Cora’s stomach churned. “That’s why you feed the unicorns to your Roizan. It…holds their magic.”
“Which I, in turn, draw from at will.”
“Why do you starve them? Torture them?”
“Unicorn magic is pure light, Aveline,” he said, a condescending lilt to his tone. “It has been known to heal, to burn away darkness.”
Cora huffed. “That’s supposed to be a bad thing?”
“It is neither a good thing nor a bad thing because darkness isn’t evil. Darkness is simply an aspect of light the same way death is an aspect of life. My Art deals in darkness, which makes light magic detrimental. But light can turn to dark the same way day turns to night. Unlike the natural passing of dawn to dusk, light magic needs help to transmute itself into darkness. Starving the unicorns, trapping them in iron, and letting the deadly metal drain their vitale…it corrupts their magic. Changes it. No unicorn would ever wield corrupted magic themselves, but I would. And I do. You saw my demonstration. Saw how easily I drew living wraiths from dead, scorched earth. You’ve seen how I can change the minds of the weak. Saw how easily Prince Lexington accepted my offer. Menah and Selay will fall, as will anyone who stands against us. Dimetreus will become King of Lela. Your only choice is to stand at his side.”
Cora squeezed the arms of her chair until her knuckles turned white. “To what end? You’ve implied that you intend to usurp my brother once he’s claimed rule over the three kingdoms. Why? My brother has already given you more than you deserve. He made you a duke. Set you at the head of his council. How is that not enough for you?”
He scoffed. “The title of a duke. I’m already a prince of two kingdoms—a kingdom of men and a kingdom of fae. If neither of those titles are enough, what makes you think I’ll settle for being a duke?” He shook his head. “I’ll settle only for King of Lela.”
Cora frowned. Since when was Morkai a prince? Not only that but a prince of fae? She’d already suspected his fae heritage when she’d studied his features in the coach. But…there were no living fae aside from the Faeryn descendants. No fae kingdom left to rule. As for the human kingdoms he sought to overthrow…
She gritted her teeth. “You have no right to rule all three kingdoms of Lela. Not even Dimetreus has that right.”
Morkai’s silver-blue eyes flashed with indignation. “I do have that right. My blood is the blood of an Elvyn king. My claim is to Lela’s magic, and I will inherit it.”
“What are you talking about?”
“Lela is more than it seems, Aveline. It is not a human land, but the heart of the fae realm. Fae magic seeps through every blade of grass, every root, every tree, but it does nothing but dissipate into thin air. The magic must be harnessed, and the person to harness it will be me.” He shifted in his seat, some of the fire leaving his words. “First, though, I mustinheritthe land itself. Not just a portion of it. Not just Khero. All of what was once considered Lela.”
“That’s why you’re having my brother conquer the other two kingdoms.”
He nodded. “I cannot conquer Lela myself, I can only rightfully inherit it. That is a condition of the prophecy I cannot fight. Your brother, on the other hand, can claim rule over the three kingdoms through battle, brutality, lethal force—whatever means necessary. Then he will pass his crown to me after his death.”
Cora bristled. “You’re going to murder him.”
“He’s going to die,” the duke corrected, lips quirked into a sly smile.
She shook her head. “You can’t be his heir. Your rule will be contested?—”
“Who will dare stand against me?”
Cora wanted to say her brother’s other councilmen, but she realized they were likely already under Morkai’s thumb. If they were even still alive. Based on the two prisoners she’d met today, it seemed Morkai didn’t let those who stood against him live.
“It won’t matter,” Morkai said. “By the time anyone thinks to contest my rule, I will have control over fae magic. Not just the Elvyn magic that lives in my blood but the magic of the Faeryn too. Whatever magic you’ve seen and studied, whatever magic you think you know, it pales in comparison to what I’ll have once I’m king. I will direct the flow of magic in this land, whether it’s the Art of witches or the Magic of the Soil. I will give power where it is due and take it from where it is not.”
Cora’s mind reeled at the hidden implications. He hadn’t admitted to knowing about the Forest People, but he knew about the Faeryn, the Magic of the Soil. He claimed to be an Elvyn prince. If he attained the power he sought…what would happen to the Forest People? Their magic? To witches like her and anyone who refused to bow to his control?
Keeping her voice level, she asked, “Why do you want this power so badly?”
He lifted his chin and studied her for a few silent moments. “I will do great and wonderful things, Aveline. My allies will be blessed. My enemies will be vanquished. I will shape the future of the world as I see fit. My magic will allow me to accomplish feats you can’t imagine. I will put an end to death for those I protect.” His expression took on a fierce quality as something dark flashed in his eyes. Slowly, he stood from his chair, planting his cane firmly before him. “You could be one of those people.”
An end to death. What was he talking about? She recalled what he’d done with the prisoners’ blood. What he’d done withherminuscule drop. She recalled the wraiths, heard their ghostly blades carving apart living flesh. If Morkai could do all that, what else could he do? What could he do to an army? What could he do during a bloody battle? Even more frightening was the thought of what he could do if his powers were increased by the magic he sought.
Cora knew in the depths of her heart, blood, and soul that—should Morkai succeed—he would destroy the world.
“You’re right about one thing,” he said, voice gentle. “Some will contest my right to the throne after your brother dies, and I will deal with them swiftly. I will spill their blood without remorse. You, however, can stop that from ever happening. You can save others from bloodshed by helping me strengthen my right to the throne.”
“How?” she asked, although she dreaded the answer.
His pale eyes locked on hers, devoid of warmth. “Marry me.”
She rose from her chair and took a step away, knocking the tea table over in the process. Her teacup and saucer clattered to the floor, but she refused to take her eyes from Morkai’s. “You’re out of your mind.”
