32
Over the next few weeks I didn’t hear any more about Drustan’s efforts to convince Selwyn to join him. The Fire prince did keep his promise, though. We met in our room every few days, and every time he made me burn.
The rest of my time was spent accompanying Lara to events and carrying out my normal duties. No one knew what the Blood trial would be, since there was no house head to direct the proceedings, so spying wouldn’t do me any good. The Blood Shard itself would somehow guide the candidates.
It gave me shivers to think about exactly how powerful the Shards must be. They were supposedly just cold stone infused with magic, but how could a magical stone grant visions? How could it run a trial? No wonder the Fae worshipped the Shards as if they were gods, the same way humans worshipped the Fae.
At night, during my stillest, darkest moments, I thought about Garrick. His murder had been justified, but I couldn’t forget how it had felt. The blade had slid into him so smoothly before I’d twisted it like some kind of torturer. I’d enjoyed it when he’d stared at me with such awful fear. I’d never seen that look in someone’s eyes before. It had made me feel powerful.
Caedo remained silent on those nights, letting me struggle with my guilt alone. It couldn’t feel guilt, I reminded myself when I grew bitter over the dagger’s continued silence. Whatever powered its strange consciousness felt no conflict and would gladly kill again.
In a way, my guilt made me feel better. I wasn’t a monster.
Soon the summer solstice arrived, the final holiday before the Blood trial. Mirrors had been hung in the hallways, reflecting the torchlight until every corridor gleamed as brilliantly as the midday sun. Mixed in with the mirrors were milky crystals and ropes of diamonds. The holiday was sacred to Light House, so the ceremony was held in their aboveground courtyard. It was sunny and warm, a perfect blue-vaulted summer day. The broken glass from the trial had been swept away, and the marble had been polished until it shone white as the clouds. A circle of enormous crystal standing stones ringed a marble block in the center.
I fetched wine for Lara and myself, and we drank together at the edge of the courtyard, watching the proceedings with interest. Lara had never been invited before, so she didn’t know what to expect, either.
The wine was nearly clear, tinged with the faintest hint of gold. I’d expected it to fill me with the fuzzy pleasure other Fae wines had, but instead it seemed to focus me. My vision sharpened and my heartbeats calmed, and rather than feeling arousal, as I had with Fire’s wine, or happiness, as I had with Earth’s, cold anger began building in my chest.
As the rest of the white-clad gathering drank, the smiles around me disappeared and talking dwindled to a minimum. By the time Prince Roland strode to the center of the circle of stones, the tension had escalated so much that a cold sweat broke out on my forehead.
“Welcome,” Roland said. He held a crystalline dagger in one hand. “The summer solstice, the longest day of the year, gives us the opportunity to cast light into the darkest corners. Only by facing our crimes can we be cleansed.”
That didn’t sound good.
King Osric watched from a throne at the edge of the courtyard, and his smile was even more unsettling than the tense frowns around me. He clapped his hands. “Let the punishments begin.”
I heard the distinctive clink of chains as a line of faeries began making their way through the crowd. They were led by a guard I remembered from previous executions, an enormous winged Underfae with milky eyes and smooth golden skin where his mouth should have been. He held one end of a long chain, and his other hand wielded an axe.
The mix of Underfae and human prisoners were clothed in gray rags. Their hands were cuffed to the chain, and they shuffled past with bowed heads. When the first prisoner reached the edge of the standing stones, the line stopped and the prisoners knelt. I flinched when the guard lifted his axe and brought it down on the length of chain separating the first prisoner from the second.
“Rise,” Roland commanded.
The prisoner staggered to her feet. She was human, with a gaunt frame and tangled brown hair that reminded me far too much of mine and my mother’s. She couldn’t have been more than sixteen years old, but she looked at Roland with deadened, world-weary eyes. Her torn rags revealed a back lined with scars.
“You are accused of attempting to escape from your duties. Do you wish to confess?” He must know the girl couldn’t speak. When she stayed silent, he snapped his fingers. “Very well.”
The guard shoved her to her knees before the marble block, and she rested her head on it. This time when the axe came down, her head tumbled after it.
I bit my lip, struggling not to cry out as blood dripped down the block and pooled beneath her limp body. Two Light sylphs with long fingers and filmy wings dragged the corpse away. A streak of red painted the ground behind them.
Something was wrong with my response to the execution. I knew it was terrible, but my emotions were muted; even my shock felt distant. Somehow the wine had separated me from my emotional core.
