Page 61 of The Crown of the Last Fae Queen (The Heartless and the Wicked #4)

“What happened—” A blast of water shot toward them, and Vidar threw up a shadowy shield that captured the attack.

He unhooked a dagger from his thigh and launched it at the furthest guard, while slamming the rest with thin arrows of light.

Kolfinna’s own light magic singed her fingertips and she trained them on the closest guard, but he, along with half of the guards fell to the floor, screaming before she could attack.

Vidar’s shadows swallowed them up, then spat them out.

Their bodies were covered in purplish, inky stains, and their eyes stared lifelessly ahead.

The others quickly died by his light magic.

As they moved through the hallway—the same halls she had once walked through while wearing the same scarlet and silver uniform—more Royal Guards attacked them. Kolfinna didn’t want to fight them, but her body moved on its own.

Left hook, kick, stone magic to the gut, duck, repeat.

She moved quickly, keeping an eye on Aslaug and Vidar the entire time.

Her father moved with lethal ease, wiping the floor with the guards.

She didn’t kill any of the ones she fought, choosing instead to render them unconscious.

But Vidar had no such reservations. His light magic blasted off chunks of flesh.

His shadows ripped limbs apart. And his stone magic crushed bones.

It was grisly to see the corpses trailing behind them.

Through it all, a singular question kept repeating itself.

Was this the right decision?

Was allowing Vidar to attack and potentially kill King Leiknir the right thing to do?

She could tell herself that she wasn’t participating in the attack, since she wasn’t killing anyone, but she was only tricking her mind.

She knew that very well. She wouldn’t be the one to kill the king, but she wouldn’t do anything to stop it.

Would the humans ever forgive her for her actions here? Even if she was defending herself? This was all necessary to free Aesileif … but was this the right decision?

“Die, fae scum!” one of the soldiers roared, his sword glinting in the morning light filtering through the rows of windows lining one wall.

Kolfinna ducked just in time while Vidar’s shadows tore the weapon away from the man’s hand.

It clattered on the marble floors beside the dead bodies of his comrades.

The man unsheathed a short knife from his waist and screamed another battle cry as he raced toward them, but Vidar’s shadows shoved him to the wall and pinned him in place.

“Where is your king?” her father asked smoothly.

The shadows writhed along the guard’s face, spreading like spider webs across his pale flesh. The veins along the man’s neck stood out vividly as he strained to escape. “You will die for what you’ve done here!” the Royal Guard hissed, his gaze flicking over to Kolfinna. “All of you.”

A sickening crack resounded in the hall, followed by the sound of his body collapsing.

Vidar didn’t so much as give the man a second glance as he continued his trek.

Kolfinna hesitated, her gaze flicking from her father’s retreating frame to the Royal Guard.

He was probably a few years older than her, but he looked younger in death, with his green eyes now glassy.

He’d probably had a family to go home to.

A mother who was waiting for him. A father who was proud of his accomplishments as a guard. Siblings. Maybe a lover.

A shiver ran down her spine and she forced herself to look away. She tamped down the uncomfortable feelings clawing up her throat.

The fae had family, too. They had people to go home to as well. They had dreams. Aspirations. Lovers. Hope. Lives .

And these people wouldn’t hesitate to steal that away.

She had to remind herself of that fact—that the humans weren’t so innocent. It was the only way she could continue to walk behind Vidar.

Within minutes they entered a lower level of the palace.

A winding, dark, cobbled hallway lead them deeper into the secret routes known only to royalty.

Light blistered from Vidar’s palm, shining against the dewy, mossy walls.

Kolfinna’s heart was stuck in her throat the entire time.

She didn’t know what expression to make when Fenris inevitably saw her.

The tunnels splintered out into different paths and Vidar paused.

“Which one would he have chosen?” he asked.

Aslaug didn’t even hesitate as she pointed to the one on the right. “Your general said he was heading to the north tunnel. He’s probably trying to go through the path that leads to the outer city. The other tunnels lead to the inner city.”

