“Not human,” Ziven says.
Ferer narrows his eyes. “Some fae have blue or pink hair, so… fae, maybe?”
These answers surprise me. “Not Tiurian? You wouldn’t associate purple hair with Tiurians?”
Ferer shakes his head. “Your kind hasn’t been seen in a long time.”
I feel Marlak’s strong arm around me as I sag in my seat, then I say, “Otavio hid my hair, saying it was a sign of my Tiurian heritage.”
Lidiane shrugs. “Humans only have beige to black hair, sometimes red. So it made sense to hide it. Still, Otavio… I have a few things to tell you about him, but finish your story first.”
“You met him?” I’m surprised.
Lidiane nods. “Yes, but go on.”
Right. I’m still trying to make sense of the pieces I got, trying to understand what I saw, while part of me still hopes it was nothing but a nightmare. “The Witch King has dark purple hair. And I’m his descendent. He said so.”
My voice sounds flippant, casual, perhaps because I don’t dare allow myself to feel the gravity of this truth.
Marlak holds me tighter, as if sensing I need his support. This time, they look at me with wide eyes, except for Azur, of course, who already knew this.
My mouth feels dry and strange as I continue, “So the fact that the ghouls helped me has something to do with that, but I’m not sure what. Perhaps if the Witch King dies, then the ghouls will listen to me again. They attacked me after I beheaded him, so they’re still under his thrall.”
In fact, there goes my faint hope that perhaps the Witch King could have been gone for good.
Renel is fiddling with his bracelets but listening attentively. “It all makes sense now. My stepfather predicted this. I mean, predicted that the Witch King would return.”
Beside me, Marlak frowns. “Why do you say that?”
“Because it’s why he killed our father.” Renel says it slowly, but with the confidence of someone stating an indisputable fact.
Marlak’s arm tenses behind me. “You still believe this nonsense?”
It sounds like an old argument.
“There’s evidence, Marlak.” Renel’s voice is deep, careful. “I have enough clues to back up my suspicion.”
My husband rolls his eyes, visibly irritated. “Apologies, but we have more urgent matters to discuss than unfounded, slanderous theories.”
I’m not so certain that Renel’s theories are unfounded, but at the same time, I agree that we have more urgent things to discuss.
Marlak then proceeds to tell us about his journey to rescue his sister. His account of a dangerous, eerie island makes my skin crawl, and even more when he mentions dead servants and a monster bird.
“And where was your sister?” I ask, too anxious to keep waiting.
Marlak stiffens in his seat. “She was the monster bird and almost killed me, except that you broke her curse when you broke all magical bonds. You saved my life—and Ziven’s too.”
Beside him, Ziven nods. I’m starting to think these two are becoming friends or at least friendly, which is quite astounding. I’m also glad that I found the heart and did what I did, even if the thought that Marlak almost died horrifies me.
Marlak then tells us that his sister used a faerie circle to return to the Crystal Castle, and that he followed her, except that once he got there, he lost her because Azur was trying to kill him. I can’t help but glare at the blond fae.
At his table, Azur raises an eyebrow at Marlak. “I wanted toduel. Had I wanted to kill you, you wouldn’t be here calumniating others.”
Marlak huffs. “Well, yourduelingkept me from reaching Mirella.”
“Quarrelling,” Lidiane says. “Azur was quarrelling.”
Azur raises a finger. “Talking.”