Roland snapped, and the guard released the second prisoner, a short Underfae. He was similar in appearance to Aidan, although his pitch-black skin and star-flecked eyes indicated he was a Void sprite.
“You are accused of stealing a jewel from a visiting faerie. Do you wish to confess?”
“I didn’t do it, my prince.” The words were faint, as if he himself no longer believed his protestations.
The guard shoved him to his knees before the block and forced his hand onto the stone. The sprite tried to jerk away, but a sylph pinned the arm down. The axe dropped, removing the sprite’s hand. He screamed as blood pumped from the stump.
I glanced towards the Void delegation, wondering how Kallen felt about one of his people being punished by Light House. He stared broodingly at the sprite as he was dragged away, looking calm enough—except for the hand clenched at his side. It was strange and somehow wrong to see him dressed in a cloud-white tunic. His night-dark hair and midnight eyes didn’t fit the attire, and I had the uneasy feeling of watching a predator dressed in the skin of some less dangerous animal.
The punishments and executions continued.
The criminals were thieves, runaways, and those who had disrespected the Noble Fae. Those heard speaking ill of the Noble Fae had their tongues removed with Roland’s crystal knife, and any caught trying to spy on a neighboring house had their eyes gouged out. Underfae healed better than humans, but the wounds were grievous; they would be maimed for the remainder of their lives. Soon the marble floor between the stones was covered in blood, but the punishments continued unabated.
The only break came an hour later, when everyone in attendance received another glass of wine. Every sip soothed and focused me until I could see the grain of the marble, the facets of the crystal knife, and every stray drop of blood. My sense of horror was even more removed, and for a while I watched the executions and mutilations with calm righteousness.
Yes, they deserved this punishment.
After the Underfae and humans were done, five Noble Fae prisoners were brought forward. I wondered if they were about to have parts removed, too. Even fully immortal Noble Fae weren’t able to regenerate pieces of themselves entirely; Lara had told me that if a limb was reattached, the wound could stitch itself together, but there would be no creating something from nothing.
Roland’s blade sparkled in the sunlight. A sneer touched his lips as the first Noble Fae lady was brought forward. “Nelda of Earth House, you are accused of speaking ill of King Osric. Do you wish to confess?”
Nelda shook her head.
I hadn’t seen her around Earth House before. Then again, there were many Noble Fae I had never met. I glanced at Lara. “Do you know her?”
“A minor noble. No one of import. Oriana will be furious, though.” Her voice was distant and unconcerned.
The guard led Nelda into the circle, but instead of pushing her to her knees, he left her standing before the altar. Both Roland and the guard retreated behind the stones. When Roland raised his arms, the crystals began to glow. He was channeling sunlight into them, and with every second that passed, the light intensified. Beams shot inward from each crystal, meeting in the center.
Nelda screamed.
The flash was blinding. When the sparks in my vision cleared, Nelda lay crumpled on the ground. An enormous, smoking hole had been burned all the way through her torso.
They dragged her corpse away, and the next Noble Fae was brought forward.
Each of them had spoken ill of the king. Each was executed in the same manner. Roland was demonstrating his magic for once, not just his martial skills.
The summer air smelled of copper and burning flesh. Everything about this was wrong, from Lara’s calm face to the blood soaking the courtyard, but even that awareness felt distant. A glass wall had been erected around my heart, and the part of me that wanted to scream and rage at the cruelty was trapped behind it.
I closed my eyes and took a deep breath in through my nose. Almost over. It was almost over.
The final faerie was led forward, and this one I recognized. It was the Fire lady who had been sitting in Drustan’s lap in the quartz room. Her burgundy hair was tangled, her skin was streaked with dirt and sweat, and she was crying.
“Edlyn of Fire House, you are accused of plotting against the king and encouraging rebellion.”
Murmurs rose from the watching Fae, but Drustan seemed unconcerned, his muscled arms crossed over his simple white tunic.
“Do you wish to confess?” Roland asked.
“Yes.” Edlyn fell to her knees. “Please, I beg you. I didn’t know…”
“Didn’t know what?”
“Will you spare me if I tell you the truth?” She directed the question to King Osric.
“That depends on what you say.”
Edlyn glanced at Drustan guiltily. “The Fire prince commanded me to talk to the Illusion ladies. I had no choice.”
