“As you wish.” Malachi heard the disapproval in Nychelle’s tone, but she wasn’t about to argue with him when she’d finally gotten what she wanted.
“Since we’re having this impromptu family meeting, I have something to place on the agenda for discussion,” he said to his auntie and cousin who, along with his Cadre, acted as his sole inner council. Given his nobles’ low estimation of him, Malachi didn’t trust anyone else at court to get so close. His auntie might be resistant to what he’d reveal at first, but since Malachi had just bent for her, this was the perfect time to bring it up and get a little give and take.
“I plan to assassinate the Hyperion king, the Aether king, their kinsfolk, and high-ranking nobles tomorrow at the Hyperion king’s wedding to the Aether Court’s archprincess.”
Trystin stared at him, clearly unsure what to say, while his auntie just as clearly knew exactly what she wanted to say.
“I’ve already sent a scouting party ahead,” he said, cutting off what he guessed would be Nychelle’s first argument against it. “I’m taking my Cadre, and we’ll get it done. This isn’t a hasty attack. I have been meticulously planning this strike for months. More, this isn’t simply about revenge. This is about securing our court’s sovereignty. The high clerics of the Six Kingdoms peddle their own bloody, pain-in-the-ass prophecies, and while I don’t believe in the damn things, I also won’t take any chances. If the Hyperion king marries the Aether archprincess, it’ll only galvanize the Cleric’s Rebellion to once again try to lay the Apollyon Court at the feet of an outsider king.”
Auntie Nychelle held up a hand. “I know of Rishaud and the fanaticism he uses to sway the idiots within this court and thoseon the other side of the Yunna Mountains. My question to you, nephew,” she asked in a measured fashion that meant she was weighing how furious to be, “is why am I only now hearing of this plan of yours?”
“Because I knew you’d try to talk me out of it,” Malachi answered truthfully. And the woman had enough of his affection that she was successful at just about anything where he was concerned when she truly set her mind to it. This, he hadn’t wanted to be convinced to not attempt. He’d held off on this strike at the heart of the Six Kingdoms for nearly twenty years. Even as a boy, he’d wanted to rend the Six Kingdoms apart for their hand in murdering his parents. It was beyond time.
“Yes, it incites a war,” Malachi said, heading off Nychelle’s likely second counterpoint. “But war will come soon anyway if that wedding is allowed to occur. And as you said, you know me. This will be a war I can win if it comes now or later. So what does an expedited timeline matter? I’m not the king my father was, nor is the Apollyon Court the weak shell of itself it was two decades ago that allowed our royals to be assassinated.” That last part was a direct compliment to his auntie. One of the reasons Malachi adored and trusted Nychelle implicitly was because the woman was shrewd, forward-thinking, and fierce. She’d single-handedly held the nobles’ fears in check so they wouldn’t do something stupid like bow to the Six Kingdoms or that damnable false prophecy after his father was murdered. And she’d done so by guiding the court into a golden age of economic prosperity and military strength. She’d done half the job required to secure the eternal protection of their court and avenge her sister and brother-in-law. Now that she’d handed Malachi the throne, he’d do the rest to continue proving the old cleric a liar. Malachi wouldn’t ruin the Apollyon Court; rather,he’d decimate their enemies and extend their golden age into one that was free of external threats, the looming possibility of all-out war, and the constant skirmishes that claimed precious Apollyon lives.
He expressed the rest of this thinking to Nychelle before she could get worked up. Still, he expected her to lend some counterargument as to why it wasn’t a good idea. His auntie tended to lean toward the diplomatic, peaceful approach in most things if it was at all possible. However, Nychelle simply asked, “Are you sure of this course, nephew?”
“I am,” Malachi answered immovably.
She leveled a hard gaze on him. “You are king of the Apollyon fae, and I am no longer queen regent, so this is your decision. But be clear, nephew: You had better return to me in one piece. Understood? And be prepared for the backlash should you not be successful, for it will be more brutal and greater than if you are.”
Malachi chuckled. “Nothing will harm me, and I won’t be anything except victorious,” he promised Nychelle.
She inclined her head toward the dressing room that was through a door to the right beside the bathing room. “Go get dressed. Then tell me of these plans in detail, and I’ll advise if there’s any chinks.”
“I don’t enjoy being given such short notice to work my juju,” Trystin drawled, “but I’ll lend my expertise about what spellwork might best help accomplish what you’ve concocted, which I’m sure amounts to barreling into that wedding and committing slaughter on sight.”
