Page 2 of House of Embers (Royal Houses #5)

Chapter Two

The War Council

The king’s advisers were flapping their arms like wings, pointing fingers, and gesturing dramatically. And it was all about her.

Kerrigan had to fight back a smirk. As if being upset with their king was going to get him to throw Kerrigan aside for someone more acceptable to the general populace.

They had no idea what she and Fordham had been through or what it would take to end the curse on his family.

There was only one option forward. They would get to it eventually.

“Enough,” Fordham said in that icy tone that brooked no argument.

The room quieted, but the tension was thick in the air.

“You come to my war room, not to discuss going to war with the Society but my choice of bride?” Fordham’s eyes roamed the dozen people standing on the other side of the massive desk. “I am your king. This is not a discussion.”

“Your Majesty”—a graying Fae with pale skin and lavish robes gestured to Fordham—“we recognize your authority, but you have been away for some time.”

“That’s an understatement, René,” another Fae male snarled.

He was much younger, closer to Fordham’s age, with stark-white hair brushed off his forehead and piercing blue eyes.

“You were exiled from our halls. You abandoned us to the very Society you wish to overthrow. You fought with them against your own people.” He beat his fist against the table, and it rattled. “You disgraced us.”

Fordham stood very still as he stared down his nose at the male. Kerrigan didn’t know how he had the restraint. She wanted to punch him just for laying out the history as if it was how it had all happened.

“Barron, stand down,” René said.

“I will not,” Barron said. “I said nothing when he came back. I said nothing when his sister claimed the throne after him. At least she was here when the walls fell. At least she fought with us.”

Prescott jumped up in indignation, but Wynter put her hand out to stop him.

“I only returned as regent,” she corrected swiftly.

“I held it in my brother’s absence, and I made that clear from the start.

Fordham Ollivier is the rightful king of the House of Shadows.

Whatever you say, Barron, keep my name out of it. ”

Kerrigan kept her expression neutral, but internally she was grateful for Wynter. Before, she had been their enemy and nearly killed Fordham. But her mind had been against her, and after treatment, she was much more clearheaded and a good ally.

Especially because Fordham had not just “left” his throne.

Kerrigan and Fordham had fallen through a portal into the land of the gods.

They had clawed their way out of the horrible world with hopes of bringing home magic that could save their people from the Red Masks.

Not that they had any intention of telling Fordham’s subjects the gritty details of those trials.

“You can say what you want,” Barron continued, waving his fist at them. “You can rewrite history however you see fit, but you’re just proving that you’re not fit for the throne. And I’ll happily speak for the whole Laurent family.”

Fordham nodded once. “A rousing show, Barron.”

“I have been here in your absence.”

“Opportunistic of you,” Fordham said dryly.

Barron’s face purpled at the quip. “I was here when you were gallivanting around the empire, sullying your good name with a half-Fae. The Laurents deserve more respect for holding up the kingdom and weathering your absence.”

“Hear, hear!” came voices from the Laurent side.

“And the Blanchards!” another chimed in.

Another round of cries for their family.

“And what of the Olliviers?”

A cheer came from the center of the room—Fae who would kill rather than see another royal house on the throne.

“Are you suggesting that I am not fit for the throne that I inherited? That I did not stand at my father’s side for years learning how to take over?

” Fordham set his palms flat on the table.

“Or are you saying something else? That an Ollivier is not fit for the throne? Are you suggesting a Blanchard or a Laurent instead?”

Barron certainly seemed to think that, but before he could say otherwise, a female Fae stepped forward. “No one is suggesting that there is a more worthy successor to your father, the great King Samael Ollivier.” She wore glittering jewelry on every part of her body and even threaded into her gown.

“Exactly, Celeste,” another male said. “That wasn’t the implication. We support your right to rule.”

Celeste waved her bejeweled hand. “Only that allying with a Blanchard or a Laurent would…show greater support for our people.”

Kerrigan lifted her chin. She knew exactly what they meant by that—and the dangerous line they were walking.

“Speak plainly,” Fordham said in a voice that said they should absolutely not do that.

She gestured to the female at her side. “My daughter, Aurelie, would be an option.”

Viviana huffed. Aurelie’s cheeks heated and she took a step backward as if she did not want to be a part of this conversation.

“Viviana would be a better choice,” René said.

All eyes turned to the dowager queen. “I wouldn’t be opposed,” she said, fluttering her eyelashes at Fordham.

Which was an understatement. Viviana had been trying to get her claws into Fordham while she had been married to his father. But as a Blanchard and the dowager queen, she was someone the people already recognized.

Fordham drummed his fingers against the table.

He never once glanced at his father’s widow, only around at his subjects: Barron, who looked as if he wanted to be the one marrying the queen and taking Fordham’s place; René, who seemed genuine about his concerns; Celeste, who might have put her own hat in the ring if she thought it would get her a seat on a throne.

