Page 11 of A Queen’s Betrayal (Legends of Worldbinders #1)
The following night blurred into a whirlwind of glittering ballgowns and elegant suits, bodies swirling in sync across the grand ballroom. Arenna gripped her glass of water, longing to be numb to it all, but she kept her mind sharp, focused on the escape she had planned for tomorrow.
Tonight marked the final celebration before the main event.
Ascendance was a remembrance ball honoring the human rebellion, the fall of the Fae oppressors and their Draka and Medryd allies, and the separation of Pheanixios.
Jaksen sat in the center of the ballroom on a high throne, hoisted by the noblemen of the Houses, paraded around the room like the damned fool he was.
It was customary for the king to be lifted in honor of the first human king, a symbol of the power and legacy he left behind. The irony of freeing people from enslavement only to reign over them made Arenna scoff.
Anger simmered the longer she watched him, for it was the first time she had seen him since he had murdered the lord and locked her away.
Jaksen hadn’t come near her since, nor had he shown any sign of regret.
Arenna told herself she preferred it that way, yet something inside her twisted at the realization that he felt no remorse for what he’d done.
Her eyes swept over the noblemen surrounding their king, her pulse quickening when she didn’t spot Lord Bishop among them. She hadn’t expected to, but the wave of guilt that followed still caught her off guard.
The thought triggered another, and Arenna found herself scanning the rest of the prominent tables, searching for Serena, Lord Bishop’s wife. When she couldn’t find her in the sea of guests, gooseflesh crept along her exposed skin.
Arenna drew a deep breath, pushing aside the nagging curiosity about Lady Bishop’s whereabouts or well-being. It was better not to know this time, and instead focused on the room around her, soaking it all in.
The ballroom was adorned in red and gold, the chandeliers glittering with hundreds of candles, the only source of light. In the corner, a musical group played the Brookworth battle song, a melancholy tune of enslavement, heartache, and oppression.
Arenna rolled her shoulders, the weight of her armored corset taking its toll on her back.
Normally, she enjoyed herself at Ascendance .
It was the one event Jaksen allowed her to celebrate.
She was free to converse and dance—all part of the ploy.
Even the sheltered queen was expected to honor Brookworth’s ancestors and worship at their feet.
But tonight was different, because this time, it would be her last.
Tomorrow, she, Faylen, Koltin, and Isabella would blend into the carnival as they left the castle city of Tolgan.
Isabella had already secured a trunk full of costumes from one of the fire acts, making it easy for them to slip into the crowd.
Arenna didn’t ask how or where she had gotten them but was grateful for her loyal friend’s help.
The scent of jasmine wafted through the air. “Hey,” Faylen whispered.
“Hello,” Arenna replied, not bothering to turn around. She hadn’t had a chance to tell her sister the plan, and guilt crept in at how suddenly things were moving. But she hoped Faylen would understand—and wouldn’t hesitate.
“I’m sorry, Ren. I really am.” Faylen stepped into view, clutching two glasses of sparkling red wine. Her silver gown was low-cut, tight, and beautiful. “Olive branch?” She held up one of the glasses, swirling the contents.
Arenna couldn’t help but smile. She had stopped being angry with Faylen long after their last conversation. It was silly to be mad at the truth. “Olive branch,” she echoed, taking the glass. “I’m glad you’re here, actually. There’s something I need to talk to you about.”
“Okay,” Faylen drawled, eyeing Arenna suspiciously. “Tell me.”
She swallowed twice, her throat suddenly dry despite the water. “Not here. We need to find somewhere more private.”
With her stomach in her throat, Arenna scanned the ballroom. Sneaking away with Faylen was risky—she was usually forbidden from leaving events like this—but Jaksen tended to be more lenient when her sister was involved.
“This way.” Faylen wrapped her hand around Arenna’s, pulling her toward the nearest alcove on the ballroom’s terrace.
Arenna shut the door behind her, signaling Malsen to stay. He hesitated but nodded, remaining in the ballroom. Loyal to the kingdom—and to Jaksen—he was kind enough, and over the years, she had influenced him just enough to grant her small moments of privacy or slight bends in the king’s rules.
After making sure no one could see or hear or see them, Arenna exhaled and clasped her sister’s hands. “I’m leaving tomorrow evening.”
Faylen paled. “What? You’re leaving ?”
“ We’re leaving. I want you to come with me. There’s nothing left for either of us here. We can go and never look back, start a life somewhere else.”
