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Chapter Thirteen

A elia

“Can you kindly not call me princess?” The request—no, the command burst free before I could stop it. Every time the king called me that, my thoughts flew to Reign and the crushing pain in my chest only grew more violent.

“Why not? It is your title, Aelia.”

I couldn’t very well tell him the real reason I despised the treasured word coming from his lips. “Because I am not your princess. Despite what you say, I will never be the Princess of the Court of Infernal Night.”

Helroth’s eyes flashed, those pools of burning crimson searing into me from across the throne room. “You can deny it all you wish, but the fact still remains, and I will prove it to you today.” He crooked a long finger, beckoning me closer.

When I remained fixed to the spot, Kaelith shoved me forward, his meaty palm colliding with my lower back. “Move, Light Fae.”

“For the love of Noxus, must you be so pushy?” I hissed over my shoulder.

“It is unwise to keep a royal waiting.” Kae moved into step beside me, escorting me toward the king who sat atop his monstrous spiked throne, looking down upon us as we approached. Helroth was enormous with shoulders as wide as an oxyn and broad as a buil, and still the gigantic, regal seat dwarfed the male.

Now within a yard of the king, without the terror of when we first met or the debilitating darkness of my cell, I was finally able to admire his timeless countenance. Much like Elian and Tenebris, Helroth’s face belonged to someone only a quarter of his lifetime. His ebony skin was flawless, a midnight blaze illuminating the male in an otherworldly glow. Glistening silver hair cascaded across his black surcoat, the sharp discord in hues only highlighting the stark cruelty of his dark armored form. His presence was a storm given shape—a paradox of unyielding strength and the unearthly grace that marked his lineage as Night Fae King. My grandfather…

Despite feeling the truth of it within the deepest marrow of my bones, I still couldn’t quite reconcile the disparity. As a child, I’d often dreamt of the family I’d lost, of the warm and caring mother, the doting father. But this beast of a man as my grandsire? Never.

And if this monster was my mother’s father, then what had she been like? Surely, not the kind, sweet, coddling female I’d imagined. How could anyone who left a soul to rot in that torture chamber for over a month rear a decent child? It’s no wonder she’d abandoned me. And what of my father?

“Have you lost your tongue, child?” The king’s dark gaze pierced my own, searching for what, I had no idea.

I blinked quickly, chasing away the jumble of thoughts consuming my mind. An odd mixture of grief and anger tussled through my insides.

“Kaelith here tells me you’ve done nothing but ramble in his presence.”

“I’m thinking, that’s all.”

“About what?”

“My mother, my father… What kind of a grandfather abandons his own blood to suffer in endless darkness for weeks?” The angry words were out before I could stop them. A part of me wished to take them back, but the other half was exhausted and furious and needed answers. Not to mention tired of always being in the dark—pun not intended.

The corner of his lip twitched before the mask of calm once again settled over. “I already explained to you?—”

“Yes, yes, you were away and didn’t trust me. I’m sure Kaelith here could have seen to my confinement in slightly less awful accommodations.”

The guard at my side gasped, his sharp inhale making me pause. Perhaps no one had ever dared to speak to the king in this manner. Well, I was done holding my tongue. After years without real family, to be treated in such a way by the only living relative remaining had broken something inside me.

Helroth slid to the end of the throne, a predatory gleam in his eyes. “I appreciate the honesty, princess, but I must ask you to refrain from speaking to me in such a disrespectful tone. Despite being your grandsire, I am still the king.” His hand snaked out, curling around my manacled wrists and pops of energy prickled across my skin.

I jerked away from his touch, and my hands came apart, the blood shackles I’d been forced to wear for nearly forty days dissipating into nothingness. I barely restrained a groan of delight as I stared down at my wrists, finally freed.

Those ominous orbs razed over me, an expectant smile twisting the corners of his lips. He couldn’t possibly expect a thank you, could he?

Instead, I continued on, as if his modicum of kindness had gone completely unnoticed. “You claim to be the king, but the king of what exactly? I haven’t seen a single subject within the Keep. Or do you force all your citizens to reside in the dungeon as well?”

“Aelia…” Kaelith growled low.

I’d clearly snapped. I knew very well I was treading a thin line, but I’d also realized that if the king wanted me dead, I would already be resting in Noxus’s arms. He clearly wanted something from me, and that was the key to my survival.

Helroth slowly rose, unfolding his massive frame to his full, terrifying height. Reign was tall, at over a head higher than me, and this male would tower over even him. My spine snapped straight, eyes fixed on those pulsating crimson coals. Do not look weak. You are Aelia, carved of stone. I repeated the mantra over and over again, and this time, there were no other voices in my head besides my own.

