Page 3 of The Crown of the Last Fae Queen (The Heartless and the Wicked #4)

Vidar continued to stare at her, as if he could peel back the layers of lies to reveal the truth beneath it all. “Hm.”

“Anyway, I know you need me.” She tapped her feet against the worn-out rug and picked at a speck of dirt beneath her cracked fingernails. Anything to keep her from squirming in her seat. “I know the wicked queen can only be unsealed by me.”

His wings twitched. “Hold your tongue when you speak of your mother.”

“She’s not my mother.”

“She went through an awful period to have you.” A heaviness stirred in the room and his dark mana thickened the air.

His wings spanned wider. The chairs screeched as he pushed them aside, and a final thrust of his wings sent them toppling over with a loud bang .

He rose to his feet swiftly; his entire presence filled the room and his wings made him appear more ominous, dwarfing everything around him.

“Vomiting at every second of the day. Dodging threats to her life. Forcing herself to carry a heavy crown in order to protect her people, her kingdom, and most notably”—he pointed at her—“ you .”

An awkward silence fell between them as they stared at one another.

Kolfinna’s throat closed up and she didn’t know what to say.

He sounded genuine, but it was impossible to think of the evil queen as her mother.

Not when she had lived her whole life thinking the fae queen and the war with the humans was akin to a fable or a twisted rendition of history.

She didn’t know this man who had captured her, nor her supposed mother.

But the thought that maybe her mother had cherished her created an uncomfortable pit in her stomach.

“You and many people who know nothing about Aesileif think that she was the monster, but it was I who carried her blade,” he continued with enough vitriol to burn her on the spot.

“My vengeance. My wrath. And my power is what made them fear our empire. Think of her as a wicked queen if you must, but she did everything in her power to protect her people and keep them safe from those miserable, treasonous humans.”

She chose to ignore his heated words.

She was sure that even the vilest of monsters would justify their actions.

“She’s not my mother.” Kolfinna’s words were barely a whisper, but he heard them.

She could tell by the flare of his nostrils.

The darkening of his eyes. But she continued quickly, heatedly, “I don’t know my mother, nor my father, nor anyone blood related to me.

The only person I ever had was my sister—and she’s gone too, dead like the rest of them.

I have no idea why I’m alive at this point in time, why my family unsealed me, or why I’m even in this mess to begin with.

I don’t know what sacrifices you or your wife made to have me.

You all are strangers in my life. If you want me to be …

be grateful or something, that’s not happening.

I know what’s right and I know what’s wrong, and you”—she motioned toward the wings and the black uniform, all of which looked like they were snatched from a nightmare—“are not the image of virtue. I saw you kill countless people. I saw the horrors you’re capable of.

Not to mention, you …” She bunched her hands together as she remembered how he had stood over Blár.

“You almost killed the man I love. You were planning on making him a mana slave. You want me to believe that you and your queen are anything but wicked? I have a hard time believing that.”

“You have childish expectations of me. I am not here to hold your hand and tell you fairytales, and neither are you. Do you think I’m foolish enough to fall for whatever reasoning you’re going with?

Or are you perhaps trying to fool yourself?

” The corner of his mouth rose and there was something otherworldly sinister about him in that second.

Something cold and unapologetic. The look of a man who had served as the fae queen’s commander-and-chief.

“I saw you kill several people too. Fae and elf alike. You were ruthless.”

She flinched back, her palms suddenly growing clammy.

“You are not as kindhearted as you make yourself out to be.” Vidar lowered himself back into his seat.

“We are at war with one another. Do not speak of goodness ,” he snarled the word like it was poison.

“If you are anything like me, then you will do whatever is in your power to protect those whom you love, even if it means becoming wicked.”

“Then you do understand why I’m loyal to the humans.”

“You love them?”

“No … Well—” Kolfinna couldn’t meet his incredulous expression. “I believe this is better for our race. For us to unite with the humans and to show them that we are good. That we don’t want to oppress one another?—”

“A very childish response.” He pursed his lips. The disappointment curdled the air. “Spoken like a child who has never seen true war.”

Embarrassment heated her cheeks and she leaned forward, hands cupped over her knees to keep from lashing out at him. “I’ve seen war. I’ve seen cruelty.”

“Clearly not enough of it.”

“What do you know about my life?” she snapped. “What do you know about what I’ve seen or haven’t seen? You weren’t even there for me! If you are my father, then why—” Her voice cracked and the back of her eyes suddenly burned with unshed tears. She blinked, unable to trust herself to speak.