The murmurs increased. Drustan cocked an eyebrow, looking distantly amused.
Alarm stirred in my chest, rattling the bars of the cage that held my emotions prisoner. It would be fine, I told myself. Drustan was a prince, and it would be his word against Edlyn’s.
The fear didn’t leave, though. It swelled until my composure began to crack and the horror of the situation trickled back in. My skin felt clammy and cold despite the warmth of the day. The spilled blood looked so very red in the sunshine—a greedy sea of death, and the tide was still coming in.
“Why did he tell you to do that?” Roland asked Edlyn, sending Drustan a hard look.
“He said we needed to know how loyal the king’s house was, and if any of them seemed inclined to rebel.”
“When did this conversation with Drustan occur?”
“The day after the Earth trial concluded, near the quartz room.” She clasped her hands at her chest. “Please, your majesty. I had no choice.”
“It would seem not,” Osric said. There was a long pause as Edlyn’s shoulders slumped in relief. “Of course, that is the response of a coward. You could have chosen to inform me of Prince Drustan’s commands before carrying them out.”
Edlyn started crying again. “He’s my prince.”
“And I am your king . Your loyalty is to me above all.” Osric drummed his fingers on the arms of his chair. “Let us test the truth of your story.” He motioned to Roland, who faced the Fire nobles.
“Prince Drustan of Fire House,” Roland said. “You are accused of plotting against the king and encouraging rebellion.”
Panic finally broke through the glass wall raised by the wine, and my callousness shattered with it. I watched, hands twisting in my skirts, as Drustan walked to the center of the stones to stand beside Edlyn, who still knelt in supplication. He was wearing a rapier with a golden hilt that sparked like flame in the sunshine, and my heart hammered as he unbuckled the sword belt and laid it on the ground. A gesture of surrender? Then he straightened and held out his arms as he faced the throne. “Is this how a prince is treated, your majesty? Subject to judgment on the word of an insignificant noblewoman?”
“It is damning testimony,” Osric said, narrowing his eyes. There was a shimmering around him, an eerie warping of the air above his tapping fingers. “What reason would she have to lie?”
“She’s a coward who’s afraid for her life.” The words cracked through the air like a whip, and Edlyn flinched. “As to why she would try to implicate me specifically,” Drustan continued, casting her a scornful look, “I presume it’s because I haven’t visited her bed recently. She’s been feeling slighted.”
Edlyn was his lover?
“No,” she whimpered. “You told me to do it.”
Drustan ignored her, returning his focus to Prince Roland and King Osric.
“She told us when and where you spoke.” Roland clearly doubted Drustan’s explanation.
“She lied. I was never alone with her. Lady Gweneira of Light House was there at the time and can attest to this, and my servants can attest to my whereabouts before and after that meeting.”
The Light lady he’d flirted with that day stepped forward. She was serenely beautiful, with a willowy frame and brown hair cut close to her scalp—an unusually short hairstyle for the Fae, but one that suited her. Her posture was impeccable as she curtsied low before the king. “It’s true, my king. I was there. We spoke only of the trials and the latest fashions.”
Roland and Osric looked taken aback by the testimony from the Light lady, but the sound of her voice was familiar. At last I knew who the third conspirator had been in the library that day. Lady Gweneira of Light House was working with Drustan and Lothar.
Edlyn looked between Drustan and Gweneira in disbelief. “She’s lying!”
“Silence,” Roland commanded. He looked at Osric, and for once he seemed troubled. “Lady Gweneira is my cousin,” he told the king. “Her reputation is impeccable, and she has never lied to me.”
Oh, if only he knew.
Gweneira lowered her lashes coyly. “Thank you, cousin. You should also know that Lady Edlyn has a reputation among the ladies for being…unstable.” With that damning testimony, she returned to her position in the crowd.
“You bitch!” Edlyn screamed after her. Roland cuffed her, knocking her fully to the ground. Blood trickled from a cut on her temple.
Roland resumed questioning Drustan, although there was doubt on his face. “Even if she’s lying about the conversation, why would she have plotted against the king without your approval?”
Drustan shrugged. “Because she’s a fool? Because she dislikes being a minor lady and craves more power? Who can understand the motivations of criminals?”
“She’s one of your nobles. You are responsible for her crimes.”
“Am I responsible for every female who makes an unwise choice out of jealousy?”
The callous words made me stiffen. At his feet, Edlyn began crying louder. I shoved away my pity for her. She had brought this on herself by betraying the rebellion.
