Page 62 of Raven Rebel (Sablewood #1)

Meara

C erne wouldn’t look at Meara as they strode through the halls. She ignored the guards at their back and rushed to keep pace with him, glaring at his head the entire way.

She had spent a short time in a spare room. It was long enough for her to scrub the human’s charcoal paint from her face that branded her a traitor. She didn’t regret her actions, but she would prefer to not be jailed for treason.

Still feeling woozy, she had shed her disgusting leather armor, clearly from Dornadan, and scrubbed the blood from her skin. But there was nothing she could do about her filthy shirt and leggings.

Cerne had knocked on the door and demanded she accompany him to the throne room to face sentencing. She choked on the word. It was not a trial she could use to defend herself, but simply a decision made for her by rulers she hardly knew.

Cerne’s jaw clenched as he continued to ignore her. He was being childish.

“Cerne,” she said. “I would think you’d understand. I wasn’t trying to hurt you.”

He stopped so suddenly she had to skid to a halt and step back to face him. His mossy eyes burned with anger. “You did not hurt me. You killed my people.”

She couldn’t deny it, but that didn’t stop her own anger from flaring. “I was trying to keep innocents safe. Slow down the massacre of humans that I could not stop. They never stood a chance and you know it. Those were your friends and allies.”

“They were no longer friends when they declared war and moved against us.” His mossy eyes were hard.

“Emeric and Eldric didn’t want to do that,” Meara said, throwing up her hands. “They were forced into it because of their treaty with Liosliath. Eldric wanted peace.”

Cerne huffed and turned away, resuming his walk, but Meara wasn’t done. Hurrying after him, she spat, “If the faerie hadn’t stolen away a human girl, none of this would have happened.” No response.

They reached the throne room. The doors stood wide open and voices poured out, echoing into the entrance hall. He paused, narrowing his eyes on her. “Don’t make me regret not placing iron chains on you.”

She clamped her teeth shut. He grabbed her elbow and dragged her inside. They stood toward the back.

In front of the vacant thrones, King Eldric and Queen Malacia stood with faerie guards around them instead of their own people. Documents sat upon a marble pedestal. Malacia lowered a fountain pen to the papers and signed. Eldric must have done so already because he watched, his eyes dull.

A memory of Emeric lying in his own blood forced its way into her mind and she cringed. The human king must be grieving deeply. She looked for Eladin, but her eyes caught on a glittering figure standing near the front.

Brenna stood tall and graceful, golden hair streaming down her back in loose, wild curls. She was unrecognizable in a dress that reflected the flickering flames around them. Jewels glinted on her pointed ears. Her hand rested on Emrys' forearm, and Meara’s stomach clenched.

The humans filed out. Malacia sneered at the faerie around her, and Meara clenched her fists. If Luce had not stopped her, the queen would not have lived to threaten both Dornadan and the fae again. And Meara had no doubt that she would.

Someone slammed a staff down on the dais. Aletris stepped up and addressed the crowd. With her ivory dress and sunburst crown, she reminded Meara of a priestess.

“Our dear high king can no longer fulfill his duties, per our traditions. We must deliberate on who will step up into this arduous role.”

The low voices of the faerie nobles gathered rose into a dull roar.

Aletris took the golden staff in her hand and struck the stone floor once more. “Who is eligible and willing?”

“Why can’t Argyro rule?” she asked Cerne quietly.

His mouth was a grim line. “He was injured severely.”

“Won’t he recover? What about Queen Araluen?” she said, her voice rising.

There was a harshness to his expression she had never seen on his face before. It was as if his playful confidence had burned away to leave nothing but tightly reigned anger.

“The high king and queen are no longer eligible to rule. Another wedded pair must be selected.” He stiffened. She turned to follow his gaze.

Emrys stepped onto the platform with Brenna at his side, her eyes staring straight ahead. Meara’s stomach dropped.

“I, Emrys, son of Baelor, brother of Elio, son of Azar, am eligible for the crown. My partner and I are to be wed within the day. We magic share.” Emrys raised a hand and conjured a flame that faded into light. Horror filled Meara’s chest, churning her stomach.

“But your partner is not of royal lineage,” Aletris argued.

“She is.” Emrys stated calmly. “She is the daughter of Lord Daryan and Lady Lakiya, and an heir of the Court of Spring Renewal.”

Meara watched her sister’s body tense, mirroring her own shock. Daughter of Daryan, the Spring Lord who lost twin daughters. Over twenty years ago. Killed because of a prophecy. That could not be possible.

Silence followed his declaration, before furious whispers broke out throughout those gathered.

Aletris had to knock her staff against the ground once more. “We shall have to confirm this.” Her voice was hard, but Meara heard the shock underneath her words.

“Absolutely,” Emrys said, his smile feline.

“Very well.” Aletris said. “The court rulers shall deliberate to confirm your claim. Are there any others that wish to rise?” She looked over the room. No one addressed her.

Emrys ducked into a shallow bow. “We await your word. I do have one request. Please delay ruling upon the charges against Lady Meara until tomorrow.”

Aletris looked to the lords and ladies around her and then nodded. “Very well.”

“Thank you,” Brenna said, smiling graciously. She dipped into a graceful curtsey, though she kept her chin high.

Meara looked to Cerne, her frown deepening. His eyes flicked to her and away. “Did you know?” she hissed.

Cerne’s lip curled and he refused to answer her.

