Despite everything, I’ve still been looking at the world with human eyes.
Loving with a human heart.
Worrying about human problems.
I lift my head slowly and let out a deep exhale that stretches all the way to my belly.
Plume, I promise you, I won’t forget the animals,I vow.Fae and mortal ones alike. Not the spiders. Not the snapping turtles. Not the earthworms. Tòrr didn’t need to send a spy, but I’m glad he did. It reminded me of what’s most important.
Plume bounds from the gilded mirror to the windowsill, far more interested in exploring the furniture than my vow.Okay, whatever!
But the vow sits heavy with me.
My back bows over beneath the weight of it all. Everything that pulls me in opposite directions.
Fae.
Humanity.
Animals—the ones I never should have forgotten about, the ones who have always stood at my back when humans failed me.
“What did she say?” Suri sees the tears in my eyes and drops down, wrapping an arm around my back.
Ferra looks in distaste at the cold, bare floor, but drags over a stool next to where I’m slumped and sits.
I blink hard, fighting back tears I’m afraid will come out silver.
I can’t hold this in any longer.
“The rumors…about the risen fae…are true,” I manage to choke out between sobs.
Ferra clutches her silver locket, sucking in a breath. “You mean Immortal Iyre?”
“Iyre, yes.” I wipe at my eyes. “Basten wasn’t lying about seeing her. But there are others in Volkany. Other fae.”
Suri leans in, her lips trembling as she whispers, “You saw them?”
I nod, lips pressed tightly, afraid of the truth tumbling out. “Samaur. Woudix. Artain—gods, he’s anasshole. And Vale…” I sniffle, wiping my nose, and it comes away with a streak of silver. Luckily, I’m able to wipe it on a fold of my dress. “Vale is…King Rachillon.”
A heavy silence follows, broken only by Plume’s silly, rasping panting.
Ferra says slowly, “But King Rachillon is your father.”
“Yes. Yes. Yes—that’s right. You see, fae don’t sleep for thousands of years in underground tombs, like we were led to believe. They lie dormant in bloodlines, waiting for the right generation to reawaken from their human hosts. Rachillon is Vale. And I’m?—”
Their eyes widen, horror blooming.
I don’t finish. I don’t need to.
Instead, I turn my hand over, and the silver tears spill from my palm—slow, shimmering, unmistakable.
Fae.
Chapter 16
Basten
“What thefuckare you doing alive?” I bark at Matron White, all of us packed so tightly in the vestibule I can smell everyone’s breakfast on their breath. “I watched youdie.”