Then finally, he looked to Kerrigan. Their eyes met and her heart skipped a beat.

“What do you think?” His face was somber, but his eyes were sparking with mischievous danger.

“That this has gone on long enough.”

He nodded once. Then he took her left hand in his and placed a kiss on the finger that held his mother’s ring. “My queen.”

Viviana snorted. “You’d defile these halls with that leatha?”

Kerrigan didn’t even have time to sneer at the racial slur that meant, generously, half-breed bitch, because Fordham reacted on a hair trigger.

His black shadows erupted into the room.

Not the trickle he’d had before they’d landed in Domara, been sold into slavery, and entered into a gladiator tournament but the roar that he had now that their mating bond had been connected through the Daijan bond, which allowed them to share powers.

His magic was now magnified by her own immense power.

The room went dark. A pitch-black nothingness that sent screams into the room. It was choking and oppressive, like being dipped in inky, suffocating smoke. Like there would never be light again.

Even though Kerrigan could never fear something that came from Fordham ever again, even though the shadows were as much at her command now as his, even though the fear was intoxicating in its own way, she still felt the weight in the gesture.

This was pain magnified. And Fordham should have been able to control his shadows better. His reaction was an outburst that they couldn’t afford unless they wanted to take this throne a different way.

So she put her hand on Fordham’s shoulder. At the touch, she felt something release, and the darkness receded enough to bring back the light.

His shadows still writhed across his extended arm, which was pointed at Viviana, who was choking in the corner.

Black smoke encircled her throat, lifting her off her feet.

His face was hard and unyielding, the dark prince he’d had to be for so long to survive this court.

He was that male no longer, and Kerrigan hated to see it on him, even in defending her.

“I can fight my own battles,” she told him.

He ground his teeth together. It seemed like he didn’t want to control his outburst. He wanted to snuff the life out of this sniveling female who had sold out his kingdom and insulted his love.

No one would stop him. In fact, most would revel in it.

To gain power in the House of Shadows, you had to take it.

But Kerrigan didn’t want to know what it would do to him afterward.

“Fordham,” she said in an insistent tone.

His shadows dropped, and Viviana fell with them. She landed on her hands and knees, gasping for breath. Tears streamed down her perfectly made-up face. Red marks ringed her neck, and claw marks from her scratching at the invisible shadow bonds were visible.

“In case you didn’t know,” Kerrigan said evenly, “that isn’t a word we use in polite company.”

Viviana glared up at her. But she knew better than to insult her again. At least that lesson had been learned…for now.

Kerrigan placed her hands on the table and addressed the room.

“The real threat is out there.” She pointed away from the House of Shadows and the Dark Court and Ravinia Mountain.

“It’s inside Draco Mountain, inside the heart of the Society.

The Red Masks have infiltrated and taken over the government.

They’re killing people and removing the magic of any humans or half-Fae who have it.

I realize that you don’t care about them, about anyone like me, but the Red Masks are the same people who don’t want you to have a seat at the table, the same ones who stripped you of your rights, and I was the only one there defending you. ”

The Fae looked skeptical of this. They looked back and forth between Kerrigan and Fordham as if this were some trick.

“Fordham had already left to remove the curse on the Ollivier line. I had to renounce my place with the House of Shadows or else not become a Society member. But when they gave me that option, I made them stop and think about the choice they had made with you. I had been within your walls. I knew the hold the thousand-year barrier put on your people, and I was the one who took it down, not Wynter.” She pointed at the princess, who nodded her agreement.

“I did that. I helped your king remove his curse. I fought for your rights. And I am still here.” She lifted her chin.

“Me. The half-Fae, the leatha that upsets your sensibilities. I’m the one fighting for House Charbonnet, and I’m going to be the one married to your king.

You can accept that now, or you can be on the losing side of history. ”

Silence followed her declaration. It was a risk speaking to the nobility like this.

They had spent far too long hating people like her, but she had to put it all out there, and she couldn’t hide behind Fordham forever.

She could have told them about the shadows she now controlled, about the fact that she wasn’t half-human at all but what the gods called a Fae-touched demi-Doma—half-Fae, half-god—or that she could open portals at will.

But none of that would make them respect her, only fear her.

She’d try for respect first, and if it came to it, she’d take their fear.

“As you say,” René finally said with a slight bob of his head.

Viviana looked like she wanted to run him through with a sword, but she was still panting and desperate on the ground.

“My queen.” Barron offered Viviana a hand. “No pretty speeches are going to change my mind.”

Viviana took his hand and came to her feet. “Blanchard and Laurent are united in this.” Then she let Barron escort her out.

The rest of the Fae assembled watched as the line was drawn in the sand. It wasn’t clear which side those still in the room were on, but if it was Fordham’s power that kept them in line, then so be it.

Kerrigan knew this was only a first step, that it was all far from over. But they had won today.

“Good,” Fordham said smoothly. “Now, start over with where we are on the army.”