Page 55 of The Crown of a Fallen Queen (Curse of the Fae #4)
“It depends. Are you ready to join the Tides?” Luther says, the half-smile on his face leaving me in doubt as to whether this is just a joke between them or a real threat.
“The only thing I feel ready for at the moment is a long, long rest.”
Luther squeezes Seth’s upper arm in a soothing, brotherly manner. “That’ll do for now.”
Willow’s gaze falls to the burial shroud still tucked in my grip. “Oh no.” She sucks in air, her face slowly decomposing. “Is that Percy?”
I give her a reluctant nod.
In that brief flash of grief, I glimpse at the girl I used to know.
“How did it happen?”
“Alaric Rayne is dead. The Seven Crowns sent me to kill the new Storm King in exchange for ending my banishment. I never should have agreed.”
“You’ve done us a favor, then.” She rests a hand on my shoulder. “I’m sorry this happened to you, my old friend. You, of all people, deserve better than to bury a part of your soul.”
Luther’s expression grows somber, and he offers me a respectful bow. “I’m sorry for your loss. After you’re rested, we’ll hold a vala for the fallen warrior.”
Vala . As in, a wake. My heart hammers.
Willow ushers me forward. “Come on. Let’s clean you up, first.”
She sends the boys away and takes me to her private quarters. Her bedroom is situated in front of the king’s, but it looks like it had been empty before their arrival, so it was probably the late queen’s apartments.
She skips over to the copper tub in the back of the room and twists open the water spout.
“I knew the destruction of the Chalice would facilitate your return. Freya is vulnerable now. I’m glad you came to me.
” She watches me from the corner of her eyes, the way you would a frightened golden-horned deer during a royal hunt.
I clear my throat, still holding on to Percy. “From what I’ve heard, you tried to kill all the kings and queens of Faerie—and nearly succeeded.”
“A necessary evil.” She slips out of her uniform and changes into a form-fitting tan leotard.
The stiffness in my spine doesn’t relent. “It was a necessary evil to try and kill my brother? And yours?”
“Elio wasn’t my target. I never expected him to die with the others. And Aidan wasn’t supposed to be there.” She clicks her fingers, and a strong fire appears in the hearth.
I look out the small, vertical window.
The fortress defies gravity, its battlements built right at the edge of the continent.
At Storm’s End, literally. While Deiltine was mostly hidden inside the cliffs, this place rises in a series of skewed, uneven towers reaching toward the sky—the highest of which we’re occupying.
The last glimmers of dawn burn in the east in bright shades of purple, orange, and pink.
I press my lips together. “You still went on with your plan and almost killed them both.”
“I had to. I’d been waiting for a chance to melt that dreaded Chalice for decades.”
“And Damian?”
“I never much cared for that crow, but the target was always the Eternal Chalice. And in that, I succeeded.” Willow pats my arm with one hand and gently tugs on Percy’s shroud with the other. “You should get in the water while it’s warm.”
I don’t want to let him go. But no amount of blood or grime will bring him back, so I tuck him safely on the nearby table and begin to undress. The wound the cupids carved into my back is still oozing, and Willow steps forward.
“Here, let me.”
She heals the fresh gashes, leaving me dressed in nothing but my old scars.
“You’ve become quite the healer since I last saw you,” I remark, grateful for the ease of movement.
“The jewels are limitless. I could teach you how to use them.”
To everyone else, Willow is the big, bad rebel. The new, unlikely leader of a centuries-old cult responsible for countless uprisings. A threat. A symbol of a faction of Fae most royals would rather exterminate.
But to me, she’s just Will.
The girl who had a crush on me for ages before she finally became my friend. The sister I never had. The broken woman I helped to fake her own death, the one I sheltered in my rowan house while she patched herself back together.
There’s been many, many evenings like this, spent between a bottle of wine and a steaming tub.
I sink into the warm water, trying to see past my grief and exhaustion—to her heart.
The last time I looked, it was a dark and frightening place.