“I’ve been fucking someone else recently,” Drustan continued, “and Edlyn didn’t enjoy second place. I’m not surprised she lashed out. She’s always been insecure.”
My stomach churned. That was me he was speaking so coldly of fucking .
Only one faerie glanced at me, and this one had a trace of pity in his expression. Kallen. I shouldn’t have been surprised that he knew. I met his eyes, forcing myself to look indifferent.
He looked away.
Drustan had to act like this, I told myself. He was in danger of losing his life and the future of his entire cause. He had to play the bored prince, the kind of person who would sleep with Edlyn and then insult her while she wept at his feet, who would move from lover to lover with no thought for their feelings. Better that than for Osric to see what he truly was.
“Edlyn is known for being overly emotional, your majesty.” The voice came, surprisingly, from Edric. The Fire candidate stepped forward and bowed. “No one in Fire House would be surprised to hear that she betrayed Drustan out of spite.”
“She betrayed me ,” King Osric said.
“I did not mean to give offense, my king. She betrayed you first and Drustan second when she tried to implicate him in her crimes. I would pledge my very life on Drustan’s loyalty and honor. He would not have done this.” Other Fire faeries murmured agreement.
Roland and Osric were wavering in the face of so much opposition. “Very well,” Osric finally said. “Prince Drustan, the accusation is rescinded. For now.”
I exhaled in relief as Drustan bowed. “I live to serve you, my king.” He picked up his sword and strode out of the killing circle.
He didn’t glance back at Edlyn, not even when Osric motioned for Roland to execute her. She screamed, and when the flash of light faded, she lay with a hole in her chest, her empty eyes staring after the Fire prince.
We were forced to remain in the courtyard after Drustan’s pardon, drinking wine—normal red wine this time—and casually conversing as if we weren’t all standing in a lake of blood. By the time Lara and I were able to slip away just before sunset, the hem of my white skirt was stained crimson.
Lara went straight home, but I was too restless and angry to follow. I paced the hallways in my blood-stiffened dress, clenching my fists so hard my bones hurt.
Perhaps I was hoping Drustan would find me.
The fifth time I passed the ramp that led to Fire House, he was there, leaning against the wall. He hadn’t removed his solstice clothes, and his red hair was stark against the snowy cloth. He held out his hand, and despite my anger and hurt, I took it.
Once in our warded room, we separated. He paced to the desk, and I sank onto the couch.
“I regret that you had to see that.” He poured two glasses of wine from a decanter he found in a drawer, and I took mine in silence. “You have to understand…”
“What?” The wine was a welcome warmth in my throat. It was tempting to drain the glass and ask for another, but no. Dulling this moment would be running from it, and I’d drunk enough that day.
“I have been planning this rebellion for decades ,” Drustan said. Flame crackled at his fingers. “Decades of alliances and research and plotting, and then to have it undone in the final weeks by one of my allies…” He shook his head, and the flame vanished. “I had to say whatever would convince them to look away from me.”
“I do understand.” I played with the folds of my gown, wincing as the stiff hem scraped against my blood-crusted slippers. “But Edlyn…You mocked her. You said she was jealous and overly emotional.”
Like me.
Drustan didn’t seem to register the parallels. He shrugged. “She was. We used to sleep together; that part was true. She didn’t appreciate my neglect.”
I bit my lip. “The things you said about her were cruel.” I could still hear her crying and that last, horrible scream.
“What she did was worse.” He sank to his knees in front of me, eyes and voice growing fervent. “Kenna, this rebellion carries the hopes of thousands. She would have ruined it to save her own life. She would have condemned us all to death.” He tucked a piece of hair behind my ear. “I’m not afraid to die for this. No one who works with me closely is. But I refuse to die before I’ve had a chance to make a difference.”
I nodded, my eyes burning.
He kissed me softly. “You’re braver than Edlyn ever was,” he murmured against my lips.
I frowned. “That’s not what—”
But he was kissing me hungrily, and I succumbed to the pleasure, as I always did. I gripped his shoulders, pulling him between my legs, wrapping my limbs around him as if I could make him part of me, as if I could keep him safe with nothing but my own flesh.
Later, while he moved within me, while I clawed his back and cried out in pleasure, I let myself imagine it. Just him and me, safe and healthy, living proudly together in a world no longer ruled by King Osric.
That was worth any sacrifice.