She was angry, she realized. Angry and bitter for the life she could have had, the life she should have had.

If she truly had such powerful parents, then why was her life so difficult even now?

Why had she worked her whole life, fighting and struggling just to survive?

Why had she been forced to watch her sister’s brutal murder?

Why had she been so utterly alone for so many years?

If she truly was a lost princess, then why did she feel so unworthy?

It all sounded ridiculous.

How was she —an unimportant fae girl—a lost princess of a dead empire?

“You don’t know anything about me,” Kolfinna said, her anger fizzling as she realized it had no place here.

She didn’t know him and she didn’t plan on getting to know him.

In fact, she was his prisoner and simply a tool for him.

She couldn’t forget that. “Anyway, you, your armies, and Ragnarok are making things difficult for the fae race. You’re showing the humans just how true the tales of our heartlessness goes.

I’ve worked so, so hard to make myself appear normal to these humans.

For them to realize that we’re just like them …

and you’ve dashed those efforts! And in case I haven’t made it clear enough, I have no plans to join your forces and wake the queen. ”

She was sure that was the whole reason she was even in this conference room with him.

He probably wanted to discuss with her how they would unseal the evil queen.

But she wanted none of it. She already felt terrible that she was the cause of his legion of bloodthirsty warriors awakening in the first place; she didn’t need to add an epic war against the last fae queen on top of it all.

Vidar didn’t look too surprised. In fact, it appeared like he’d expected that answer from her.

He folded his arms onto the table and leaned forward.

The fire from the hearth cast an orange glow against his body, and yet the black scales of his armor appeared like chips of starless midnight.

A shimmery strand of white hair fell over his forehead.

He made no move to push it back in place.

“How is that working out for you?” His words came out quietly, but there was an unmistakable edge to them.

He leaned even closer, his gaze never straying from hers—and for some reason, she couldn’t look away.

“You want them to think you’re normal? What does that even mean, Kolfinna? You will never be one of them.”

Her lower lip wobbled. “I want to be accepted by them. To live in harmony. For neither to oppress the other.”

“And you think they will comply with that wish?”

She licked her lips unexpectedly. She hated how he was playing with her confidence. Making her uncertain. “Of … Of course.”

“I killed him, you know.” Vidar pointed to his wrist and then motioned to her own.

For a moment, she couldn’t breathe as a rush of coldness washed over her.

“The man who tethered you to him. Who made you his slave. Who … ordered you to kill yourself. I killed him.” He drummed a single finger on the tabletop where Rosain was drawn on the map.

Tap. Tap. Tap . “It sounds to me like you’re failing at your task of appearing normal to these humans.

You are nothing more than a willing, or unwilling”—he stared pointedly at her unmarked wrist—“tool for them. They will use you as a weapon and discard you once you’ve lost your usefulness. ”

“That’s not true,” she gritted out.

He reclined into his seat and watched her with an unreadable expression.

She wanted to cross the table and grasp him by the collar, to shout at him that her friends were different.

That Blár was different. But she was only reminded of the cruel treatment she had faced under the Royal Guards.

How she was seen as an outsider, how the people in the capital treated her like a monster, how Hilda had tortured her for no reason other than her being a fae.

It had been such a difficult past few months since she had revealed her true nature—truly an uphill battle—but she believed it was for the best. Even if it seemed like she was failing.

“I know you want me to free your queen.” Kolfinna lifted her chin.

She couldn’t show him how shaken up she was in front of him.

Her stomach twisted into knots. She hated the oppressive denseness of his mana that made it so hard to breathe.

She was valuable to him; she had to show that she wouldn’t fall so easily for whatever promises, or guilt, or plans he had in store for her. “I won’t do it.”

Vidar nodded slowly. “I assumed as much. Nothing will change your mind?”

“That’s right.”

“I understand.” He raised his hands and Kolfinna’s entire body stiffened. Was he going to blast her with his shadowy magic? Was he going to send beams of light to torch her body? But the attack she expected didn’t happen. Instead, he clapped his hands together. Loudly.

She only had to wait for ten or so seconds, the time stretching by slowly, until the door burst open and Rakel barreled inside, dragging a woman by the hair.

She flung her to the floor. The woman rolled on the rug, her fiery red hair streaked with grime and dried blood.

She coughed and pushed herself to her bloodied knees.

Shadowy wisps were bound around her wrists, similar to the magicked cuffs Blár had on before he escaped.

She raised her head and Kolfinna inhaled sharply.

Herja .