Page 41 of A Queen’s Betrayal (Legends of Worldbinders #1)

The Rot scorched through the lands of Varios, decimating mountains and devouring forests. It brutalized animals and humans alike, showing no mercy. It was a heartless evil, plaguing the core of the earth and draining its soul.

And yet, Vlazias remained untouched .

Mountains that kissed the sky wrapped around the continent like an unyielding wall—sharp and strong.

Thick, green trees stood tall in the distance, covering the ranges and all the earth she could see.

Arenna never thought she would see rolling green hills, crystal-clear lakes, or flowing waterfalls again in her lifetime.

Awe in beauty was quickly replaced with dread as she sensed Kayson’s presence before she saw him. “How is any of this possible?” she asked as he stepped beside her. “There’s no Rot. Your lands are green, plentiful, thriving. How ?”

“Magic,” Kayson answered.

She cut him a glare. “Really? I hadn’t thought of that,” Arenna responded in the most insincere tone she could manage.

“Then why did you ask?” Kayson, unbothered, shoved his hands into his pockets. She raised a brow. “The earth bends to my command. Although we don’t know where the Rot comes from or how it spreads, I can prevent it from touching the land I control.”

Interesting. “Could you keep it from Varios too?”

He was silent for many moments. “I’ll admit, I don’t know. I can’t imagine my power could extend all the way to Varios. But even if it could, I wouldn’t. Varios is not my responsibility.”

Red tinged the corners of Arenna’s vision. “I thought you wanted everyone to be free. Including humans.”

“I do,” Kayson said, turning toward her. He rested a hand on the dragon pommel of his sword. “Of course I want that, but I cannot protect both continents, Arenna. If I tried to relieve the Rot from your lands, I could very well lose my hold on my own.”

And if I had to choose, I would choose my own . He didn’t need to say it out loud; Arenna could see it on his face. Though she couldn’t necessarily blame him, imagining she would make the same decision being placed in his shoes.

“When my ancestor severed Pheanixios, he drained himself, using every drop of his magic. If I tried to fix both continents alone—”

“You could drain your power as well,” Arenna finished for him.

Kayson nodded. “There’s no certainty, but it’s a risk I’m not willing to take. Not yet at least.”

Arenna glanced over her shoulder toward the direction of Brookworth, imagining where the Rot slowly seeped into the ocean from sandy beaches. Black webbed lines spread across the water’s surface, descending deeper than any human could reach.

The plague didn’t stretch far into the ocean. Now, surrounded by nothing but clear blue water, she turned back to the king, her eyes lingering on his hands—and she wondered if he was the reason for that.

“Does it strain you?” she asked.

He took a long moment to respond; his gaze fixed on the clear water before them. She considered his silence, unsure if he was reluctant to admit it or if something else kept him quiet. Finally, Kayson turned to her and said, “Very much.”

Caught off guard by his honesty, Arenna looked away, suddenly uncomfortable. “So, you would fix Varios if you could? Save humans?” she asked, shifting the subject.

“By fulfilling the prophecy, we can save everyone at once,” Kayson stated.

“Think what you want of me, Serpent, but I will not let anyone suffer unjustly—human or Fae.” He leaned in, their faces uncomfortably close.

“We all bleed the same color. My doors and lands have always been open to anyone seeking sanctuary. Kleo not only smuggles Fae back home, but deserters as well. Humans who flee Varios. Your husband was not the man you thought, even to his own people.”

She knew that now, or at least, was starting to.

“I never once said he was a good man,” Arenna argued.

“No, but you were blind to what he truly was. To whom he hurt.” Kayson backed away, folding his hands in front of him.

“I don’t fault you for what you didn’t know.

You have much to learn from the actions of the Serpent King.

But erase whatever image you have of him, because I promise you, the truth is much worse. ”

She hated that Kayson was right. Jaksen was so good at putting on a show for the public, engaging with his people in a way that made you believe he was the just king he portrayed. Arenna hated that she had bought it too.

After everything she’d been through, Arenna should’ve seen it. Should’ve known he was pretending—not just with her, but with everyone.

Kayson left her to ponder that, disappearing into the crew. Their shouts and cheers became muffled as Arenna returned her gaze to the docks. From the half-timbered buildings to the water surrounding the land and the echoes of seagulls calling above, it was all familiar.

