“In matters of the treaty, I am the legal judge and executioner. My word is final.”
All hope drains from me at once, and with it goes my fire.
He takes a step away, voice rising for all to hear. “Our original terms stand. You, your mother, and your sister were offered exile or execution. Your sister didn’t come today, so the punishment is death.”
Aspen shudders at my side, chest heaving. I can feel his anger, his helplessness at not truly being here in physical form.
Franco lets out several angry caws, while the jurors exchange furious whispers. The councilmen, on the other hand, seem perfectly composed.
It’s over. Mr. Duveau will never let me stay. He’s sentenced us to death. There’s only one thing left to fight for.
31
“Please,” I say, tears springing to my eyes. “Please reconsider. I told you, I tried to get my sister to come. Just...just let us leave the isle. At the very least, let my mother go free.”
Mr. Duveau grins. “Oh, now you beg for my mercy? Now you ask me to allow you to take exile?”
Mother tries to speak, but all she can make is a pained moan.
I nod. “Please.”
“I want to see you beg.” The room returns to silence as Mr. Duveau takes a key from the pocket of his black robe. He places it inside a lock on the arm of my chair. With a turn, the cuffs at my wrists and ankles spring open. He steps back and motions me forward. “I want you to plead on your knees.”
Mother’s teeth chatter as she says my name, but I pay her no heed. With shaking steps, I rise from my chair and move toward the councilman.
“Don’t dare try anything clever,” he says, pulling his robe to the side. A flash of silver catches my eyes. A revolver, like the one Sheriff Bronson had. I swallow hard. Since when do councilmen carry revolvers? “Iron bullets,” he says with a smirk.
“Don’t do this,” Aspen says, voice thick with fury. “Do not beg from this monster. We’ll find another way.”
I ignore him as I lower to my knees and press my palms together. “Please show us mercy.”
“Beg me to exile you.”
“Please exile me and my mother.” My words are flat, toneless.
The councilman responds with icy silence. “Perhaps I’ll consider exiling your mother,” he says. “You, however, will serve a different fate before you meet your exile. You made a good point about the treaty. I can exile you without sending you away right now.”
I don’t know what he’s carrying on about, as all words have lost meaning.
He continues. “Before you take your exile, you will serve in the Briar House.”
My eyes shoot to his.
“That is the only way I will agree to grant you freedom from execution.”
My mouth is too dry to say a word, so I give him a jagged nod.
“Beg,” Mr. Duveau says through his teeth. “Beg me to take you to the Briar House. Beg me to be your first patron.”
Aspen darts toward the councilman, lips pulling back from his teeth as he roars in his face. Mr. Duveau, of course, can’t see him, nor can he feel my mate’s antlers making their futile attempts to tear into the man.
I open my mouth to do as told, but this time it’s fury that holds me back. Anger builds in my core, snapping me out of my daze. I’m frozen, suspended between words that will condemn my mother and words that will destroy my honor.
An unexpected voice shatters the silence in the room. “You will not beg.” Mother’s words are said through chattering teeth, but they’re stronger than I expected them to be. “You will not utter a single one of those words, Evelyn. You do not plead for this scum to defile you. This ends now. I will end my life myself before I see you on your knees before this filth a minute more.”
Mr. Duveau shoots my mother a glare before turning his eyes back to me. “This is your last chance, Miss Fairfield. Beg now or die.”
All I hear is my mother’s words, her fire sparking with mine, creating an inferno in my heart. My mind becomes clear. My mother is right. I cannot grovel before this man, even if it’s for my life or hers. I’m not merely a human Chosen or an illegal fae. I’m so much more. I’m a lover and a daughter and the descendant of a king. I am the Unseelie Queen of Fire.
