Page 94 of A Queen’s Betrayal (Legends of Worldbinders #1)

Exhaustion was beginning to take hold, the drain on her powers finally settling in.

She remembered Itta teaching her about the consequences of burnout, how her body would slowly begin to eat away at itself until she either perished or was lucky enough to get a revival tonic in time.

It wouldn’t bring back her magic, but it would stop her from dying.

Arenna wanted to fight back, to stop Faylen and to make sense of it all, but her limbs were heavy, her chest bleeding inside. She could hardly catch her breath from the pain, exhaustion, and betrayal.

“ I will kill you ,” Kayson screamed, struggling against his captors. The rage in his eyes, the intensity of his stare, made Arenna’s chest constrict.

But his voice—it was like daggers to her heart.

He had known everything , and she couldn’t stomach it.

Faylen thrust her magic toward the king, sending red smoke down his throat. He thrashed and gagged.

“Leave him alone,” Arenna cried out. “ Please , stop this. I’ll do whatever you ask—just leave him alone.”

Faylen pulled back her magic, leaving Kayson sagging between the smoke soldiers. “Oh, you’re right, Arenna, you will do what I say. But not until he tells you the rest.” She forced her power at him again, and this time, the smoke compelled him to speak.

“You were given a place to stay in the Crystal Palace under Sayra’s care when you were eleven.

You stayed with us until you were twenty,” Kayson said.

“There you were to be kept safe inside the palace, so you could practice, train, and fulfill your role in the prophecy when your power revealed itself. It should have been revealed at age twenty-one, but you were gone before hitting that age of maturity.”

Information flooded through her skull, creating a pain so raw that her vision flickered. She remembered how the Crystal Palace was attacked, how Kayson and his council were betrayed, and how Jaksen had somehow gotten in and caused such destruction.

Was that person . . . her ? Arenna stared at Kayson, a single tear rolling down his bloodied and bruised cheek.

It took her a long while to ask, “Were you king?”

He choked out a sob. “Yes.”

Arenna clutched her chest, as if she could stop her racing heart. Her pulse quickened to the point of sickness, and she could not meet his gaze.

This whole time, Kayson believed I was the one who betrayed the Crystal Palace?

“You thought it was me,” she said to Kayson, her voice breaking. “You thought I betrayed your home and the reason your siblings were killed?”

Kayson’s lower lip wobbled as he shook his head, finally looking up to her. “I’m sorry,” he finally whispered, as if the words were too excruciating to utter.“I’m so sorry.”

“After all this time?”

Tears finally cascaded down his perfectly tanned cheeks. “Yes.”

Arenna’s breath caught, her chest tightening as if his apology had split something open inside her.

The weight of his confession crashed into her like a tide—grief, disbelief, anger.

And underneath it all, a pain that felt far too familiar reawakened.

To be misjudged, to be seen as the villain in someone else’s story, to be used.

She turned away, just slightly, as if shielding her heart from the sight of him. But it was too late, and the wound had already been made.

And it hurt more than she expected, because a part of her still wanted to find safety in his arms.

Faylen brought a hand to Arenna’s chin, digging her nails into the soft flesh.

“How do I know you did not force him to say those things?” Arenna sobbed, gripping the dagger hidden behind her back. “Your magic could have easily spun those lies on his tongue.”

Faylen smiled, then snapped her power at Arenna.

It swam down her throat, scorching her from the inside out. Heat bloomed in her chest, searing through muscle and bone until it felt like her very blood was boiling— bubbling, popping beneath her skin.

Agony twisted through her veins, making her knees buckle. Arenna screamed, or tried to, but no sound came—only the raw scrape of breath torn from burning lungs.

“Tell her the truth, Fae, or I will boil her from the inside out,” Faylen warned.

The earth rumbled, feeding off Kayson’s anger even though it was suppressed. “Release her, and I will,” he snarled.

Faylen laughed, and let go “Go on, then.”

The instant her crimson coil loosened, Arenna buckled and vomited, the taste of bile and ash scorching her throat. She stayed there, knuckles pressed into the soot, until the heaving eased.

After slow breaths, she raised trembling hand to wipe her mouth. Only when the world stopped spinning did she push herself upright.

Her eyes found Kayson. The hurt burning behind his gaze and tears in his eyes struck her harder than any blow, and fierce anger flared in her chest—anger at him, at herself, at everything Faylen had twisted.

Kayson’s voice was rough but steady. “Everything she said was true. Everything I said was true.”

Arenna trembled, the truth settled like a weight in her bones, and she could not hold back the sob that tore from her.

