Page 69 of A Queen’s Betrayal (Legends of Worldbinders #1)

It took nearly six years for Ruven to fully occupy the entire lower half of Pheanixios, and for humans to lay claim to those lands. He did not stop there and worked his way up toward the northeastern portion of the continent, destroying the western side of the Draka Kingdom and creating Brookworth.

From there, the conquering did not stop.

It seemed humans had somehow been given the magic of Ruven, and they continued taking, killing, and enslaving.

The battles lasted nearly twenty-five years until the fateful day of the First War , when the Draka, Medryd, and Fae came together as one to defeat Ruven and reclaim their lands and their peace.

Neither of those things happened though.

Even today, according to The Fall of Dragons , it remains a mystery how exactly humans wiped out two of the three great species and how they won the war.

The only explanation was that Ruven was born of some magical ability.

Throughout her reading, Arenna wondered if he had somehow discovered blood magic too. Maybe even created it.

The history book does not describe what happened to Ruven during the final events of the war. One night he lived; the next morning, he was dead. On his deathbed, he named his commander his successor, later known as King Mander, the First King of Brookworth.

Something stirred within her as she read through the history, and eventually, a conclusion settled in her mind. The Fae may have had a better record than Brookworth—less riddled with lies or exaggerated tales—but the full truth was still missing.

Back in the heart of the tavern, the pit in her stomach calmed.

She’d left Kayson in the basement, while she went in search of a cool drink.

The weight of the information she carried seemed to lift, as though the thumping music vibrating through the room could work out her unease.

She moved through the crowd of Fae toward the bartop on the far side, doing her best not to breathe in the thick air of ale, sweat, and smoke.

As she approached the oak bartop, which stretched the length of the room, she recognized the long, silver hair of Rodsan before he even turned around.

He wore his signature blue attire, deadly swords strapped across his back.

“Wasn’t expecting to see you here,” she said softly, leaning her elbows on the polished wood.

Rodsan turned almost immediately, tearing his attention from the beautiful Fae beside him. “Aaaaaarenna,” he drawled. His violet eyes roamed her face and hair. She held his gaze this time, forcing herself to appear confident, unaffected by him in any way.

“I don’t come here often, but there was business to attend to,” he said in a low voice.

She followed the subtle tilt of his head toward the female sitting behind him, her radiant dark skin glowing against the vibrant red of her gown. Arenna smiled and shook her head. “Business? Is that what you call it these days?” she teased as the female turned to wave down Naxei.

Rodsan laughed. “Not that kind of business. Council business,” he clarified.

Not entirely convinced but unwilling to pry, Arenna smiled and nodded.

Naxei arrived at just the right moment, cutting off the exchange. “Rodsan, good to see you. Usual?” He gave a subtle nod, accompanied by a wink. Arenna could have sworn she saw a faint blush rise on the barkeep’s cheeks. “And for you?” Naxei asked Arenna.

“Just a glass of water,” Arenna replied. After everything she had learned—page after page of violent acts against anyone who wasn’t human—water was all she could think of to clear the clog in her throat. But she doubted anything could make the truth easier to swallow.

Naxei set down a pair of ale-filled tankards.

“My apologies; I should’ve checked on you both hours ago.

” She hurried to a nearby shelf, reached to the top, and pulled down two tall glasses.

Returning to the bar, she grabbed a bottle of amber liquid and placed it in front of Rodsan.

“This way,” she said, motioning for Arenna to follow.

Arenna glanced back at Rodsan, who gave her a mocking bow. She smiled faintly and trailed after Naxei, weaving through the sea of circular tables, drunken Fae, laughter, and spilled ale.

When they reached the small kitchens in the back, Arenna’s nose filled with the savory smell of stew. “There is something about a roaring pot of stew that brings back good memories,” she said, leaning into the steam.

Naxei laughed as she ladled fresh water into the glasses. “A soup made for the soul, my mother used to tell me. She always said there was nothing better than a warm broth to help a weary traveler or a broken soldier.”

“I suppose you’ve seen many of those in your lifetime,” Arenna added, nodding her head toward the packed tavern.

“Many is putting it lightly.” Naxei handed a full glass to Arenna, who gulped half her drink in seconds. “Was your mother a good cook?”

Arenna tapped a finger on the side of her glass, smiling at the rickety floorboards. “The best,” she croaked, then cleared her throat. “There was nothing better than a homemade meal. I haven’t had one of hers since I was a girl.” Her smile fell.

