious, isn’t it? What power does to the mind.”

Something about the way he said it sent a chill down Arenna’s spine.

“What else?” he pressed.

“What game are you playing?” she demanded.

She’d long since learned that every conversation was a game of strategy.

There were always motives, always something to be learned—or taught.

As queen, she was supposed to guard her tongue.

Jaksen would not appreciate her speaking so boldly, and out of turn.

She needed to end this conversation before it spiraled out of control.

But Kayson’s eyes flickered with anger. “Humor me.”

“The humans rebelled,” Arenna continued, her voice steady despite her racing heart. “We brought the Fae to their knees and took back our land. And when the First Fae King saw the ruin of his kingdom and his wife, he severed the continents.”

“And you believe that story?” Kayson asked.

“I believe in history.”

He leaned in slightly, his eyes narrowing. “History can be fabricated. I suggest you keep reading. There are flaws in your basic information .” With that, he turned and walked away, disappearing through the library door.

Isabella sat frozen, her mouth agape. “What. Was. That ?”

Arenna ran a hand through her long hair, releasing a breath. “I was hoping you could tell me.”

“You better read it,” Isabella said, motioning to the text Kayson had left behind.

Arenna nodded and carefully opened the cover.

She scanned page after page, but found nothing to support Kayson’s insinuations.

It was full of things she already knew, past wars, details on their powers, how the Fae looked, dressed, and what they ate.

Their holidays, their lifestyle, genealogy reports.

Nothing new, and certainly nothing that would change her mind.

Suddenly, a pair of hands slammed down inches from Arenna’s face, sending a booming echo throughout the library. She looked up to meet her older sister’s gaze.

“What do you think you’re doing?” the queen hissed. Priestesses and scholars glanced in their direction.

“I wish you could’ve seen your face, little sister.” Faylen hopped onto the table, her back to Arenna, carelessly settling atop the fragile parchment. She glanced over her shoulder at Isabella. “Attendant, give us a moment, won’t you?”

Isabella fumed beside Arenna, looking to her for permission.

Arenna nodded, and Isabella reluctantly slunk away, fists clenched at her sides. “She’s a human being, Faylen. You need to treat her as such.”

“Of course.” Faylen smiled sweetly, but Arenna wasn’t fooled. “I’ve never understood your fascination with a place like this,” Faylen continued. “Do you truly have no interesting hobbies?”

“Fay,” Arenna hissed, carefully pulling the book from beneath her. “Don’t touch these if you won’t handle them with care. This text”—she waved the black leather-bound book through the air—“is as old as the world itself and extremely fragile. You can’t just sit on it.”

Faylen rolled her eyes. “Understood,” she said dismissively. “You really should spend more time with me. I could show you a kind of fun you can’t even dream of.” She fell back against the table, her golden curls spilling into Arenna’s lap. “I don’t remember you being so dull as a child.”

“I’m not dull .” Arenna snorted. “I have a job now. One I can’t afford to be distracted from.”

Faylen rolled onto her stomach, propping her chin in her hands. “And what job is that, other than being the king’s prized possession? You’re nothing but a pretty statue in a glass case to him.”

Arenna flinched, gathering the books scattered across the table as she gnawed on the inside of her cheek.

Faylen sat up, frowning. “I didn’t mean that, Ren.”

Ignoring her, Arenna stood quickly, clutching the books to her chest. Her chair scraped against the marble floor before it toppled over. Malsen was there in an instant, picking it up. “I’m sorry,” she mumbled to him.

“Nonsense, my queen.” Malsen offered his hand as Isabella stood behind him, her jaw clenched so tightly it looked painful.

Arenna placed the texts back in their protective glass cases and stalked out of the library with Malsen, Isabella, and Faylen trailing behind her.

“I’m sorry,” Faylen whispered. “I shouldn’t have said that.”

Arenna stopped abruptly. “I am the queen, Fay. I have a reputation to uphold. My husband—and your king’s —reputation, need I remind you? I don’t get to muck around the castle or enjoy village life. My place is here. With him. Being a good statue and staying out of the way.”

Faylen paled. “I know, and I’m sorry. I—” Her voice echoed down the hall as Arenna turned and walked away before she could finish. Her eyes burned. One more word, and she couldn’t hold back the tears.