Faylen pressed her fingers to her temples with a sigh. “What are you talking about? Where is this coming from?”
“I’ll explain everything after we get out of here.” Arenna reached for her sister again. “But for now, I need you to trust me.”
“I don’t understand.”
“Please, trust me.” Arenna squeezed Faylen’s hand tighter.
She yanked her hand away. “Have you even considered what I want?” She sneered. “I don’t remember much about our home by the port, but I do remember I didn’t have my own bed, beautiful clothes, and jewelry like I do now.”
“What are you saying?”
“ I’m saying ,” Faylen groaned, running her hands through her thick hair, “that I don’t know if I want to go with you. You haven’t given me time to think. A day, that’s what I have. Less than that.”
“You cannot possibly want to stay because of clothes and jewels . This place is a prison, and you’re just as much a prisoner as me.” She stumbled over her words, confused by her sister’s reaction.
“Am I?” Faylen’s voice trembled. “I have everything I want, everything I need, and I don’t have to lift a finger for it.
I’m the queen’s sister, and I get whatever I desire.
” Arenna couldn’t believe what she was hearing.
“If I go with you, I’ll be doomed to a life in another port with ragged clothes and hardly any food, where I’ll have to work just to survive.
And sometimes, it still won’t be enough.
Do you not remember the nights we ate moldy bread because it was all Mother could afford? ”
The memory stung. Arenna would never forget that night—or the many nights that followed—where she ate the blue and black bits herself so Faylen could have the clean ones. Her stomach had punished her for days afterward, but it had been worth it. Faylen was worth it. “Of course I remember.”
“Then how can you ask me to go back to that?” Faylen snapped.
Arenna nearly flinched at her sister’s elevated tone, her gaze flicking to the closed balcony door.
Her heart pounded so hard it made her nauseous.
If those doors swung open, it would buy her time to end the conversation.
She was only with Faylen, which wouldn’t raise suspicion—but still, the fear of being caught made her palms sweat.
“How could I not ?” Arenna countered. “This place,” she gestured around them, “isn’t safe. No matter how beautiful the things you have, no matter how fine the meals are. If I’m gone, who will protect you?”
“Protect me from what ?” Faylen scoffed.
“Don’t make me say it,” Arenna whispered.
“Say it,” Faylen pressed, her voice soft but insistent. “Tell me what you’re so afraid of.” Admitting everything to her sister felt like a dagger in Arenna’s heart, but it was a truth she couldn’t avoid any longer. “Tell me,” Faylen urged, tears welling in her sapphire eyes.
Allowing herself to finally let Faylen in, Arenna unloaded everything, realizing she needed to rely on her sister instead of just shielding her from the truth. She told her everything—from the first time Jaksen hit her to the nights in the dungeon, how she got her scar, and every attack since.
Faylen’s tears fell in perfect streaks down her pale cheeks. Her lower lip trembled, but Arenna didn’t stop. She spared no detail, desperate for her sister to understand what kind of man Jaksen really was. What she has endured.
“If I run, Jaksen will hurt you,” Arenna said, moving closer and cupping her sister’s face. “He’ll torture you for information. He might even kill you just because you’re my sister. When I’m gone, there won’t be any lavish lifestyle left. Only pain. You’re not safe here, not without me.”
“Then stay,” Faylen whispered.
“What?” Arenna stepped back, shocked. She had just bared everything to her sister, laid out her horror. And Faylen still wanted her to stay? “Did you hear a word I said?”
“Stay,” Faylen repeated. “We can fight him. We can kill him—”
Arenna slapped a hand over Faylen’s mouth, cutting off her words. “What you’re saying is treason,” she hissed in a low whisper. “If anyone else heard you, you’d be dead within the hour.” Faylen’s eyes widened. “The only option is leaving. You have to come with me.”
When Arenna finally removed her trembling hand, Faylen backed away slowly, stumbling toward the bustling crowd inside. Arenna wanted to go after her, to comfort her, but something kept her feet planted.
“Fine,” Faylen whispered, her face streaked with tears. “Next time you decide something for me, give me a few days at least,” she spat before storming back into the ballroom, leaving Arenna alone in the night air.
Arenna ran a hand along the terraces’ stone rail, trying to steady her breathing. Everything would work out. It had to.
In the dead of night, with winter’s chill still clinging to the gardens, her blood ran cold. Goosebumps peppered her skin, and she realized it wasn’t from the temperature. Arenna felt something. Or someone .