“My favorite part,” Faylen leaned in, the hint of jasmine coating Arenna’s skin, “is that Jaksen easily tricked your beloved Fae King, making it so easy for Kayson to believe that you had betrayed the Fae and himself, and that you orchestrated the attack on the Crystal Palace.”

Arenna watched as the blood drained from Kayson’s face, his eyes turning into a void of nothing. “What . . .” he began, but his words quickly died.

Faylen stalked toward him. “Jaksen located her, located the palace, found her asleep in her chambers, and brought her safely home.” She cackled, as if this were nothing but a humorous game.

“And then his men burned your palace, killed your people, your littles, and made sure enough evidence was left behind for you to believe Arenna was the mastermind behind it all. And you fell for it exactly as planned, like the good dog you are.”

Kayson blinked, tears blurring his golden irises. He did not look at Faylen or Arenna; his gaze remained locked on the ground beneath his feet. His chest rose and fell as if his breaths were short, pained.

But Arenna did not care that he was aching, that he was deceived.

According to Faylen, Arenna was Draka . She had lived in the Crystal Palace, trained and studied alongside Fae, and lived under his reign. All this time, he had known that.

Arenna stood, straightening as she fully faced the king. “You knew I was Drakaian . You knew who my real parents were, and where I was born.” Her voice shook, caught somewhere between disbelief and the heaviness of betrayal. “All those times I mentioned Craydon, my family, and my sister—you knew?”

Kayson nodded, his movements barely controlled, as if each word she spoke chipped something deeper inside him.

“What about everyone else? Marea? Bramnen? They knew?”

“Yes.” Kayson’s voice cracked.

Disbelief flickered across Arenna’s face, her chest tightening.

“And up until this moment,” she continued, the weight of it all crashing down on her, “you believed I was the reason behind the destruction of the Crystal Palace? That because of me, everyone, including your siblings, died?”

Kayson didn’t speak. His lips parted, but no sound came. He only stared at her—eyes heavy with helplessness, hollowed by guilt.

More tears slipped down his cheeks, quiet and unrelenting.

Finally, he gave the smallest of nods.

Arenna laughed in shock, disbelief coursing through her.

Her heart thundered as her gaze darted around, searching for something— anything —that could ground her in reality.

It explained why they hated her, why they were so unkind upon meeting.

Not because she was human, not because she was Jaksen’s wife, but because they believed she betrayed them all those years ago.

“I don’t remember any of this. I remember our mother, our home.” She wiped her eyes with her fingers, looking at Faylen. “I remember our childhood. I remember the destruction of our port, being taken to the castle, meeting Jaksen.”

Faylen giggled.

Giggled .

“You remember what Jaksen wanted you to.” Faylen pulled something from the pocket of her cloak.

The tonic Arenna had taken since she was a child for her hallucinations glimmered in Faylen’s hand.

“This was made to alter your mind, making you believe you were ordinary, that you were born to our mother, and had me as your sister.”

Arenna both laughed and sobbed. She ran her hands through her hair, squeezing hard enough it ached, needing the reminder that she was alive—that this was not a dream.

“ What was real? ” she screamed. “What was real?” She repeated the question, quieter this time, her voice breaking.

Faylen cleared her throat. “From your marriage to Jaksen at the age of twenty and on, your memories are yours. Everything before that point was fabricated. Craydon did not exist, our mother did not exist, our relationship as children—did not exist.”

Arenna couldn’t hold back her sobs, no matter how badly she wanted to. She ached, tears blurring her vision. She slammed her fist into the ground, roaring with a rage that felt like it might burn her insides.

She dared a glance at Kayson, who sagged against his captors. His face was pale, pained.He had lied to her. About everything .

After all this time. After everything.

Kayson lied to her.

Bramnen, Marea, Wylder, Selphia, Itta .

Everything made sense now.The hallucinations Jaksen made her believe she had, the Rot he claimed was overtaking her, which the tonic would prevent.

All those dreams she woke up from, the feelings she experienced when visiting certain places in Emerlon or seeing Castle Worden for the first time. They weren’t hallucinations.

They were memories.

Memories .

Arenna took a breath. She knew pain and torture, yet nothing had ever felt like this. When Jaksen revealed his betrayal, the truth behind their relationship, it still didn’t hurt as badly as this.

But Arenna did not let her tears fall, and instead, stood. Sorrow pumped through her veins, making her hands shake, yet she felt nothing but the soothing, calmness of anger.

Arenna looked at Faylen, at the smirk on her lips, and smiled back.