Naxei placed a hand on Arenna’s arm. “I’m sorry. I know that pain all too well,” she said solemnly, grabbing a wooden spoon to stir the simmering pot. “I would think most Fae—or humans —these days share our pain. War is a nasty thing.”

“Indeed.” She didn’t know if the barmaid knew where she came from or who she had married, but she thought it best to keep it to herself.

Naxei seemed nice enough, though Arenna was ashamed of her past and did not need another set of kind eyes swelling with hate.

“You knew I was a human? Even without seeing my ears?”

Naxei raised a brow, a bright smile tugging at the corners of her lips. “Ears are not the only quality that makes you stick out like a sore thumb, Firewielder.” Arenna’s stomach clenched. “Aside from everyone around these parts knowing who you are, humans have a particular smell.”

“A smell ? Do we stink?”

Naxei barked a laugh, wiping a rag across her smooth, rich brown skin. “To some, definitely,” she said, enunciating. “Most— like me —don’t mind the scent. Fae senses are more sensitive though. We can smell your blood and easily identify what you are. Here, watch.”

Naxei leaned into Arenna’s neck, inhaling deeply. Silence fell upon the room, adding to the awkwardness she already felt. When the barmaid pulled back, the blood had drained from her face. Naxei’s brows were pinched, her eyes wide.

“That bad?” Arenna asked, chuckling nervously.

Seconds ticked by before Naxei blinked, seeming to return to the chipper self she had been only moments ago. “Just very . . . potent.”

Arenna fully knew there was something the barmaid was keeping from her, but she did not push it.

“Glad to know my blood gives off a certain stench other than copper.” The two smiled.

Arenna said, “Can I help you with that? It was getting pretty stuffy in the basement, and I could use a change of scenery.”

Naxei hesitated, then smiled and handed over the wooden spoon. “Absolutely.”

When silence fell, a gnawing sensation took root in Arenna’s mind. “Do you know Rodsan well?” she asked, slightly embarrassed she was still thinking about him. She found it hard to feel entirely comfortable around him, though he had never really given her a reason to feel uneasy.

Arenna usually trusted her instincts and wasn’t one to be fooled by a pretty face or sparkling eyes.

“Well enough to know his drink of choice. Every now and then, the council filters through here, but only when necessary. I imagine they have more important things to do than hang around in a place like this.”

“I see.”

Naxei opened her mouth to say more but stopped abruptly.

Arenna followed her gaze to a powerful figure leaning against the doorframe. His thick arms were folded, and his legs crossed. “And here I was, thinking you’d be back any minute with a drink,” Kayson said.

“My king,” Naxei said, bowing. “It was my fault; I kept her too long.”

Kayson placed a hand on her shoulder, urging her to rise. “I told you not to do that anymore,” he said calmly.

She shrugged. “Bad habit to break.”

Kayson turned his attention to Arenna, who was stirring the bubbling stew. “Feeling better?”

Arenna nodded.

“I’d better check on the bar,” Naxei mumbled. “Tend to that for me, would you?” she added, motioning to the stew. “And don’t forget to add the rest of the fixings on the table.”

The Fae King chuckled softly as the barkeep hustled out of the room. “What’s your curiosity with Rodsan?” he asked, stepping into the spot Naxei had vacated. His arm brushed against hers, and Arenna felt like she couldn’t breathe.

Heat crept into her cheeks. “Not so much curiosity as concern.”

Kayson snapped his head toward her. “Did something happen?”

“No,” Arenna said quickly, waving a hand. “Nothing at all. I just have this . . . feeling .” She tapped her fingers against the counter, wishing she hadn’t said anything. Fool.

The king nodded, exhaling a hearty sigh. “He’s a good male. Strange, I suppose you might say. He’s the son of Lady Tearven, of House Greystone.”

“He’s a lord?” she asked. Kayson nodded. “Then why is he here and not running his House?”

“The Zorathys lineage goes through the females,” he explained. “That position belongs to his eldest sister. By Vlazias law, a member from each House must sit on the king’s council, and Rodsan was chosen from Greystone.”

Arenna smiled faintly, her gaze dropping. “Jaksen would probably burn the entire territory down if a woman was in power in Varios,” she said sadly, then cursed herself for comparing the two kingdoms again . “It’s nice to hear it works differently here.”

“I don’t care who leads, as long as it’s done properly.”

“Can you remove Rodsan?”