Page 179 of As Above, So Below

Rowen purses his lips, lowering his stare as he nods.

Eloric clears his throat, pulling the table’s attention.

“Vestaris, if you would answer the question,” he says softly, his yellow eyes finding mine.

They want me to take the High Throne in exchange for assisting Ryc. It’s not enough to simplyknowI’m a winged fae, they want the guarantee.

Honestly, I can’t say I blame them.

I would be asking the same were I in their shoes.

Laughing to myself, I shake my head, lowering myself into my seat.

But if telling them I’ll take the throne means they’ll fight, I’ll tell them exactly what they want to hear.

Because if I don’t, they’re all damned anyway.

“If you fight alongside Ryc, I will ascend your throne.”

“Ves.” Ryc turns to me, confusion on his face. “You don’t have to do this.”

Yes, I do.

Eloric purses his lips, but he nods.

I didn’t lie.

They’re just not asking the right questions.

CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR

Strange how aroom filled with Sovereign Kings becomes easier to navigate once they have the promise of power.

They’re no better than demons.

Things flowed smoothly following my interrogation. A few of the kings demanded to see my wings, and while I wanted nothing more than to free them, I refused.

I am not a creature to be gawked and gaped at. I don’t exist for their entertainment. If they can’t take me at my word in the presence of a truthteller, that is not an issue for me to grapple.

The question of the hour boiled down to why Netharis would be so desperate to return me to the hells—and honestly, it’s a question I couldn’t answer. I didn’t have an answer.

At least, not an answer I felt was the correct one.

They followed with questions of the hells.

And secrets of the hells be damned, I owe no allegiance to Netharis. I spent hours sharing what I know about the hierarchies, the Layer Lords, the species of demons and undead within Netharis’ ranks. I detailed how to disrupt their maneuver tactics, why the fae should quickly dispatch commanders while avoiding generals, and taught them the old magic runes needed to cast shield-like wards capable of deflecting several blood magic spells.

Only those armed with bloodstone should consider taking on a general or any of the Layer Lords. Even then, never alone. None of the Sovereign Kings were willing to tell me whether they possessed any of the material, so it’s safer to assume they do not.

On the off chance they happen to have it and they simply did not want to tell me, I can’t blame them—they don’t know or trust me.I am Netharis’ daughter after all. Unfortunately, I don’t have the time to earn their trust the way I should. If this bloodstone alloy they’ve created is truly capable of killing a god, the gods are going to want to take it.

Of course, discussion regarding the night of the harpy attack arose—and I did my best to reign in my emotions. Bearing my anger, shame, and pain to a room full of Sovereign Kings would do me no favors. And if I opened that box in front of them, I don’t know how quickly I’d be able to close it.

Questions regarding my history as a Death Bringer were raised—the purpose of my role, how many Death Bringers, our abilities, and our place within Netharis’ hierarchy.

It was when they started asking about souls I drew a hard boundary.

I made it clear I would not be detailing the collection, processing, cataloging, treatment, storage, or fate of souls destined for the hells. Sharingthatkind of information carries great risk of driving some of these fae to madness. A mortal should not know what could potentially be awaiting them once their time in the living realm comes to an end.