Carys. That name sounded familiar, even through the pain. I closed my eyes. There was a reason I’d been sent here, to this battle in this place, and separated from Dorian in the process. This was a trial, but of what?
Galenna’s fingers explored my scalp, bringing on fresh pain. “She took an arrow?”
“It took the horse right in the chest. The mare toppled, and the queen with her.”
I had no recollection of any of this. I hissed as Galenna’s fingers found the most tender part of the wound.
“I apologize, my queen,” Galenna said. “I recommend stanching the bleeding and stitches before anything else.”
A brief silence fell, and my eyes opened. I found both Galenna and Cirevan staring at me.
“Your orders?” he said.
They were waiting for me—formeto give orders. And I had no real idea who this man was.
Outside the tent, sounds of battle carried over the plains—the pounding of hooves and boots, screams, metal clanging. This was a bloody time, a crucial time. I was expected to lead.
I didn’t know the first thing about leading, about warfare. I only knew one thing—a skill I had picked up and honed during my childhood in the Dip, which I’d had to put to good use in the Sylvanwild Court.
Improvisation. I was the queen of that.
“Stitch it,” I said to Galenna. She immediately went to work with her tools, preparing to stitch my scalp. My eyes lifted to the fae standing above me. “The concussion has made me foggy. Remind me of who you are.”
His eyebrows rose. “Why, I am your second, my queen.”
“My second.” I rolled the word in my mouth. He was my second-in-command. As a guard, I understood that. “Give me an overview of the state of things, Cirevan.”
“Certainly.” He stepped to the table with the wooden pieces upon it. His fingers settled over the tallest piece, a tower. “This is our final and best assault on the Kingdom of the Plains, my queen. For years the humans have beset us with their sunlit iron, and taken your husband consort hostage?—”
“Sunlit iron?”
“Yes, Your Highness.” His brow lowered, as if he’d become more fully aware of how impaired I was. “Without the essence of the sun, their iron would have no power over the courts.”
Dorian had once told me that sunlit iron had vanished four hundred years ago.Carys.She had destroyed it.
“And my husband consort,” I said. “He’s being held hostage?”
Cirevan nodded, his finger sliding to a smaller wooden figure atop the table. His fingertip rested atop it. “Yes. He’s being kept here,beyond their innermost wall. They knew such a move would draw you out of Feyreign.”
“And it has.” I hissed as a sharp pain lanced my head. Galenna had begun her work with the needle.
“My apologies, Your Highness,” Galenna said.
“Keep talking, Cirevan,” I said, closing my eyes tight as the thread was pulled.
“It’s their final blow against Feyreign,” he went on. “It’s… how they intend to capture you.”
“What of the other courts?” I said through gritted teeth.
He hesitated. “They watch on. Should the Sylvanwild queen fall to the Kingdom of the Plains, the other courts will mass. They count on you holding the dagger.”
My eyes opened. “The dagger?”
His gaze dropped to my hip.
I carefully lowered my eyes without moving my head. One of my hands went to my hip, gripped a bone-white handle. I jerked my fingers away; it was painfully cold to the touch. Then, carefully, I touched again, drawn to the feeling. I unsheathed the weapon, and a dagger with a vicious curved blade came into view. It distended the air as it moved, leaving cold smoke in its wake.
Even here, on these warm plains, I could hardly hold it. My fingers felt as though they would freeze. And yet I could not take my eyes off it; the blade was as captivating as my own reflection, the first time I saw it in water.
