“Many centuries ago, I sired a child that did not form in a mother’s womb but emerged from the earth itself. He commands the very clay that birthed him. With it, he may restore the Death Bringer’s hands.
Adriel.
The silver god’s son. Was it really that simple?
I opened my mouth to ask Gninou how the royal guard was meant to reattach Morta’s hands, but he was already dissolving into wisps of pure moonlight, which were being pulled back into the cracks of the bark.
“How?” I called after him.
But Gninou’s face had become distorted, finally shattering into a burst of glittering dust.
The clearing stilled, the forest falling silent. The wood nymphs had long disappeared, and no breeze rustled the yew’s leaves. Even the moonlight seemed to have ceased its wild dance, beaming innocently through the gaps in the branches.
I glanced at Kaden, and my blood went cold. He wasn’t staring at the spot where Gninou had disappeared. He didn’t look surprised or angry or even intrigued by the information the silver god had shared.
Kaden was already staring atme, a look of pure devastation in his eyes.
Chapter
Twenty-Four
LYRA
“Why did he say that?” I asked, studying his expression. “If you insist on making her yours, you will never wear the crown.”
I pitched my voice low in imitation of the silver god, but Kaden shook his head. “He talks in riddles . . .”
“But you know why he said it,” I accused. “You know why you can’t have meandbe king.”
Kaden sucked in a breath, wincing as his eyelids fluttered closed. For a long moment, he didn’t speak. Then, he said, “Yes.”
His voice was barely a whisper, and yet I flinched as though he’d shouted. “Why?”
I hated that my voice cracked —hatedthat I was already mourning the loss of him. For I knew that what he wanted more than anything in this world was to take the throne of Anvalyn.
“Because my cousin knows me better than I know myself,” Kaden muttered, eyes flying open as a muscle inhis jaw flexed. “Because he foresaw something that I, frankly, did not see coming.”
“Caladwyn?” I asked, thinking back to the fair-haired fae. “What’s Caladwyn got to do with this?”
But I already knew. At least I knew part of it.
When Caladwyn had caught me in his study attempting to steal the cipher, I’d struck a bargain with him.
Should you ever visit my homeland, you shall not set foot in the Quartz Palace.
It was an agreement that had seemed meaningless at the time, though I had been puzzled by Caladwyn’s condition. Kaden had been furious when I’d told him about the deal I’d made, but he’d later dismissed it.
“The bargain,” Kaden choked, confirming my worst fears. He sighed and dragged a hand through his hair, staring off into the distance. “At the time, I wasn’t sure why he would ask you to make that agreement. I thought, somewhat naively, that he might simply be hedging his bets just in case you turned out to . . . mean something to me. He couldn’t have known that we were mates. EvenIdidn’t know it then.”
“But why does it matter?” I asked, my anxiety mounting. “What is the significance of the Quartz Palace?”
I knew the Quartz Palace was the royal seat in Athelby. Sorsha had said their mother was married there, but Kaden had spent most of his time at the Forest House rather than at court.
“It is significant because every fae royal in the history of Anvalyn has been crowned there.” Kaden hesitated, chewing on the inside of his cheek. “Traditionally, they are wed on the same day as their coronation.”
I shook my head, still not understanding. “It’s not as if we’re planning on getting married,” I choked.
“Perhaps not,” said Kaden, his voice soft. “But if I am to challenge my uncle for the crown, it will mean a bitter, bloody war between my people and the Euroshean forces. That is, if the Drathen army will stand behind me.” He took a breath. “The only way to avoid civil war would be for Alfrigg to abdicate and for Anvalyn to accept me as the rightful heir. As the son of Semphrys, it seems . . . unlikely. The only thing working in my favor is that Alfrigg has yet to take a queen, so he cannot produce an heir to secure the royal line.”
