“Are you ready?” he asked, grabbing my hand in his.
I nodded, not one part of mewantedto see them. But with the Commander at my side and my power thrumming in my veins, I knew they couldn’t break me anymore.
When the door opened, Riven lounged against the opposite wall with his arms crossed. “Finally,” he said darkly, raising his eyebrows and pushing off the wall.
Solas couldn’t hide his smile as he took us in but said nothing, for which I was grateful.
The Commander ignored them both, pulling me gently but firmly forward.
The corridor stretched before us, sunlight streaming through the large floor-to-ceiling windows cut into the mountain.
“The Mortal King waits with six others,” Solas briefedus as we walked. “The prince, his priest, a viscount and three soldiers.”
Aldric was here? My chest flooded with a strange mix of shame and hope. I hadn’t thought of him much since I read his letter, his apology. Anger crawled over its place. Did he know they were using my blood for power?
“The Iron Guard soldiers,” Riven added, keeping pace with us. “Are Commander Kragthorne, Captain Bronwyn and initiate Dreya.”
My step faltered, a small misstep, but big enough for the Commander to notice.
“A friend,” I said to him when he shot me a questioning look.
“If friends spear each other, then sure,” Riven scoffed.
“This Dreya, she is the one who speared you?” the Commander asked, fury swirling through bond.
“She was protecting herself,” I tried to explain, remembering the pure fear she had in her eyes when she had looked at me.
Riven walked with his hands in his pockets, a carefree smirk plastered on his face, but I didn’t miss the way his gaze kept flicking to my hand in the Commanders.
Fae soldiers and nobles froze in our path, eyes widening before they sank to their knees as the Relic crown on my brow glittered beneath the lights.
“They bow to you even in your own halls?” I asked in wonderment, not even my father had this sort of respect.
The Commander chuckled darkly, mouth pulling into a dangerous half smirk.
“They are not bowing tome.”
The words landed slowly. I had spent my life being arranged, displayed, and ignored. I was an ornament polished for other people’s power.
Not anymore.
We wound through the open corridors, coming to a foyer where Cerilla and Caelum waited. Caelum looked bored, as if this were beneath him, whereas Cerilla paced restlessly like a caged animal.
The Commander leant down, his lips brushing the shell of my ear. “If you won’t kill them,” he whispered. “Humiliate them.”
A thrill shot through my chest as a dark smile spread across my face.
The massive doors to the throne room loomed ahead, carved with swirling runes and the three-pointed star crest of the Obsidian Court.
I lifted my chin and let power ripple through my voice.
“Open the doors.”
Forty-Two
Alliance
The doors of the Obsidian Court throne room burst open under the Commander’s shadows, the sound rolling through the vast chamber like distant thunder. The Commander looped my arm through his as he escorted me inside, and the moment we touched the onyx tiles, the room shifted.Silence cracked like ice.All eyes turned.
