Page 31

31

THE QUEEN’S FAVOR

Ryther

I'm immobile for seconds, horror freezing me into place. Then I run, catching her before she falls.

A poison acting this fast, on something like her? It can only be faebane.

Loch is as shocked as I am, trembling as he watches her face turn blue.

"No one leaves," I snap, as my shadows stretch to engulf the room, blocking every exit. "I want every single guest interrogated."

Then my hands are on hers. I don't even attempt anything less. I directly transfer my own energy straight into her, draining myself of life to save this woman. Again.

Except things have changed since I last found myself in this situation. And a good thing, too. If Darina had just been fae, she'd be dead.

But I can feel the stone in place of her heart still beating.

The thing inside me under the surface is appalled. Yes, it wants her to suffer but not like this. Never like this. And certainly not by someone else's hand. No one has any right to take her from me. If someone throttles her, it’ll damn well be me.

"Why couldn't I be bound to someone of no importance? A low fae would have been nice," I grunt, feeling my hair grow past my shoulder again ."A puck. A pixie. Hells, I would have been blessed to take a troll rather than this dramatic magnet for danger."

I'm frustrated more than afraid. She will survive this. She will .

Valdred and Loch are on her, helping without being prompted.

"Don't bother," I tell them.

I'm no longer entirely a thing of flesh and bone. I've already given her twice the amount of energy that would have killed me days ago, and I still feel more.

"I don't need assistance this time. And she'll drain you much faster than she did a few days ago."

She already has. Both are pale, worn, with claws for nails and hair past their chests.

"I tried the wine," Loch says. "Right before coming in, I tried it."

"Junis's wife," Valdred says. "She was a distraction. Someone must have slipped the bane into the cup while we were paying attention to her."

I am immensely fascinated by the matter of the culprit, but for now, my priority is making sure Darina stops fucking dying .

I take stock of the potions at my belt, in my pockets and the hems of my clothes. Useless. None have any properties that can counteract faebane, the mixture brewed from the roots of faeblooms, with the property of draining the life of the folk.

It would have killed everyone in this room in an instant, but not her. Not us . The weak beats of the hard stone in her chest confirms that. So the question isn’t saving her life, it’s giving her the life force she’s lost.

The solution comes to me from inside, not my own at all.

Her fae body cannot take faebane. It's the opposite of the magic that makes us. It's destroying it from the inside out. But the thing I made her become isn't fae. The flesh is dying, then being remade, over and over in a loop.

She doesn't need energy; the All has plenty. She needs life .

"Find me whoever did this," I demand.

Then I'm pulling her skirts, opening my pants and shoving my cock right into her, though she's dry and I'm too soft.

I can't say this is a fantasy of mine. I prefer my partners lucid. At the very least, alive. But I don't pay attention to the way she's too still and unmoving, head lolling to one side. I fuck her hard and fast, ignoring the crowd, who seem far too amused.

I fuck her until I come, and keep fucking her again.

By now the court has turned this funeral into an orgy, those who aren't watching joining the fun by mounting each other. They don't understand what I could possibly be doing to a corpse, of course, but it's not in the nature of a fae to question something as entertaining as this.

It takes hours, or days, I don't know. I'm sweating and disgusting, as well as disgusted with myself. But at long, long last, I feel her legs tighten around me, her hands grasping my arms.

The first breath out of her mouth dizzies me. It's all I can do not to pass out. I roll onto my back and breathe in and out, my heart beating too fast.

I close my eyes, and it's Darina's turn to worry over me, bringing my head to her lap. "Ryther. Ryther, are you all right?"

I nod weakly. "Just give me a moment."

"Impossible!" someone hisses.

"She can't be alive."

"She was dead!"

"What is this sorcery?"

I tune them all out.

"Someone poisoned me with something lethal, didn't they?" she mused. "I should be dead."

“Good thing we aren’t that easy to kill, you and I.”

She looks around the stunned faces of the folk, a smile tugging on her lips. “They have an interesting way of dealing with a potential death.”

Almost everyone’s in various state of undress; sweat and other body fluids hangs in the air.

“That would be my fault. I had to…inject your body with life.” I wince at the reminder. “I thought about murdering whoever did this instead, but our friends didn't find the culprit, so there you have it."

With some effort, I sit up, bringing my hand to her cheek.

Then she stands, unprompted, and faces the crowd who still gape, mutter and murmur.

My shadows have completely blocked every window and doors, and they lit lanterns to see by candlelight.

It occurs to me that she's never been more like us than in this moment, disheveled, wild.

"Nice try," she calls out loud, lips quirking. "Now where's my crown?"

* * *

T here will doubtfully be many tales and paintings and songs about the coronation of the new queen, with her clothes out of place, her naked court too baffled to speak, as the golden prince places the crown upon her disheveled blue hair.

As she speaks the vow binding her as protector of Ilvaris and high queen of its lords, I slide back from the dais.

“I vow forever night,” Darina proclaims. “To shadow and darkness, to light and fire: I will stand between Ilvaris and any threat, until my death or my release from the crown.”

“And by all the gods, ancient and new, your vow is heard,” Loch recites. “Folk, great and small, do you accept the queen’s pledge?”