Malachi rolled his eyes—as nuanced as his plan was, it did pretty much amount to that—but simply said, “Thank you, cousin. I appreciate it.”
Trystin nodded. “I don’t doubt that you’ll be successful, but I think Ma is wrong. A victory doesn’t lessen the blowback. If you massacre two kings and their courts, the remaining four courts will come for ours in force. Taking the Hyperion and Aether kings out of the equation doesn’t lessen the threat of the Wind, Stone, Water, and Fire Courts, which are all mighty in their own right. Yes, Ma has greatly strengthened our court, but we’ll be fighting four against one.” Trystin swept a gaze between Malachi and Nychelle. “But you two know that as much as I do. What am I not seeing that you both clearly are?”
“It’s a good assessment, son,” Nychelle said. “But you’re overestimating how much esteem these courts hold for Rishaud. So the idea that they’d unite is true, but for how long?” she asked, now grinning like a demoness.
Malachi grinned as well. Of course Nychelle understood that which he hadn’t spoken. She was a practical woman, but also cunning and calculating. He’d learned everything he now was from his auntie. “Even if they do work together for a time, the remaining four courts won’t be allowed to wage a retaliatory war for long,” Malachi said to Trystin. “Their economies won’t tolerate it.”
“What do you mean?”
“With the Hyperion king and his chokehold on the other kings gone, the southern kingdoms will be in chaos. Without a central ruler, any prosperity they might have will be fleeting as they try to navigate major upheaval.” Malachi grinned again, even fiercer. “But what we’ll offer is a solution to that anarchy, a plug to that power vacuum left in the wake of Rishaud’s death. Someone who has demonstrated the power to get things done, and the strength to bring an entire continent to heel.”
“You mean—”
“Yes, son,” Nychelle said. “Malachi will be the high king.”
Chapter Three
“WHAT DID YOU EXTRACT FROM THE APOLLYONS?” Kadeesha asked Leisha when she was finally reunited with her sisters. The feast that followed her betrothed’s arrival had dragged on and on, lasting late into the night. She now sat on a chaise in the boudoir that adjoined her main bedroom, Leisha and Samira both having joined her for a nightcap. She guzzled the much-needed wine in a fashion she hadn’t been able to do to soothe the rawest of her nerves during the feast, because she’d had to content herself with sitting by her betrothed’s side and daintily sipping it, as a proper Hyperion lady would do.
“I … did not coax anything of consequence out of the trio.”
Leisha’s unexpected response hacked through the misery Kadeesha had plunged into. She placed her goblet atop the end table beside her, blinking rapidly. “What do you mean? What occurred?”
“I didn’t kill our prisoners before I could extract their secrets, if that’s what you’re getting at,” Leisha responded defensively. “In fact, as you requested, one remains alive if you’d like to take a crack at our guest yourself. But the male has provento be especially well-trained at guarding Malachizrien’s secrets, and, like his deceased brethren, he’s explicitly stressed that he fears his liege more than anyone among the Six Kingdoms.” Leisha finished, heated, “Believe me, Your Highness, I tried—exhaustively—to make him see the error of that thinking. He won’t budge.” For all of Leisha’s ire, there was also a certain admiration to her decree. Of course there was. Leisha was the type of woman who’d always respect allegiance and courage, even when it presented on the enemy.
Kadeesha sighed. “Very well. If he is not useful, kill him too and be done with it.” There was no good reason to keep the enemy alive and so close to the people she loved. A rumor about the Apollyon forces was that even the lowliest of soldiers could prove deadly under the right circumstances. Kadeesha wouldn’t chance learning if that bit of gossip was an exaggeration sown by a guileful Apollyon king to rattle foes or if it was truth.
She grabbed her goblet again and then reached for the decanter on the foot table in front of her, filled her cup to the brim, and took a long swig. Her head began to pleasantly buzz from the effects of the lightly sweetened rose wine imported from the Stone Kingdom. Yet even as she did so, she thought perhaps drinking so heavily under such abysmal conditions was a terrible idea, because suddenly the boudoir felt stifling. It felt suffocatingly warm and the walls felt too close, the ceiling sloping down too low. She put the goblet down and stood.
“Let’s go out tonight,” she told her sisters. “I want to have a bit of fun—give myself one final night of freedom.” She deserved that much. Kadeesha knew as well as she knew her name that if she truly and fully let her mind descend into the dark place her marriage was taking her, she’d never emerge. At least not whole.
