Woudix’s eyes flash in warning. “Sabine…”
But I’m already speaking the words. “A pinch of earth to close the deal. What’s given now, the ground will seal.” I let the dirt fall between my fingers.
He taps his fingers on the table’s edge, one by one, with excruciating patience. “That may just be enough to sway your father.”
Then, he slips the clay bird into the inside of his coat and takes out a book instead.
“For your training.” He holds it out to me. “You are ready for the next level.”
I take the book. It feels old but is in good condition, wrapped in smooth calf leather—it feels practically alive in my hand.
He takes out the fae needle and moves his long fingers in the air, feeling for something unseen, and then stabs the needle into the fabric of space.
A beam of moonlight spills out—night has already fallen in the far north.
He pauses to look back at me. “I have my reasons for avoiding war—but I admit I am curious about your own. You’re Goddess of Nature. You care that much about the humans here?”
“Of course.” My throat tightens. “My husband is human. It’s only natural that I care about his kingdom.”
The silence stretches.
“Hiskingdom,” Woudix points out. “Not yours.”
My chest shrinks inward, suddenly starved for air. I force a few breaths, keeping my head high as Woudix finishes unstitching a portal, passes through, and seals it up.
Only then do I collapse against the table, slide to the floor, and hug the book to my chest to keep my hands from shaking.
I swore a fae bargain.
Which means Ican’tfail—and I only know one person with a mind devious enough to come up with a bombproof plan to make the public adore a court of fae who could snuff them out with a snap of their fingers.
It’s time to pay Rian Valvere a midnight visit.
A secret one.
Chapter 22
Basten
The following morning, we stand on the rooftop of Honor Tower—me, Rian, and Kendan—looking out over the pillaged city of Old Coros. Smoke rises from burned-out husks of shops that careless sentinels torched, drunk on both whisky and power. The air is fetid with the stench of weeks-old rotting food scraps and animal shit.
A shiver ripples over my skin, pulling it tight with anger.
Old Coros isn’t my hometown. Hell, I can count on one hand how many times I’ve been here. There was a time when the people here, the streets, the buildings meant nothing to me.
But now I wear the crown.
Itismy home.
And nothing pisses me off more than someone making a mess of what’s mine.
“Okay, you clever ass,” I mutter to Rian from the corner of my mouth. “Now’s your chance to prove you’re worth more than those rusty shackles binding your hands.”
Rian slides me a droll look as he raises his bound hands toward the row of parapets, rattling the very shackles inquestion. “The second, third, and sixth parapet. That’s the signal.”
I pierce him with a heavy look of doubt, unwilling to deal with any more of his lies.
“Don’t trust me?” he says wryly.
