“What did Eli say of the dagger?”
“It’s real. It’s made of natural diamonds, and we traced it to her.”
“How? How is that possible?”
I wipe a cloth against the sweating wine, bringing it to the table.
“She must have distant Reign blood. An ancestor several generations back,” Hector says.
“Would it impact the health of future children?”
The males share a look. Hector sighs. “You should’ve married before ascending the throne. I felt the instability in the air at the coronation, and we’re lucky that faerie died to be the main talk among the nobles.”
The wine wobbles in my grasp, and it takes everything in me to remain upright. I leash my emotions before they spool out onto the plane and ruin the meal.
“My betrothed died, if you recall,” the king says tightly.
“You were both eight. It was a tragedy, but it is also history.”
The servants’ door swings open. Lila enters, carrying two heaping, steaming bowls of stew that smell of rabbit, carrots, and onions.
“Have you heard the nursery rhyme about Daisy?” the king asks.
Daisy.The name strikes me.
A memory bubbles up from the depths of my mind, Jeremee and I and other faerie children grasping sweaty hands, running around in a circle in the common room, chanting the familiar rhyme:Daisy, Daisy—in the springtime you grow, in the summer you glow. Daisy, Daisy—winter is here, beware the snow! Daisy, Daisy—why did you go? Poor, poor Daisy—don’t you know flowers freeze in the snow?
Daisy was a real fae child who had died. A deep horror washes over me.
“I’m seeing Lady Kassandra again soon,” the king says. “It would be the first royal marriage in a millennium that isn’t between two Reign fae. It is not a decision I take lightly.”
“If you fear the dilution of Reign blood, you could always wed Rose Tunes.”
“We are second cousins. Again, would that not risk the health of a child more?”
“Your parents were first cousins, and they created the most powerful fae in our history.”
Another pause.
“You have no heir, Your Magnificence, no wife to give you a legitimate one, but you know it’s not just about legacy.” Hector drops his spoon in the bowl, splattering the cloth. “When you graduated to your father’s spot on the Council of Keepers, you left your heir seat empty. There is no pregnant Heart to fill in, either. Illusion and Death still have all three votes, while we only have two.”
“Healing has just a head and an advisor like us, and when the old Lynx of the Lowlands finally dies, then Illusion will also only have two votes. No House has an heir seat anyhow, except for Death. That is why I did not wed before. It’s time to see what the other Houses are willing to give to breed their blood into the royal line.”
The Council of Keepers…is real. I’ve only heard the rumors that one may exist, a voting body between all four Houses, but when and how and where it’s held, no one but the Keepers knows. Not even the Hearts.
“There are worse brothers-in-law than your oldest friend,” Hector is saying.
Dominik.The hairs on the back of my neck rise.
“What I find odd, Uncle, is that you do not promote a union between your two bloodlines. What is your hesitation with a Healing wife?”
“You already have their loyalty, and I can influence their vote. They are traditional and immovable in their morals.”
“So you agree. Dominik is an uninhibited heir, and may be a worse head,” Maxian says, then waves. “More wine.” I approach, legs shaky, and pour for the king as he continues. “Illusion is having a moment of prosperity and ambition, much to his influence. But bringing him within arm’s reach of the royal Reign family may only encourage the sharpening of his claws.”
“But don’t you see,” Hector says. “Drawing the wolf closer means its hide is within range of your whip.”
“Who would fill his place if anything were to happen?”
