Forty-One
NISSA
For the first time since we put our plan in place, I am out of our room without hiding. As we sit on the thrones on the Dias in the ballroom, I reach over and link my fingers through Cillian’s. The room is decorated the way it should have been originally at our reception. The perfect mix of earth and water elements filling the space in honor of our bond.
With us diving straight into working on the elemental lands and then the kidnapping, we never had the Royal Procession—one that all Fae are welcome to attend, not just the Elite.
Typically this is a ceremonial procession through the streets of the Elite City but we decided to conclude it with a formal event at the castle. One whereeveryonewas welcome. One that will show the Fae that things are about to change.
My new heartstone lay heavy between my breasts. The gold sewn into my dress shining in the lights of the room. My outfit complimenting Cillian’s deep blue suit perfectly.
Butterflies fill my stomach for what is about to come but in the same breath, warmth blooms in my chest. Warmth at knowing I am exactly where I need to be. That we are taking the steps we need to, to revive our world.
A smile grows across my face as I watch every social level of Fae fill the royal ballroom. A solemn silence falls over the room, and Cillian squeezes my hand as his parents— the former king and queen—and Halcya are announced.
The Fae part to allow the three of them to approach the dais. Traditionally the former king and queen would sit to the new king’s left. Receiving the respects given to the former monarchs.
The three of them hesitate when they reach the bottom of the steps and realize that their seats are missing. Isolde’s eyes dart around the room quickly before landing back on us.
Cillian’s father smiles softly up at us. “King Cillian, Queen Nissa.” He gives a small bow that is not required of the former king to the new monarchs.
Isolde sneers in the direction of her counterpart, then says, “Cillian, where?—”
He holds up a hand, silencing his mother. I fight back a smile of satisfaction, trying to keep my face tranquil. Her eyes go wide, but she has the sense to stop talking. A mottled red flushes her cheeks as she takes in those around her again.
“We have decided to use this celebration as the occasion for one of my first royal orders,” Cillian proclaims to the room.
Confused eyes stare back at us.
“As all of you know, my mate, your queen was recently taken. In the wake of this, we have learned of a number of decisions and events that led to her kidnapping.” He is addressing the room, but Isolde’s mouth presses so tight that her lips are colorless. Her hands fisting the fabric of her burgundy dress in a silent tantrum.
Her mate, at her side, reaches for her hand. She pulls away from him.
“We have discovered,” Cillian continues, “that my brother, the former prince, was responsible for Princess Nova’s death.”
Every Fae around the edges of the room begins talking in shock. Kiel jerks his head to Isolde, but she doesn’t return his gaze, eyes locked on her son.
I share a look with Cillian. The shock on his father’s face confirms it. He didn’t know about Nova at least.
“Isolde Vaylor…” Cillian’s voice is amplified by the wisps in the room. “As former Queen of Castara, we hold you responsible for the cover-up of the murder of the Daughter of Gaia, Princess Nova Navarro.”
Isolde’s mouth falls open, but she seems too stunned to speak. A few Guardians shift uneasily on their feet, some even taking steps backwards towards the doors. Before they can run, Guardians who Niko and Cillian have deemed trustworthy, along with a few back-ups from Varethiel,step forward through every doorway.
Chaos begins to break out.
“Furthermore”—Cillian holds his hand up, quieting everyone—“Isolde and Kiel Vaylor, High Priestess Halcya—you are all three being held accountable for the destruction and depletion of Castara’s natural resources and energy. By concealing essential information and sending Nissa Navarro away from Solevara for so many years, you were the direct cause of the Goddess’s attack on the elemental lands.”
Halyca’s hand is covering her bright red lips in shock. Her body frozen in place.
Kiel’s ashen gaze moves between us and his mate who is fire personified. She looks like she wants to burn the world down around her. Which is ironic since she almost did with all of her deception.
Cries of anguish and shouts of outrage erupt from all those assembled. Everyone’s powers have been directly impacted by the storms and they are realizing that those in front of them are directly responsible for that.
Guardians surround the three responsible and begin restraining them. Kiel has the decency to look guilty and is easily bound, but Isolde and Halcya struggle when the guardians approach. After so many years of lies, I guess I shouldn’t be surprised.
“Son. Please, ” Isolde calls out once she finds her voice again.
Son…I don’t think I’ve ever heard her call Cillian that before.