Now, it’s hidden beneath a cluster of gems. Emeralds, onyxes, amethysts, rubies, opals, diamonds, and garnets shimmer against her skin, each one drawing power from a different realm, a different school of magic.
I’m vulnerable. And part of me wants nothing more than to let bygones be bygones—to call her a friend again, to cling to the last scraps of familiarity in a world that offers less and less of it. But I can’t forget she set a plan in motion that killed her own mother. She tipped Faerie into chaos.
I have to keep a cool head.
“Your Luther tried to kill Elio twice. Wasn’t he acting on your orders?” I ask.
She joins me by the tub and dips a hand into the water. “Luther is a good soldier, but he’s young. He’s got a skewed, somewhat romantic view of the future. He thinks he can save the world from many ailments, including grief.”
“But you don’t approve?” I press her.
“A world without pain is impossible. I think we both know that.”
A heavy sigh whizzes through my lungs. “Aidan wants you back.”
“Aidan wants his Willow back, but she’s gone.
” Willow wets a piece of cloth and uses it to wash my back, wiping the last remnants of the attack from my skin.
“Even if he was manipulated and brainwashed by our parents, he still stood by while that monster of a king used and abused me. I resent him for it.”
“I don’t blame you.”
She braces her chin over the copper rim of the tub and draws absent-minded patterns in the water near my feet.
“Freya will eventually succumb to the wounds she suffered in the attack, so once Ethan is neutralized and killed, only the Red Queen will need a good spanking. After that, the new order of things can finally prevail.”
“What about Alaric Rayne? Was he part of your new order?” The water sloshes around me as I bend forward to hold my knees. “With the Chalice gone, anyone can be chosen—even the most devious psychos.”
“The Chalice never kept psychos from the throne. Alaric would’ve been neutralized within days, had you not intervened.
We were preparing to sail to Deiltine. Destroying the Chalice was only the first step.
The seven crowns were holding an entire realm’s magic in it, preventing its people from rebuilding, forcing them to stay in hiding. That’s not right.”
For a moment, it feels like we’re two best friends at a sleepover, gossiping about boys and planning our futures.
Before her marriage, she was a fierce Summer Fae—sun-bright and clever, always busy planning a secret get-together or a grand, public gala.
But after she wed Ezra, she absorbed something of him.
His light. His lure. His cunning. That maddening quality that made him seem dangerously approachable. Sweet, yet lethal.
From that day on, she carried it too—that same glittering charm. That quiet, compelling power to make me feel like I was her one true friend. Like everyone else either didn’t matter…or answered only to us.
Like I was the most badass Fae in all the worlds.
The rubies on her knuckles shine under the firelight as she unravels my braids. She cleans my hair, threading her delicate fingers through to massage my scalp and style my red mane into soft, smooth curls.
“What I want is a Faerie government that exists independently of the crowns. Using the Mist Jewels, the Tidecallers can hold royals accountable for their crimes or inadequacies,” she says.
“You have that power?”
She holds out a clean towel. “I’ve taken on all the kings and queens of Faerie at once. I could easily kick your ass.”
I step out of the tub. “Could you take on the new Mist King, too?”
“Yes.” She punctuates the statement with a wink. “I’ll have rooms prepared for you and Seth, and we’ll discuss the next steps in the morning.”
I couldn’t bear to be alone tonight, and my eyes dart down. “One room will suffice.”
Embers flicker in her gaze. “Ooh, I thought I got a vibe, earlier. Good for you. Well, good for Seth, really. You’re the catch of the century.”
I raise my brow, feigning to be offended. “Century only?” I tease.
She laughs and pinches my arm. “Oh, I’ve missed you, sister. I want you by my side, and Luther… He still hopes his brother will come around. If you found each other on your own, maybe we’re finally getting what we wished for. Like it was written in the stars.”
“The stars can be deceiving,” I murmur.
“But they light the way,” she says with a wistful smile. “Always.”