Brooding. It seemed to be his base emotion.
I swirled the contents of my own wine glass, listening to the two ex–King’s Guards bicker back and forth on different battle strategies.
Merrick rubbed his beard. “I don’t think we can trust anyone. We need to keep this between this table, and this table only.”
“The first thing we need to do,” I interrupted, not looking up from my wine glass, “is confirm my suspicion that Adara killed my parents.”
Lenna, from the other side of the table, winced. “If I use you as an anchor, Esmeray, would that be the fastest way to find what we need?”
I nodded towards the Oracle, and she settled herself back in her chair, one hand resting against her stomach. We had all eaten seconds of the delicious pasta and fish that Sparrow whipped up. Merrick and Lenna had both opted for thirds–the pair now looking uncomfortably full. Sparrow directed her next question at Lenna. “Do you think you would be able to get that memory tonight? Let’s get the confirmation that Adara is behind the murders of King Scottrell and Queen Elera and see if we can get any clarity on the spells or the book.”
Lenna nodded, her face a bit pale, but she stood up and disappeared down the hall, coming back a few moments later with the Prism.
“I’ve been practicing.” Her soft voice was laced with grief, her eyes never leaving the grey stone that she placed gently on the center of the table. “I had to check on some friends from the Slate Kingdom.”
“And are they alright?” Sparrow inquired, kindly giving the Oracle her full attention. Lenna did have a life before she came here. I wondered if she left loved ones behind when Merrick took her to the Opal Kingdom. The thought made my stomach clench. I had never asked, too wrapped up in my own shit.
Lenna looked wistfully at the Prism. “No. Well, I don’t know… I couldn’t find their thread.” Her voice shook, as if there was more she wasn’t saying, but the Oracle didn’t seem inclined to share.
Sparrow gently reached out her hand, grasping Lenna’s forearm. Speaking low, she noted, “The past cannot be rewritten. Although that is normally seen as a relief, when the past doesn’t lead to a future we hoped for, it can be difficult to understand. But you can always talk to us if you need anything.”
I hated myself for pushing, adding this to the list of things I would need to beg forgiveness for at another time, but I said, “Let’s look now. I want everyone to anchor–so allof you will also see what happened to my parents. The more beings that know the truth, the better.” I left out the part where it put them all at an elevated risk of being called traitors to the Crown.
I figured now was not the time to bring that up.
Around the table, Merrick, Laurent, Sparrow, Lenna, and I linked hands. Lenna inhaled deep and focused on the Prism. I sent a quick prayer skyward that this would work. I didn’t call upon a specific god, though I felt a cool presence at my shoulder for a moment.
Lenna exhaled and her eyes fluttered shut.
On the table in front of us, the Prism began to glow.
Chapter forty-two
The Prism
“Sheisourdaughter,Scottrell.” The harsh whisper came from the beautiful Queen. Her short, soft grey hair was curled away from her face, the first signs of aging showing in graceful lines around her eyes. Her wings, as white as Adara’s, but with longer, spiked opal talons on the tips, snapped shut behind her as she paced the royal bedroom. Dressed in a simple pearl and silver gown, the Queen was ethereal, but the light from her green eyes was gone–replaced with grief and fear.
The King sat in a lush red and gold armchair against the window, where the soft light of dusk was beginning to filter into the room. His dark hair was short, cropped close to his skull, a simple golden crown atop his head. He rubbed his face with his hands, both covered in intricate, wave-like tattoos that fluctuated with the movement. With a deep sigh, he slumped deeper into the chair and removed the crown, tossing it onto the low table beside him. His mate turned again and began pacing towards him, twisting the sleeves of her dress between her hands.
“Elera, I don’t know what else to do. All these years we dismissed Adara’s interest in spell books as an innocent curiosity. We should’ve paid closer attention.” The King reached out a hand to the pacing Queen, beckoning her closer to the armchair he occupied.
The Queen gave her mate a droll, flat look, but closed the distance between them–just out of reach of his extendedhand. “If Esmeray is right–and that is a big ‘if’considering her track record–the spell book needs to be destroyed.”
“It’s a part of our ancient fae heritage,” the King started, lowering his hand, his fingers curling into a loose fist. His blue eyes flashed. “It should be preserved for historians.”
“Fuck your heritage,” Queen Elera spat, her snow-white wings flaring out from her sides. “Those spells arekillingour daughter.”
“Then we take them away and lock them up someplace even Adara cannot find.”
“What about Esmeray?” Queen Elera took a step closer to King Scottrell.
“What about her? She’s soul tied to Commander Keerian whether we like it or not. Carra decided her fate as Queen on High. I say, we take away the book from Adara, and confine her to her room for tomorrow’s celebration of Esmeray and Keerian. Once she's had time to come to terms with her new position, we will help her come to accept the title of Lesser Queen.” King Scottrell stood and grabbed his mate’s arm as she paced in front of him again. Pulling her close, he kissed her, deep and slow, until her wings relaxed, and she nestled into his broad arms.
“Fine,” Queen Elera breathed, staring into the King’s eyes, a small smile playing at the corner of her lips. “We will tell Esmeray tomorrow–that it’s just a precaution.”
“Adara cannot know that we are moving the spell book.” The King looked down at his Queen, kissing the top of her head between her two dainty horns.
“Adara cannot know,” the Queen agreed, as the King led his mate to the large bed behind them.
