“We have more than two soldiers,” I said. “The Withered are on their way. Eirnan’s gathering Autumn fae along the route, recruiting anyone willing to fight.”
“Autumn?” His eyes flashed. “You’re recruiting my soldiers into your army?”
“Your people, your army, Callan. They’re doing what you can’t do yourself, so be grateful for it. But they won’t reachGrey Oak in time for the wedding. And we can’t let her sit that throne. Not even once.”
“So we stop the wedding,” he said. “How? Convince her to call it off? I’ve been trying that for weeks. She doesn’t take no for an answer.”
“We interrupt it,” I said. “In the throne room. In front of everyone.”
He stared at me, then shook his head. “Of course you will.”
“Slade’s magic can get us inside.”
“No,” Callan said, already shaking his head. “Autumn is warded against unauthorized entry. My father made sure of it. After Heliconia’s surprise arrival at our party those years ago.”
Seven Hels.
“In that case, you’ll have to make sure the guards let us through. No resistance. No alarms.”
“And how exactly do you propose I do that?” he asked, though we both knew the answer.
“You use your gift,” I said. “Your persuasion. Tell them to stand down. To let us pass.”
“You’re asking me to expose my ability—one that I’ve kept secret my entire life.”
“I’m asking you to help me stop her from stealing your kingdom.”
His jaw tightened. For a moment, he looked like his father. Then he shook it off, forcing a smile that didn’t reach his eyes.
“And after I persuade the guards to let you in?” he asked. “What then? Do you actually think you can take her?”
I held his gaze. “Yes.”
The word felt both too big and not big enough.
Callan lifted a brow. “Last I checked, she nearly killed you in Rosewood seven years ago.”
I exhaled slowly. “In the valley,” I said, “I burned hercamp. Drained her Frostwights. Took the magic out of their bones and set fire to everything she’d built there.”
He held still. “I heard a rumor,” he admitted, “but I thought it was exaggerated. You’re telling me that was really you?”
“Would I lie about something like that?” I asked.
“Absolutely,” he said. “If you thought it would get you what you wanted.”
Despite myself, a corner of my mouth twitched. “Fair enough. It was me.”
For a moment, he just looked at me. Not like a king. Not like a boy who’d once thought he could buy my compliance with dresses and jewels and public adoration. Just like someone trying to reconcile the girl he’d tried to own with the woman capable of killing him where he stood.
“And you controlled it?” he asked quietly. “Your magic?”
I hesitated.
His gaze sharpened further. “Because I heard rumors about that too. A loss of control. A fire so brutal it burned friend and foe alike.”
“I controlled it,” I said.
“Aurelia,” he warned. “Do not lie to me.”