All the lords and ladies accept. Reluctant, eager, intrigued, or hateful, they all say the words. So do I. None of us have a choice. Before being recognized as the ruler of any of our court, we’ve all sworn to obey the rightful queen. So surely as her vow ties her to Ilvaris, ours tie us to her.

As soon as the enthused “Aye” leaves my throat, I stride toward my quarry, ignoring the rest of the ceremony: the individual lords making their way to Darina, offering praise, congratulations, and requests.

This is her first instance of holding court. I would have gladly watched every moment, if I didn’t have a pressing matter to address first.

My shadows surround the dainty frame of the pale seelie lady who attempts to discreetly make her way to the back of the room, planning a prompt exit once the doors reopen.

“Not so fast, my friend,” I whisper in her ear as my fingers tighten around her slender shoulders. “You and I need to have a talk.”

Lady Fawn swallows, her fear so thick I can taste it.

“I…I didn’t know. They told me she’d killed my husband. They said I should demand reparation now, in public. It…it made sense. To hurt her while I could. Before the vows. What would you have done?” she cries out, her voice drawing the gaze.

“Yes,” I reply, ever so softly. “And you’d tell me would have hated to see any harm come to my mate if you could, no doubt. Alas, we cannot lie. I only have one question for you. Who are they ?”

Fawn isn’t fond of unnecessary pain, so she tells me, and I reward her with the quick death she’s earned, simply twisting her throat.

I could have covered her corpse in shadows to avoid the dramatics, but what’s a coronation without a little murder? Every single person here knew that there was going to be blood eventually, after an attempt on the queen’s life.

I want them to see how I deal with those who threaten my mate.

There’s no doubt I am within my rights for taking her life, but if anyone wishes to demand satisfaction for Fawn’s death, they’re very welcome to.

My peers join me, and we return to our chatter and jokes, not even mentioning the dead lady rotting at my feet.

When the last of the lords has bowed and thanked the queen for her attention, I push away from the doors. “My turn, friends,” I tell my entourage, drawing a few chuckles.

I’ve warned Darina I’d come to her, and now, in public, with the most important leaders of the land to witness it, still feels like the right moment to ask. Still, I can’t deny the inconvenient attempted murder has complicated the matter.

They all saw me fuck the living daylights out of her. That she grants me favor is already a humongous problem, and they had a front row seat to confirm it.

Fuck, she’s beautiful in her crown, so obviously thoroughly fucked, and with my smell on her skin.

“High queen,” I say, lowering my head in deference.

“Mate,” she replies. “Have you come to get on your knees? I’d quite enjoy that.”

There are more than a few chuckles.

“If you wish, it’ll be my pleasure. I would like to appeal for your judgement on an important matter, first, if I may.”

She lifts her regal hand. “Ask.”

“When your mother ruled, the land was different. More divided. Many of the lower courts had open conflicts, wars, and the queen let them settle their affairs in a manner of their choosing.”

She nods. “I understand it’s not my place to interfere in local conflicts.”

“Indeed. In the absence of a high seat, we unseelie have formed an alliance to prevent all-out wars in our land. It doesn’t entirely eliminate small skirmishes between individuals, but when there’s a disagreement over anything of importance on the eastern shore, the lords come to me. I am the unseelie king. I would like you to recognize and permit me to retain the title I earned and the position I occupy, if you see fit.”

I keep my gaze set on her, ignoring the sudden whispers and chatter amongst the crowd.

I am asking for much. The courts’ lands are duchies, principalities, earldoms, depending on their might, size, and riches. Accepting that I am the ruler, the king of half of this world, weakens her power.

“Like that hasn’t already been decided as pillow talk,” someone sneers, loud enough for Darina to turn from my gaze to his.

The boy who said those words swallows at the sudden attention from the high queen.

She only smiles. “Let me assure you in no uncertain terms that it’s the first I’ve heard of this request.”

She stands, walking about the dais, looking at each of her subjects.

As her green eyes fall on the woman clad in a white gown, standing right at the front, they seem to shift, darkening.

“What say you, dear Rena?” Darina pointedly asks the bitch. “I understand you’re called the bright queen because you’ve combined the might of two courts, but that was after my mother’s passing. Should you and Ryther keep your lower kingdoms, now that there’s a new queen in the high seat, or would the courts think it too confusing?”

I can practically see my old sister-in-law boil with rage. She can either side with me or see her own title demoted, the way Rina’s presented it.

Damn, she’s gotten good at this, so fast.

“I do not think it confusing at all. There’s quite a difference between a queen and the queen.”

Rina nods. “Well then, it’s settled. Your request is approved, and in the same vein, Rena will also keep her title. I acknowledge all formerly granted or earned titles, all currently established borders. Should there be cause to change anything in the future, I expect to be consulted. Are you satisfied?”

She’s asking the high court, not me. There are begrudging nods and acquiescence.

Last night, she enthroned Valdred on a whim and no one questioned it, but letting me keep my title is seen as favoritism, even as she’s presented it.

We’re going to have to do something about the court’s perception of her bias, especially in light of what Fawn confirmed before I snapped her neck.

She was approached by a dozen folk, coming from every court except the hunt, the wild and the untamed court. Not the lords themselves, just gossips, courtiers, the occasional advisor.

Any one of them could have planned the assassination.

In all likelihood? Everyone had a hand in it.