“Yes. Though Allegra and the queen are highly suspicious of the inhabitants because it’s still the only place capable of hiding them. Izel will make sure that it stays that way, and she will have some time to focus on what is coming next while the queen is distracted.” Izel, the teal-haired siren that lives in Eersten. “She will also make sure Nia stays put there.”
“Does anyone else know?” I ask, sitting back down on the bed. “That you’re pretending?”
“No. Only a handful of the legionaries that I trust and now you two. Every other correspondence I’ve had, whether it be with the sirens of Eersten or otherwise, has been anonymous.”
“Why? Why risk it at all? The queen trusts you, and that is not something that has come easily,” Lyre says, her voice hard. My eyes bounce from one sister to the other, something unspoken passing between them. With Sade in her seventh decade and Lyre in her fourth, there is a large amount of history they had together before I was born. But whatever situation Lyre is insinuating, Sade seems apathetic.
“At first, Ididbuy into everything our mother said. About our history and what was taken from us. About what we were owed and how it was our duty to take it by any means necessary. As our song began fading and our numbers reduced, it only strengthened that belief. For many decades, I was a faithful daughter in every sense.” Sade looks away from us, her lips pursed in a harsh line. She doesn’t have to add anything else. Somewhere along the line, things changed. Perhaps it was a single moment or many smaller ones strung together. Whatever it was, Sade is risking everythingnowto be here and toundermine our mother. Bravery doesn’t have to be loud and flashy to be worthy.
“So now what?” I ask.
“Once we are sure the cave has been cleared, I will have to present you to our mother for the traitor accusations. It’s the only way to appease Allegra and keep her from getting suspicious. I’ll tell them what I found or, rather, what Ididn’tfind.” My throat works with a rough swallow, panic once more creeping along the edges of my mind. “And then your fate will be determined with a vote.”
Great.
“But there is something we’ve yet to discuss,” Sade says, looking right at me.
I nervously tap my fingers against the scales at my hips as I shift between her stare. Lyre offers me a small smile of encouragement. “I was sort of hoping you had forgotten about that.”
Sade’s brow arches. “Forget that your magic works onsirens? Don’t thinkthatwill be happening any time soon.”
“Did you know?” Lyre asks me, her gaze soft. “That your magic worked on our kind?”
“No,” I rasp, just as shocked by the revelation as they are. “I swear it. I only knew that it worked on females, but I assumed that excluded sirens.”
“Interesting.” That’s all Sade offers as she heads towards Lyre’s door, apparently done for the evening.
“Sade, no one can know about Aria’s magic. If the queen finds out—”
“You needn’t worry about that, Lyre,” Sade interrupts, her fingers closing around the door handle. “Another of Aria’s secrets will be kept safe with me.”
Chapter Seventy-Six: Myla
Ifuckinghatethethrone room. Beneath its silver adornments and drapes of deep red velvet hides a darkness. The punishments administered in this room begin and end in the shadow of my father’s throne—his seat of power made of ancient dragon bones, masterfully crafted dragon wings flaring as if the chair itself is preparing to take flight. Beneath the glow of the chandeliers and above the glittering onyx floor, this room holds so much more than the aristocratic fae that currently mingle within it. It’s where the condemned come to be judged, theirfates locked in before they ever step foot in front of my father. It’s the birthplace of my first set of scars, my once clean skin now a menagerie of markings that can be traced back to the moment I was dragged up the center aisle and thrown before the king.
It had been ten years, and the wounds still ache as if they are fresh any time I step foot in here. Ten years, and the scent of the burning wood and oil on the lamps still trigger me to the point my fingers tremble. Ten years and dozens of bodies that I have claimed in my own form of retribution, and Istillfucking hate this room and everything it stands for.
But I need information that only the people here can give me.
Leaning back against the wooden wall of the small mezzanine overlooking the throne room, I stay back so as not to be seen by anyone below. This space is meant for musicians during celebrations, but today, it’s serving as the perfect spot to eavesdrop. Plucking a green grape I swiped before climbing up here, I pop it into my mouth and listen to the chatter below. For now, it’s nothing more than idle gossip, and with how rich they are, one would think they could at leastpayto have something more interesting to talk about. Yet, as the night wears on and my bundle of grapes dwindles, I begin to wonder if forcing myself to endure this room is a mistake. Particularly as the remaining tenderness of my lashes makes me shift uncomfortably.
A pair of voices grows louder than the others, and when I strain my ears to catch what they’re saying, I realize they are coming from the small stairwell leading to the mezzanine. Sucking in a breath, I pull my headdress into place and squat on the balls of my feet, dagger in hand. Leesi had forced me into a light green dress, the matching fabric wrapping around my head and half of my face a light enough material to breathe through easily. No one paid me mind as I meandered the halls before the party, my latest punishment only furthering my status as a social pariah. Not that I am complaining.
Crouching low, I listen to the scrape of boots on stone as they climb higher up the concealed staircase. My heart beats heavily in anticipation while my fingers roll along the hilt of my dagger, soothing movements that pacify the anxiousness of being discovered.
The footsteps come to a stop on the other side of the door.
“Tell me you have some positive news,” a male asks, somewhat breathlessly.
A sigh responds, followed by the scraping of fabric against stone. “They are avoiding our border where we’ve been attacking them. We have to go somewhere new if we have any hope of fulfilling the king’s quota of mages.” My ears perk as I lean towards the door, picking up the steadier inhales of the second male. They’re close enough that if they listened carefully, they would hear the sound of my breathing and heartbeat too.
“The king will not take kindly to that answer. Wehaveto get close to the numbers he’s asked for, oryou’regoing to tell him we’ve failed.”
The two bicker about who will be tasked with telling the king, and I consider outing myself just to tell them to move the fuck on when they finally change the subject.
“He killed one of the mages last night. I think it had to do with the failed attempt to get that black dragon.”
I arch a brow at that.
