1
Every young woman dreams of wearing a crown.
Well, I never held such a frivolous desire, but I’ve finally come to understand the appeal. Not so much the crown itself but what comes with it. Influence. Power. Responsibility. A king at my side.
For me, it’s not just any king.
It’s a mate I care for, one who ignites my anger as often as he sparks my desire. And I would have been his queen.
Would have beenbeing the operative phrase here, as that is now completely and utterly wrecked.
A hollow ringing reverberates in my ears as I stand in the dining room at Bircharbor Palace, eyes unfocused as I rock on my feet. An explosion has come and gone, one of several that have occurred this hour, but this time I don’t react. It isn’t that I’ve grown used to the work the fae soldiers are doing on the beach below the palace, sealing the coral caves with detrimental blasts of explosives. It’s more that I’m too numb to care. Too shocked to do anything but stand here wishing the last minute of my life could be reversed.
A minute ago, Aspen was in my arms.
A minute ago, we still had plans to get married.
A minute ago, our alliance would have protected both the humans and fae from certain doom.
But now…
“We’re going to war.” It’s my voice that utters the words, but it sounds distant, strange.
King Aspen and Ambassador Foxglove stand before me, but I can’t bring them into focus. My eyes glaze over, the dining room shrinking until it’s nothing more than a pinprick of light. The summer heat wafting in through the open expanse in the wall behind me sends waves of dizziness to my head. I take in a deep breath, then another, but I can’t seem to get enough air. I’d give anything for a cool breeze. For the usual Autumn Court weather to return and dry the sweat beading my brow.
The sound of paper crinkling pulls my attention back to the present, like an anchor in my whirlpool of thoughts. I realize the sound belongs to the letter in Aspen’s hand, now crushed into a ball within his fist. The letter bears the words that announced the invalidation of our pairing. The end of the treaty. Of everything I’ve been fighting for.
The end of me and Aspen.
My lungs constrict, and I feel like my thoughts will swallow me whole, but I refocus on that piece of paper, on the shape of Aspen’s fingers curled around it. Finally, the room ceases spinning, and my breathing begins to ease. My eyes lock on my mate, taking in every curve and angle of his beautiful face as if doing so can further root me into this moment. With my study of him comes a sudden awareness of the anger written in the rigid set of his shoulders, the tick in his jaw. The sight of his rage snaps me further out of my stupor, and I feel my own fury rise to meet his. A willing partner in a fiery dance.
My anger invigorates me at once.
“No,” I say through my teeth, “this isn’t happening. Not after everything we’ve been through, after everything we’ve done.”
“Are you honestly surprised?” Aspen mutters.
“Yes, I’m surprised. We did everything the treaty called for. Our wedding is set for three days from now—the exact date the human council gave us. We met every deadline.”
“Apparently the council doesn’t care about deadlines. They’ll use any excuse to keep us from solidifying the pact.”
“How can you say that? They can’t want war any more than we do. Besides, every suspicion you had about the human council being a threat to you has proven to be misguided. Cobalt was behind every action that kept you from securing the treaty thus far.”
“If that were the case, they wouldn’t have sent this.” He lifts his hand and the paper crumpled in his fist.
“What exactly does it say?” I look from Aspen to Foxglove. While Foxglove verbally relayed the general message of the letter, I haven’t read it word for word myself. “They must have given a reason to invalidate our alliance.”
“Well, they—” Foxglove cuts off abruptly at a sharp look from Aspen.
A chill crawls up my spine. “What is it? What aren’t you telling me?”
Foxglove looks to Aspen in deference, lips pressed tight as if he’s fighting to keep from blurting some dangerous truth.
I step closer to my mate. “Tell me what it said or let me read it myself.”
He doesn’t meet my eyes. “I’ll take care of it.”
Fury roars through me, arguments storming from my mind to my lips. Before I can utter a single one, the ground rocks beneath my feet again, forcing me off balance. From the corner of my eye, I see water shooting into the sky from the explosion.
