Prince Odgar of the Kingdom ofUldarvik
Laughter escapes as I imagine a brute of a man with a metal helmet, wooden shield, and furs from head to toe charging into our ballroom with a loud war cry. I clear my throat to cut off the laughter and continue reading.
Lord Bevin, Duke of the Outer Isles
I don’t know a thing about this man.
Lord Jamie, Duke of Darragh
My eyes widen. Wynn’sfather,Lord Jamie, is one of my suitors? I grimace and move on to the last name on the list, and perhaps the most confusing of all.
Lord Commander Rheon of Bayenbar
No fancy noble, but certainly a formidable and influential presence in Erleya. Five years ago, Lord Commander Rheon oversaw the most memorable mass flogging in the public square right outside of Paramount’s gates—a warning to the rebels. I can still see his eerie indifference as he stood on the scaffold, ordering the mutilation of dozens of people. Rebels, yes, but people, nonetheless. People who fight back against innocents being arrested for owning a nice dress.
I restrain a shudder and chuck the list aside. Every single one of these suitors is awful.
Not a surprise.
My mother is asleep again when I visit her, Callum by my side. Iywan stands at the window, staring off into the distance. He turns to me as soon as I enter, his lips drawn down.
“No change?” I ask softly.
He shakes his head and steeples his fingers together in front of his body, the picture of composure. The tension in his shoulders betrays him. “No change.”
I’m rooted to the spot in front of the door. Part of me wants to turn and walk out—I want to pretend that sheisstrong, and awake, and busy with the ins and outs of court life. But I fill my lungs with air and force myself to take a step toward the bed. “I brought her favorite book again,” I say, lifting the tome with both hands. “I’ll read it to her anyway. If she wakes later, let her know that I was here.”
Iywan smiles. “I will.” He gives my shoulder a reassuring pat as he passes me, and I’m thrown right back into my childhood. To the time I’d tripped on a loose stone in the garden and fallen, scraping my knee. Iywan had been at my side in seconds, comforting me and even accompanying me to the infirmary to be bandaged. These days, it’s easy to forget that side of him.
What happened?
As the door shuts, I pull up a chair close to my mother’s bed and set the book on the mattress. Opening to where she’d last fallen asleep, I continue the tale of “The Enchantress Queen.”
Enidwen continued to endure eternal days in the Otherworld, barely containing her boredom while craving something greater. She traveled to the Hallowed Hollow and chiseled an azurite from the wall of the cave. With eager anticipation, she awaited the autumn equinox when the Veil was thinner. When she approached Caedmon, there wasnothing but love in his eyes. Yet as much as she bore the same love for him, she loved her possibilities even more.
On that day, she plunged a dagger into the heart of her beloved.
From across the Otherworld, growls and snarls arose, the ancient beasts awakening. A rift was torn in the Veil, and Enidwen escaped back to the mortal realm.
Time was very different in the mortal realm. While Enidwen had been in the Otherworld for a few years, her siblings had advanced drastically in age and her parents were long dead. Mortals, she realized, had become even more egotistical, the never-ending rivalry of Magekind versus Ordinaries intensifying. Enidwen traveled through the realm, putting her newfound Otherworldly powers to use—dazzling the masses with spectacular displays of light and magical fanfare. Followers bent a knee to her everywhere she went.
Still, it wasn’t enough for Enidwen. She sought to rule the kingdom, to overthrow the fire-wielding king. She stormed the castle, her followers in tow, taking the throne by force.
Other kingdoms rose up against Erleya, but Enidwen couldn’t be stopped. She sought ultimate power, poring over ancient texts and hunting for magical talismans to strengthen her ever-increasing powers. She explored runes, symbols, and the dark Underworldly powers of the Fallen Ones—the Underlings within Lugda’s realm of the dead.
On the day of the solstice, she stood before the masses, a magnificent crown of fire upon her head, a spear of shadows in hand. She drew runes in the soil, encircling herself as she called out loudly in the Ancient Tongue.
Callingforth the Underling Prince.
The skies turned dark, the sun blood red. The earth rumbled, and ice spider-webbed across the land. Screams arose from far and wide, terror filling the air.
Up from the depths rose not a monster, but a humanoid figure. He stood just outside of the Enchantress’s warded circle, golden eyes shining with satisfaction even as vines of darkness kept him bound.
Enidwen dropped onto a knee, bowing her head, her shadowy spear and fiery crown dissipating. “Great Underling Prince,” she called. “Grant me unlimited power and I will release you.”
A grin spread across the Underling’s face, two rows of pointed teeth morphing his perfect humanoid features into something beastly. Yet Enidwen looked into his eyes and saw opportunity. She matched his grin and stood to her feet as the Underling Prince nodded.
“Release me and I shall grant you unlimited power.”
