She would never again share her throne.
“You honor me, my Queen,” I said, the words feeling like ash in my mouth.
“How is my daughter faring, after the loss of herfriend,” she said, the word feeling like an insult. I had no doubt sending Estrella to Tartarus was only partially because the woman seemed more likely to succeed in the quest that Mab’s other victims had been unable to do. It also served the purpose of severing her daughter’s bond with the woman Fallon valued far more than she ever would her own mother. Stealing Fallon away would mean she was separated from Imelda as well.
I had no doubt that if we remained, Imelda would be the next to suffer Mab’s wrath. The thought alone had me glancing toward the figure before the dais, but the woman was a far cry from the witch who’d raised Fallon.
“I detained her in my rooms for the time being,” I said, shrugging as if it was inconsequential. “The girl doesn’t seem to know how to contain her emotions appropriately, but we will work on that,” I said, earning a nod of approval from Mab.
“Good. She could do with a lesson in respect,” Mab said, smiling broadly. In the days after my betrothal to Fallon, she’d asserted her expectations that I would bring her wayward daughter to heel. That I would use whatever means I felt were necessary to train Fallon into something Mab could be proud of.
“I apologize to admit that I came to ask a favor of you, my Queen,” I said, bowing my head forward. Asking anything of her could be volatile at best, deadly most days.
“You wish to take my daughter and leave,” she said, knowing the question I would ask before I could even voice it. It was the strategic move, returning home to fill the void of power. Even Mab had to see that.
“I worry what would happen if one of the other Gods were to return to the Summer Court before Fallon and I have had ample time to make our journey according to our bridal traditions. If her magic truly does belong to the Summer Court, it may not pass to her until she sets foot on summer soil and exposes herself to it. I would hate for it to pass her over in favor of another,” I explained, trailing off.Mab was familiar with the Summer Court and the ways we prepared our brides for marriage, of what occurred in the days leading up to the crowning of a new King and Queen. There was a process to become the heir.
“Fuck the traditions,” she said with a scoff, rolling her eyes. “Simply kill anyone who may oppose your rule. It is only a matter of time before Rheaghan’s magic passes to Fallon at any rate, and none will be able to argue with her right to rule once that occurs.”
“Ifit passes to her. The magic of the Summer Court could always pass to you, my Queen,” I said, offering up the uncertainty in who the court itself would choose as heir. There was always a slight unpredictability to it, if the next natural choice was unworthy of such things for any reason. The magic of Faerie was wild and untamed and often did whatever it wanted; lineage was a strong indicator, but not the ultimate one.
“No, I’ve long since given up hope that would occur. If I thought it possible, I’d have killed Rheaghan sooner. The magic of the Summer Court will pass over me. The light has long been lost to me in a way that will never recover,” she said, staring off into the distance for a moment. There was something almost wistful about her expression, an indication that maybe she missed the warmth of her home court.
“Whatever happens, as helpful as it may be to have in the face of opposition, I think it more prudent that we attempt to quell any rebellion before it begins. Fallon honoring traditions that are not her own would go a long way toward endearing her to my people,” I said, keeping my voice soft. There was no reproach, only a gentle reminder that a peaceful coup always offered more strength than a violent one.
“Very well, then,” Mab said, raising her hand to peel dried blood from her fingers. “I will see that the Gods are not permitted to leave for five days’ time. Will that give you the head start you require to be crowned before any other Gods can make an offering to the magic?” she asked, her stare already turning bored. Her attention on me flagged, moving back to the woman she clearly intended to torment more after I left her in peace.
“That would be most generous of you,” I said, nodding my head in agreement.
“Yes, it would, wouldn’t it? Off you go, then,” she said, her voice eerily cheerful. I swallowed down my unease for the woman she looked to, knowing that she would never leave this throne room alive.
“Thank you, my Queen,” I said, turning to give Mab my back and leaving her to her fate as I escaped with those who mattered to me.
“Oh, and Etan?” she called as she descended the steps. The click of her heels forced me to look at her over my shoulder, at the slowly gathering mass of shadows at her side that I prayed were not intended for me. “I expect my daughter to be reformed, next I see her. I would hate to be disappointed in how you handle her.”
“Understood,” I said, bowing my head before I retreated from the room to the sound of a whip cracking through the air.
But it wasn’t meant for me, not yet anyway.
ELEVENETAN
I bypassed my room, striding straight down the hallway to another that was near enough to mine. While Eryx normally called the Autumn Court home, he’d spent a great many weeks visiting with a lover in the Summer Court a few years prior. In that time, we’d gotten to know him well enough that I felt comfortable asking this favor of him.
Fallon would probably gut him the next time she saw him, but that was something for him to worry about another day.
I knocked on the wooden door, the distinct scent of a warm summer day clinging to the space beyond. It smelled like home, like afternoon naps in the shadow of a tree to escape the sun.
Eryx tugged open the door, stretching with a yawn as he took in my presence. He stepped to the side, allowing me to enter the room that was his haven. Every corner of his space was filled with nooks suited to sleeping, books strewn about as if he only read a few pages before tumbling into slumber. The folded corners of pages made something within me twitch.
“Have you never heard of a bookmark?” I asked, picking a book up off the floor where he’d arranged pillows in front of the windows that overlooked the sandy terrain outside.
“Did you wake me simply to insult my book preferences, or did you need something, Highness?” Eryx said, giving a mocking bow that was in poor taste, considering it had been scarcely an hour since Rheaghan’s death.
A growl rumbled in my throat, a warning that I would not tolerate his disrespect.
“Apologies, even I know that was horrible,” he admitted, moving to an end table and gathering the wineglass that I suspected could hold enough to put him to sleep for hours. He drew a deep drink, and I sighed with the knowledge that this was how the man coped. He drowned his sorrows in drink and slept until the world seemed brighter. “What is it you need, Etan?” he asked finally, setting the glass down gently.
His hands shook as he moved away from the wine, a slight tremor that hinted at just how deeply the loss of the Summer King had affected him.