He inched closer until the pungent odor of sulfur and smoke filled my nostrils. “My people— our people—are in hiding because of those gods’ damned kings above ground. And you are alive only at my whim. Need I remind you that it was me who had your dangerous tangle of energy bound as an infant? If it weren’t for my power, you would have been discovered and killed long ago.”

His lips twisted in disgust, a tendon fluttering across his wide jaw. “If you want honesty, I will give it to you, child. You have grown weak over the years, and I need you strong for what is to come. Night Fae are honed from shadow and steel, their resolve tempered in the fires of despair and the cold embrace of the void. You, Aelia, are soft—too reliant on the light to guide you, too tethered to hope. But strength does not come from comfort. It comes from enduring the darkness and emerging unbroken.”

A chill surged up my spine at the fire in his words and the burning violence in his gaze. “And what of my father? Was he like you? Or perhaps, I inherited my good nature from him.”

“You have no father,” he snarled. “He impregnated your mother and abandoned her long ago.”

A blade to the heart would have hurt less. In the past few days, as I’d attempted to come to terms with the fact that I could share blood with this horrible male, my only consolation was that of a worthy father.

“Are you certain?” My voice faltered, and gods, I hated the weak tremble.

“Am I certain? As if I could ever expunge the shameful secret! My only daughter, defiled by some worthless male seeking only the warmth between a female’s thighs.” His lips twisted, disgust etched along the smooth planes of his countenance.

A charged silence filled the vast chamber as thoughts of the past flashed across the endless night of the king’s narrowed glare. When the quiet grew to uncomfortable lengths, I finally spat, “What do you want from me?”

“Your powers unbound to start.”

“To what end?”

He hinged at the waist until we were nose to nose, his powerful zar encapsulating us in a cloud of night. It danced over my skin, permeating my tattered clothes and infiltrating straight down to my core. My rais surged to the surface, furious at the unwelcome intrusion. “To whatever end I see fit,” he hissed.

“I won’t be your Infernal Court princess, Helroth. I will never fight for you against them.”

A wicked smirk curled his lips, and pure malice brightened the dark void of his gaze. “Never is a very long time, princess. As a Fae, you’ll come to understand that soon enough.” With that, he spun on his heel and barked something in Faerish at Kaelith.

My jailer marched to the door we’d walked through only minutes ago, wrenched it open and revealed a male leaning on a gnarled staff, standing on the other side.

He stood no taller than a child, but what he lacked in stature, he more than made up for in presence. His skin was the color of tarnished iron, a pale gray etched with faint glowing runes that pulsed with an ominous, otherworldly light.

Though he held that same ethereal grace Melisara possessed, there was something darker, much more sinister about this Spellbinder’s aura. It pulsated a muddled black with streaks of dirty russet.

Kaelith escorted him toward us, and I sensed it, that familiar smokey signature of lys , confirming my suspicions. My thoughts raced back in time to the woods of Mysthallia and the spell Melisara had cast to determine what blocked my powers. Vivid memories of the intense pain came next. Oh, gods, what would it feel like to have my abilities unblocked?

Helroth turned to the approaching male and motioned in my direction. “Tharos Dren, the princess, all grown up.”

Sharp, coal-black eyes pierced into my very soul as I met his gaze. Unable to hold it for long, I perused his raven-like hair, streaked with silver, which hung in loose strands framing his gaunt, angular face. Then my gaze drifted lower to the staff clenched in his fist, carved from shadowed wood and crowned with an obsidian stone, which seemed an extension of his frail yet commanding form.

“Ah, she is a beauty.” He staggered closer, his robes, fashioned of deep midnight hues, shimmering faintly as he moved as though woven from smoke. He reached out a knobby hand, but I jerked back and bumped into Kaelith’s unyielding form.

“Tharos is a longtime friend, Aelia, you need not be afraid of him.”

“I’m not afraid,” I snapped and took a measured step away from Kae and closer to the little dark Spellbinder. “Will you be releasing my powers?”

“It is only fitting, princess, as I was the one to bind them in the first place.”

My breath caught in my throat as I scrutinized the small male. How could this be the powerful Spellbinder who’d managed to siphon not only zar but also nox and rais to hide my abilities for twenty years.

“May I?” He lifted a hand again, and this time I didn’t flinch as he reached for the delicate chain around my neck.

“What are you doing?” I barked.

“I must remove the medallion, princess.”

“My necklace?”

He nodded. “It is the anchor for the incantation.”