Page 15 of The Crown of a Fallen Queen (Curse of the Fae #4)

I hold my breath, my heart in my throat. So alive and healthy, he reminds me of the old Elio, the man he was before he left for the Winter Court. Before the ugly business with Ethan happened, and his wings were so brutally clipped off…

“We were attacked by a nightmare,” Seth says, jolting me back to reality.

Elio unbuttons his jacket and sits beside Seth.

“I was afraid of that. Damian’s trying to isolate a small portion of the sceawere to allow safe passage between a few key locations.

Until the Shadow King reclaims his playground, no one should step into the in-between unless absolutely necessary.

For now, I’m afraid most travel across the continent will be limited to sea and land routes. ”

I rub my neck and exhale a loud, “Bloody hells,” shocked by how much the worlds can change in the span of a few days.

I knew all of this, in theory. We’ve all studied the previous wars in school and argued different points of view or decisions made during those difficult times.

No matter how much we enjoy playing warlords, trying to fix past conflicts after the fact, it’s not the same as living through them in real time.

It’s easy to think we could have done better when we already know the outcome.

All students of history, no matter how passionate they are, want to believe the same horrific patterns their ancestors wrestled with won’t get repeated.

That the people in charge have learned from those mistakes, when they seldom have.

We all want to believe the world as we know it cannot change as drastically as that.

That war is not coming.

But, cutting off easy travel between realms is war-room 101—straight out of every Fae rebel-slash-dictator playbook there is. I finally drop into the cushy armchair, landing with a sigh. “The Tidecallers have done it this time. Started a full blown war.”

Seth winks in a playful manner. “I told you so.”

The rest of us exchange a heavy glance, and we all sit in silence for a minute.

When I agreed to Seth’s terms of engagement , I was only thinking of revenge.

I was focused on using him to take back my crown.

Take back my life. I never stopped to consider that the monarchy might not survive.

If Faerie falls, there won’t be any crowns left to fight over.

Seth presses his thumb to his bottom lip. “And the Lord of the Tides? He’s a she ?”

Elio nods. “Willow Summers, the Summer King’s sister.”

“Didn’t she die a long time ago?” Seth asks.

The look Elio gives me says it all—he knows I hid the truth from him, and he resents me for letting him believe Willow was dead.

There’s no anger in his voice, but his icy gaze burns with quiet reproach.

“When you told me Willow had once approached you with wild, revolutionary plans, and that you had been tempted to join her, you failed to mention she was in leagues with the Tidecallers.”

Heat rises to my cheeks, and I lick my lips.

One of my best-kept secrets is now common knowledge, and while it’s hard to hold Elio’s accusatory gaze, it’s also a relief not to have to hide this from him anymore.

The weight of the lie, of all the half-truths and omissions—finally slips off my shoulders, leaving me raw but lighter.

“And not only in leagues with them. She probably resurrected them, stoked their ideology back to life in any pocket of unrest she could find,” Sara adds.

I chew on that possibility. Sara’s probably right, but my friendship with Willow transcends such things as politics. We’ve been through hell together.

Most people, present company included, see crowns as symbols of order and safety, but I’ve seen first-hand what power does. How it corrupts and consumes. It makes me feel like a traitor among them that I don’t immediately flinch at the thought of tearing it all down.

“Our political system is rotten, and I almost joined the Tides, that is true. Willow was a smart, charismatic leader, with a lot of wonderful ideas. She understood that the magic, the gods, the very fabric of our world, needed regional monarchies to prosper. Her dream was not to get rid of them entirely, but to make the system fair to everyone.”

“Why didn’t you join her?” Seth leans in, looking genuinely curious.

“She was a succeed-at-all-costs kind of leader. She didn’t mind sacrificing anyone—even herself—to the cause.

She wholeheartedly believed true change couldn’t be attained without tremendous loss of lives.

I was all for killing Freya, Ethan, and a few other political monsters, but Willow didn’t care about collateral damage, only the end result?—”

Seth gives my elbow a soft nudge. “You’re still bleeding.” He grazes the back of my arm, and the faint caress is too careful and too intimate for me to keep a straight face. “Are you alright?”

I’m caught off guard by the intensity of his gaze. “It’s nothing.”

He stands and moves behind me, curling his hand around the lapel of my raincoat and giving it a light tug, as if he were helping a lady out of her coat at some grand ball.

I huff and shrug off the jacket. Percy flies out of my pocket and lands on my shoulder as Seth inspects the wounds on my arm.

The prince drums his fingers next to the marks where the wolf’s teeth tore through my long-sleeved shirt and pierced my skin. The area is now sealed by bright red clots, and his brows knit together. “Doesn’t look like nothing.”

“It’s definitely something ,” Percy clips.

“Now, don’t fuss. It’s not that deep,” I warn them both.

My Faeling flies up to the puncture wounds and grimaces, shaking his head. “I can’t heal them.”

Seth’s grip tightens around my lower arm. “Nightmares’ teeth and claws can carry an array of poison.” He turns to Elio. “Send for the palace healer.”

Elio squints at the prince, his ice-blue gaze raising goosebumps on my skin. He’s not used to being ordered around in his own kingdom, but his look holds more curiosity than annoyance.

Sara hurries out of the room. “Right away.”

Seth’s fingers hover for a moment in the wake of Sara’s departure, then gently trace down the length of my arm. His gaze follows the silvery scars zigzagging across my skin. I’m covered in them, but they’re faint enough to escape most people’s scrutiny.

Very few people notice them—fewer still understand what they are.

Seth does.

I jerk back and cradle my arm against my chest. “You’re fussing.”

“Am not.”

“Are too.”

Elio links his long fingers in his lap, still observing us with his head cocked to the side.

It won’t be easy to sell him on this whole ‘engaged to my mortal enemy’ thing.

Maybe I shouldhave discussed an exception to the rules with Seth, so I could let Elio in on our secret, but before I can goad the Winter King into speaking his mind, Iris’s doppelg?nger enters the room.

I freeze, gobsmacked, as Elio leaps to greet her.

I’ve never seen him smile like that since he joined the Winter Court—or maybe ever.

He looks simply radiant as he slips his hand in hers and leads her over to me, eyes bright with excitement and pride, the happiest I’ve ever seen him.

“Lori, this is Devi Eros. Devi, this is my wife, Lori.”