Vidar touched the wall and Kolfinna got the sense that he was mapping out the stone pathways, searching for blocked paths, dead ends, and maybe even the pulse of mana from his own men. She had done something similar when she was in the military and trapped in the underground goblin caves.

“It seems you are telling the truth.” He gave a stiff nod and they headed in the direction she had motioned to.

“I wouldn’t lie.” Aslaug’s voice came out clipped. “I’ve told you everything I know. Trust me when I say that there is no one in this world who wants him dead more than me.”

An uneasiness wedged itself deep in Kolfinna’s chest. “Why?”

The older woman’s mouth flattened into a straight line.

The shadows of the hall curled over the planes of her face.

“I chose to leave the palace life behind and chose to live peacefully as a commoner. But he couldn’t stand that I denied my royal lineage; that I raised my children as commoners.

Or … I’m not even sure why it bothered him.

But he killed my son who was training in the military, and then sent his Royal Guards to my house, killed my children and my husband in front of me, and then the wretched man locked me away for years.

He told me he couldn’t kill me because he loved me,” she scoffed.

“ How could he kill his precious sister ? Hah!” She laughed bitterly, and even in the darkness Kolfinna could see the glistening in her eyes.

“He would rather rip my heart to shreds and destroy me than kill me. He did worse than killing me. No … Killing me would have been a mercy, but he couldn’t even give me that.

So that , Princess Kolfinna, is why I hate my brother and why I wish him dead.

Any mother in my place would do the same. ”

Everything fell into place and Kolfinna’s breath caught in her throat.

The murder of Aslaug’s family. The fact that she’d been spared. Blár’s name written in her journal.

Aslaug was Blár’s mother .

She halted in her steps as the realization struck her. She had been so caught up with her own problems—being imprisoned, her moral dilemma, her father—that she hadn’t given Aslaug’s much thought. It was so, so obvious that she wanted to smack herself for not catching on sooner.

Blár’s mother was right here. She wasn’t dead like Blár had feared when he hadn’t found her in all these years. She was living, breathing, and by the sounds of it, she didn’t even know Blár was alive—she thought he had been killed just like his siblings. Leiknir must have lied to her.

“Aslaug.” Kolfinna reached for the older woman’s arm, but a powerful gust of wind ripped through her hair in that moment, shoving them both a few feet backwards. Vidar stood his ground as a flood of Royal Guards surrounded them.

“Protect the king!” one of the guards shouted.

The hallway was cramped, but Kolfinna could see King Leiknir in the far distance, scurrying away with the dim light bouncing off the crooked gold crown on his head.

He glanced over his shoulders at them, eyes wide and fearful.

An expression she had never seen on him, but one he had likely seen many, many times on the faces of the fae he’d condemned. And, likely, his own family.

The thought fueled her hatred, because this man had killed Blár’s family.

His siblings. His father. His hope.

“Leiknir!” Kolfinna shouted, light springing up in one of her hands and shadows raging in the other.

They burst from her easily, her animosity powering her.

All of her indecisions disappeared at the sight of the king’s face.

Because this was the man who had brutally and mercilessly killed Blár’s family.

Who had haunted his dreams. Who stole his peace.

And there was no way she was going to let him go free. Not after what he had done.

She attacked the nearest man. Her light blasted him and he slammed into the damp wall of tunnel, his body crumpling to the ground easily. She moved to the next and tried to fight her way through the throng of people.

Meanwhile, fire blasted toward them from one of the guards, but Vidar easily flung the man into the wall with his shadows.

Kolfinna tore the stones from the floor and chucked them at the incoming flood of guards, crashing into their chests with precision.

She ducked from a wayward ice attack and shot arrows made of light at the men, piercing their legs and immobilizing them.

She moved fluidly, without thought and without remorse.

Her body remembered how to fight and she relied on her instincts, because her attention was mostly focused on Leiknir and how he was cowardly running deeper into the tunnels.

It was clear that Fenris wasn’t here, but it made her wonder—where was the Captain of the Royal Guards?

Was he fighting the fae outside? She could only hope that was the answer.