The moment my boots made contact with the garden moored to the Pink Sea by hundreds of anchors, our guards scattered to the different lookout points of the maritime castle. Only two hovered over our heads,highover our heads. High enough to afford us privacy.
My father’s undereye circles marred his tanned skin, somehow making his eyes appear darker, as though his fatigue had leaked into his irises.
“Iba, can I ask why we need this alliance at least?”
“Let me worry about that.”
“I’m not asking for details.”
Iba glanced around him, then tipped his head toward the gazebo he’d had built to celebrate my Year of Flight, an architectural gem of white wooden lattice and powder-pinkdrosas.
“Make it rain again, Amara.”
Once we stepped inside, I lifted my hands, curled my fingers, and visualized a downpour. Threads of liquid magic swam through my fingers, making them glitter blue. I slashed the air vertically, and needles of rain followed my hands’ path, creating a din that would veil our voices from neighboring ears.
“This is about Kingston.” Iba’s voice was barely audible over the rustling petals jeweling the gazebo.
I hated Remo, but when Iba’s half-brother had been alive, I’d hated him more. “He’s dead . . . isn’t he?”
Back in my grandfather Linus’s day, it was fine—normal, even—for married fae to have multiple partners. What wasn’t acceptable was to bear children out of wedlock. Bastards were unequivocally put to death, even royal bastards, which had spurred Linus to lock my father into a marriage with his pregnant consort. Thankfully, the Day of Mist happened, and Iba was spared marrying Angelina, Kingston’s mother.
After Linus’s death, Iba changed the law about bastards, which had not only benefited Angelina, but also Gregor since his daughter had been born out of wedlock, and even though Faith was an adult by the time the fae world found out about her, thewariff’s child would nonetheless have met a cruel end.
“I’ve heard disquieting rumors, Amara. Rumors that he wasn’t executed.”
I blinked, the images of Kingston’s coup spooling through me like barbed wire, catching on the leftover scabs fear and horror had scored over my heart that day. Iba had been flying, and then he’d been falling, trailing smoke like a crashing rocket, while Nima and I had watched, powerless, from the Pink Sea.
Four years had gone by, yet the memory was still fresh and raw.
“I think Gregor hid him somewhere and is grooming him for a second coup.”
My heart came to a violent halt.
“Silas is trying to find out more. In the meantime, he thought an alliance with his son could keep us safe since Gregor’s affection for Remo surpasses his hatred for me.”
“Why doesn’t Silas look into Gregor’s mind?” One of thedraca’s powers was to read what hid inside our heads.
“Gregor would know we were onto him and would either move Kingston before we could get to him, or launch an attack of his own. I might be the king, but I don’t delude myself into thinking that I have all of my subjects’ votes.” My parents’ regime had the full support of Unseelies and Daneelies, but these two castes of faeries together only made up a quarter of the Neverrian people. “When Linus fell, many fae wanted to see Gregor on the throne.”
I chewed on my bottom lip, finally grasping the necessity and urgency of this engagement. “Do you think Remo knows anything? Has Silas readhismind?”
“Even though Remo looks up to Silas, the boy’s loyalties lie with his grandfather. But, Amara, I don’t want you to worry. I’m handling this, okay?” Iba stroked my cheekbones, which were prominent like Nima’s, a remnant of our Native ancestry. “Let me pretend to be a good father and keep the weight of the kingdom off your shoulders while I still can.”
“Pretend? You’re the best father, Iba.” When I was a little girl, and it was bedtime, Iba would put everything on hold and sit by my side, armed with patience and an endless collection of stories. My favorite was the one about the day he’d agreed to be linked to Nima through a brand that still flared on Nima’s hand and Iba’s palm every time her pulse accelerated. It was my favorite because it was the night he realized he was “a goner” as he liked to say.
“Even though I broke my promise to you?”
I sighed. “With good reason.”
“Come here.” He pulled me into a hug.
“Does Nima know about . . .everything?”
A soft snort rumbled from Iba’s chest into my ear. “I haven’t been turned into a houseplant yet, so no.”
I pressed away from him. “Nima would never kill you.”
“She might try once I break the news Faith will become your future mother-in-law. Promise to keep me safe?”
