Page 34

The Prince

B etween two sword strikes I realize I’d rather face all the torments of Atos’s hell pits and laugh at all the inventive torture methods of his demons than lose her again. Seelie or not.

Seelie or not, she’s the light of my darkness, the moon of my night, and the thought of seeing her body, headless and limp like Aernysse’s, is simply unbearable.

So, I gladly ripped my chest open, took my heart out, and placed it in her palms. Now, she’s free to take it wherever she wishes.

For me, there’s only one hope left, that we’d meet in another life, as Seuta promises to souls that are bound. Because after this bracelet cracked, so did the wall between us.

We’re connected. We’re mates, bound to search for each other and breathe for each other in all lifetimes. Too bad the cruel gods made us implacable enemies, and for that, I’ll curse them to the end of my days.

I look around as if awakening from a dream. Hordes are ravaging the streets, killing everything in their path. Shadowfeeders spawn in the dark alleys.

It’s time to wipe that stupid grin off my face and save my city.

The halo flickers above me and springs back to life, just as I ordered it, confusing the enemy and herding it into dark corners.

I bark orders to my knights, and we go hunting the dark ones.

*

The pavement is still slippery with blood, and mourning cries echo from each and every corner, but there is no time to lose.

My coronation is not a celebration. It’s a funeral feast.

I enter the throne room, followed closely by my men. Mourning red silk sheets drape the black walls, the lights in the halls dimmed so the souls of the dead find their way to Atos’s Underworld and not get lured back to our world by the light. The priests and priestesses, clad in gold and red, await me at the feet of Father’s throne.

Chiron, the High Priest of the Five, nods at me solemnly when he sees me approach. My eyes are fixed on the tall, spired crown lying on a crimson pillow. Red is everywhere around me in these days. The priests wince when I loom over them, but Chiron greets me without faltering. He was Aernysse’s enemy, and I’ve done him a great service tonight.

The holy people chant their prayers and throw more incense in the burners around.

I have no time for this nonsense.

I grab the crown from the pillow, my hands still smeared with Tainted blood. Without waiting for Chiron to finish the blessings, I place it over my head and immediately feel the weight of it. Forged by star metal, encrusted with crystals from the throne of Atos himself, it’s loaded with memories of triumph and suffering. I climb the steps to the throne and sit down without hesitation.

“Chiron.” The old priest startles, still mumbling prayers and blessings.

“Yes, my lord,” he says, avoiding to look me in the eye.

“Can you read the Elders’ tongue?”

He nods.

“Then tell me what this means.” In my haste, I summon the Shadow blade as a dagger and quickly carve the symbols in the flesh of my forearm. An exact copy of how mine and Talysse’s Ancestral Marks would look side by side. I know that the complete symbol on my shoulder stands for Unseelie—my people, and hers—for Seelie. But together with the symbol below, it didn’t form a coherent phrase. It was the beginning of something about the Hex, but cut in half, and nobody could figure them out. But now they appear complete when the two marks are brought together.

“The Sacred tongue uses single symbols to convey complex meanings.” The old Fae is studying my carved flesh, unbothered by the ruby drops dripping on the throne’s armrests. This cursed chair had been washed in blood many times and had witnessed more than one royal head rolling down the steep carpeted stairs.

“I am not here for a lecture, priest,” I growl, my impatience growing. Whatever secret our skins are about the reveal, I know it is of utter importance for my goal.

“This part says Unseelie.” His crooked finger taps on my part of the Mark, something I know very well, and I pinch the bridge of my nose. Elders help me so that I don’t slit his throat in my fury. “And this stands for Seelie,” he concludes, and I am already raising my blade.

“Have you seen what happened to Aernysse?” I ask, and he pales. “Then be quick and tell me what the rest stands for. And make sure you tell the truth if you don’t want to enter Atos’s Underworld in pieces. Tiny pieces.”

“When brought together, the last two symbols mean—forgive me, Your Majesty—the first one stands without a doubt about the end of the Hex, and the last one could be interpreted as a union.” I glare at him, and his throat bobs under the parchment-like skin.

“Unseelie and Seelie are to end the Hex with a union—” he squeaks.

“What in the name of the Five means that? Does it mean I have to sign a trading agreement with the remaining Seelie? Because, like we’ve been shown in the last days, it seems to be more of them than we thought,” I ask bitterly.

“Union can be interpreted as in matrimony, Your Majesty. And Unseelie and Seelie can refer to the royal bloodlines, not the whole kind.”

“Matrimony like…marriage?” I ask, dumbfounded. I lack the sophisticated education of his kind, and if he’s mistaken, I will crush every single bone in his body. Will make it heal and then do it again.

“Unseelie and Seelie…to end the Hex through union,” Chiron stammers, his voice trembling. “A union by matrimony, Your Majesty, witnessed by the Five.”

I shoot to my feet, my fingers closing around his throat.

“Are you sure of what you’re telling me?” I rasp, lifting him. His feet dangle beneath his golden-red robes, and his slipper lands at the feet of the throne.

“I...I swear in my life, Your Majesty. Ask anyone proficient in the sacred tongue, and they’ll confirm. It’s clear as daylight.”

I stagger back onto the throne, releasing the old priest, who rolls down in a mess of gold, crimson, and confusion.

The Hex can be lifted when the two royal bloodlines are united. By marriage.

My roaring laughter, so unfitting of all the death around, startles my knights, the priests, and all the courtiers who gathered to witness the ceremony. Surely, they think me mad.

But I don’t care.

I have a bride to catch.