Over the rail climb slithering bodies, dripping seawater. Most resemble Cobalt with slim physiques, webbed fingers, and gills. They wear armor of pink coral, their weapons similar to the one Amelie attacked me with. Several of them leap upon Aspen, then several more.
Footsteps sound on the floor behind me, and I feel a rush of hope. Aspen’s guards—dozens of them—surge forward from the stairwell, followed by Foxglove and Lorelei. “Found them in the dungeon,” Foxglove mutters to me when he reaches my side.
Aspen’s guards charge the sea fae, but more of Cobalt’s guards leap over the rail to face them, baring teeth, shattering armor with their coral swords and knives.
Aspen still struggles against his assailants, trying to throw them off, but all it does is allow Cobalt to dart away from his brother’s reach. The sea fae pull at Aspen’s ears, wrench his antlers, slick the ground beneath his hooves until he’s scrambling to maintain purchase.
Finally, Aspen stops struggling. The sea fae tug him down, down, until he’s sprawled on the floor.
I’m frozen in horror as I watch Aspen shift back into his seelie form, chest heaving as Cobalt’s guards pull his arms behind his back. He keeps his eyes trained on his brother, fury emblazoned on his features.
“Cobalt,” Aspen says through his teeth, “I challenge your claim to the throne.”
Chapter Thirty-Nine
Silence falls over the balcony.
Cobalt’s lips pull into a devious grin. “Are you sure that’s wise, brother?”
“The throne doesn’t belong to you,” Aspen growls.
“That’s your opinion, and if you’re offering me a challenge, that choice won’t be yours to make.”
“The challenge has been made,” Aspen says. “Do you accept?”
Cobalt shudders and shifts back to his seelie form. “I do.”
I hear a sharp intake of breath from Foxglove. “This isn’t good,” he mutters.
“What’s going on?”
He wrings his hands. “If the council has already agreed to accept Cobalt as king, a challenge for the throne was King Aspen’s last hope. But, oh, I can already see this going badly.”
The sea fae release Aspen and allow him to rise to his feet, yet they maintain a tight circle around him. The council erupts in chatter.
“What does a challenge for the throne entail?” I whisper to Foxglove.
“They will have three options,” he explains. “Either a battle of strength, a presentation of factual debate, or a decision of fate.”
I look from Aspen to Cobalt, a spark of hope igniting within me. “Aspen will win a battle of strength.”
He nods, but his expression is grave. “There’s no doubt about that. But as the challenged, it’s Cobalt’s right to select which option they take. He’ll know better than to select a battle of strength, even if he were to name a champion to fight in his stead.”
“He can do that?”
“Yes. Either royal can name another to fight for them. Their champion can secure the win in their patron’s name.”
Cobalt walks to the other side of the balcony, then leans against the rail. He watches Aspen, a pleased smile on his lips.
My blood goes cold. “Why does he look so confident?”
“Because he’s going to choose the option he knows he can win,” whispers Foxglove. “A presentation of factual debate. He clearly believes his motives were just, and he already received the support of the council once. There’s no doubt he can do it again.”
“The council decides the winner of the debate?”
He nods.
“Then Aspen will have to stand up for himself. He’ll tell them the truth.” My words come out weak, and I can feel their folly before they leave my mouth. It was hard enough for Aspen to get past his pride and tell me the truth. How will he fare when facing a council that is already set against him, not to mention a brother who can lie? I feel the blood drain from my face. “Oh no. This isn’t good.”