Something about Vlazias felt like home.

Or at least her idea of home. By just breathing in the salty, misty air of the port, and seeing the vibrant life around her, something in Arenna’s chest broke open. It felt like she had finally breathed after years of not. Her lungs felt full, her heart beating without fear.

Warmth spread beneath her skin, filling her veins. It was as if the magic in her very bones recognized these lands or the beings who inhabited them. Perhaps the flame inside her knew where she was, who she could become here, and what the prophecy had in store.

When the idea of traveling to Vlazias first sprouted in her mind, Koltin and Isabella hated it.

So had she. It seemed impossible to live within enemy territory, knowing her life was at stake if anyone realized who she was.

But here she was, eager to set foot on this soil, to let the strong rivers that webbed across the continent run through her fingers.

She dared a glance back at the king—his strong presence and commanding authority—and felt no fear for him. As long as the continents needed fixing, as long as the people needed saving, she and Kayson were partners.

Turning back toward the towering port, she smiled and chuckled to herself. What would Koltin and Isabella think of this? Her role in the prophecy and being with the Fae King. For the first time in a long while, a sense of hope bloomed in her chest.

Maybe things could turn out okay.

Maybe she could turn out okay.

But as quickly as hope bloomed, it withered.

Arenna instinctively wrapped her arms around herself, the weight of despair settling over her like a familiar cloak.

How could she feel hope— freedom —when her friends were still locked behind prison walls?

Isabella and Koltin were still in Brookworth. And she had left them behind.

Squeezing her eyes shut, Arenna swallowed hard. If she wanted to move forward—if she truly wanted to silence the voices Jaksen had planted in her—she had to fight thoughts like this. Fight them every time they rose.

Isabella and Koltin would be proud of her.

They’d want this for her.

And she would do everything in her power to bring them with her, so they could live in a world like this, too.

“Follow me,” Kayson demanded. Arenna stiffened, not realizing he was nearby again. He stormed past, moving down the rickety ramp, Bramnen and Marea in tow.

With a final deep breath, Arenna descended the stairs, bracing herself for whatever this new life would bring.

Alaraine was immaculate, vibrant, and alive . A massive, oval arch adorned with battlements and Worden banners served as the gateway to the port beyond. A tall stone wall encircled the port’s interior, protecting it from enemies by both sea and land.

Arenna watched intently as Fae moved in and out of the arch, dragging and pushing carts loaded with cargo.

Males and females clung to one another while children ran about the wide walkway.

Music drifted from an unseen source, sweet and joyous.

She only had a glimpse of the life beyond the walls; of the happiness it promised.

But nothing she saw matched what she had known, what she had been taught.

The Fae were happy. Well-fed, well-dressed.

They were taken care of. She glanced at the king standing at the bottom of the deck.

If he was so wicked, so cruel, why were his people the epitome of perfection?

If the rumors were true, wouldn’t they be in poverty? Struggling?

From what she saw, the lands were clean of Rot, with nature thriving and plentiful. This kingdom—this continent, this king —was nothing like what she had been told her whole life.

Lost in confusion, Arenna didn’t notice when the trio started moving again. They looked like three shadows, their dark clothing and fur cloaks stark against the pale stone buildings. She followed silently behind, uneasy at the eyes of the onlooking port-folk.

But she hadn’t made it halfway down the ramp before the trio stopped abruptly, Kayson whirling to face her. His eyes flared, his tanned skin drained of color.

Marea and Bramnen exchanged confused glances, their hands flying to the hilts of their swords.

The king took a step toward Arenna, his hand slightly outstretched—a movement so small she would have missed it if she blinked.

Instinctively, Arenna took a step back.

No one else moved. Silence hung heavy between them. His eyes went wide as he took her in, scanning her from head to toe.

Marea placed a gloved hand on his shoulder. “What is it?”

Heartbeats passed until Kayson snapped out of his trance. He coughed, running a hand through his hair before muttering an apology and turning his back to Arenna without another word.

No explanation.

Bramnen looked at her for answers, though she had none to offer. She couldn’t move right away, her mind not registering that it was time to walk as the trio again stalked into the port.

Shock rattled her very bones. It wasn’t his mannerisms or his tightening jaw that sent a shiver of unease down her spine—none of that would keep her up at night.

But the glint of silver lining his lower lash line before he turned away would.