Emrys took Brenna’s hand and ushered her down the walkway.

She walked with her head high and shoulders back.

Meara stared, her shock ebbing into anguish at the thought her sister was to wed a faerie she barely knew.

The crowd began to disperse, and Cerne finally turned toward her.

She glared at him. “Did you know who we were?”

He crossed his arms. “If I had any evidence that you were my friend’s deceased daughters, I never would have brought you here.”

She stared at him and the way his face hardened. “Did you suspect?”

Cerne scoffed, but did not answer her question. “You must return to your assigned rooms until tomorrow.” He nodded to two uniformed guards who seized her arms. “This is for your safety. Others would not wait until your sentencing to exact revenge. I cannot protect you any longer.”

“I can walk!” she said, struggling against them. “Cerne, I am not done with this.” He turned away from her, leaving her almost feral, growling as the guards pulled her out of the throne room.

Meara planted her feet until the guards were practically carrying her. She snarled at them, when they were intercepted. Luce crossed his arms, biceps bulging in a subtle threat. “Sirs, I will take her to her room.”

“My lord, we have orders,” one protested.

Luce held up a hand glowing with light. “I am the one with light magic that can control her. Do you really want to risk her nightmares swallowing you up?”

Meara gritted her teeth. She did not control nightmares.

Though she felt as if she was in one. She fought the fog of panic overtaking her brain, trying to recall what was stated of the prophecy and Daryan’s daughters.

All she could remember was that some faerie wanted them killed to eliminate the threat they would become.

And that the Lord of the Summer was responsible for their supposed death.

Her breath wavered as she looked up at Luce.

The guards stepped back and he held out a hand to usher her forward.

She shouldn’t go with him, but she had no choice.

They navigated halls she did not recognize in uneasy silence. She couldn’t help but feel she was walking to her death. “Are you going to finish the job your father started?” she finally asked. The least he could do was be honest about his intentions.

Luce’s jaw ticked as he ground his teeth together. She waited for an answer that did not come until he pushed open a sunburst door and brought her into the summer court apartments.

Before she could take in the room, Luce turned and slammed his hand into the wall, penning her between the closed door and his bulky frame. She swallowed, noticing how much broader he was than Cerne. He could crush her with his bare hands, no need for his magic.

“Meara.” Her name was a plea on his lips. “If I wanted you dead, it would be so easy. But I am not my father.”

She raised her chin. “I’m the reason your father is dead. ”

“He was cruel. I hold no anger toward Daryan.”

Flinching, she looked up into Luce’s mismatched eyes. “Then why the feud?”

He laughed. “I simply do not like Cerne.”

Her world was falling apart around her and she was backed up against a wall with someone who should be her enemy leaning over her. A hysterical laugh worked its way out of her throat.

“Meara,” he said again, silencing her. “You need to leave.”

“I can’t.”

“You must,” he reiterated.

Meara frowned, crossing her arms. “I have to protect Brenna.”

“How are you going to do that from the prison built under this castle?”

“My sister is becoming queen. She won’t let that happen.”

His laughter was short and humorless. “Emrys will not allow that. She may pardon you, but Emrys will keep you far from Brenna. Whether it be exile or imprisonment in another form, he will not allow you to stay here, nor will he let you go free.”

“All the more reason that I have to protect my sister, no matter the consequence.”

“You are going to have to trust me to watch out for her, because you cannot, no matter how determined you are otherwise.” His tone left no room for argument.

“If I refuse?”

He paused, running his hand through his hair. “Meara, I am asking you to let me help. You can write to Brenna, and if I am wrong, I can bring you back once things are cleared up.”

She exhaled sharply, and Luce took it as acceptance.

“I’ve spoken to Sigmis. He can shelter you in his court. He wields shadows as well, so it’s a good opportunity for you to gain better control and learn the extent of your abilities.”

“The Court of Darkness?” she asked, shocked he would suggest such a thing. “They are the reason this war happened!”

“You don’t believe that,” Luce said, tilting his head. “And perhaps you can speak with Elysia and Kyrell and learn the truth of their situation.”

“Unlikely,” she said with a growl.

“Meara, you must trust me,” Luce growled, deeper and rougher.

Hands clenched into fists, Meara huffed. “I suppose I have no choice.”

“We must get you out of here before the nobles such as my mother begin to travel home after the coronation tomorrow morning.”

“Coronation,” she repeated, her expression crumpling into bitter defeat. “She’s going to marry him.”

“We cannot stop it,” Luce said, pausing. “I’m sorry.”

Meara dragged her hand over her face. “I wish I could talk to her. But it probably wouldn’t do any good.”

Luce nodded silently.

“So what’s the plan?”

Harin of the Summer Court arrived an hour later, his horse ready to ride. The fae spoke quietly for a few minutes, and then Luce boosted her to sit on the horse’s haunches with her arms looped around Harin’s waist.

“Are you ready?” the illusionist asked.

“No, but I have no choice,” Meara said, her voice hollow.

“Be safe and swift,” Luce said, patting the horse’s shoulder. Harin nodded. He rested a hand on Meara’s thigh, and she felt a shimmer of his magic as he cast an illusion to hide her.

She leaned against his back as they rode out of Court Tara and turned north, toward the Summer Court. It felt as if her heart was being ripped out and left behind in the white stone palace, and she vowed she would return for Brenna when she was strong enough.