Idrag my fingers along the balcony railing as I meander toward Esyllt. The massive wall of ice, summoned by that Fallen girl, practically glows in the darkness. Despite the distance, a dreadful chill emanates from it. A cold fury settling deep in my bones.
It was foolish to think Esyllt could handle her children. The only reason this wasn’t a complete catastrophe is because she’s scarred them so irreparably, they can barely function.
And she cost me my daughter in the process.
Not that it matters much—surely, I’ll have another. With luck, the next one won’t be so cunning.
Apprehension spiders along my spine. Esyllt’s spawn may be foolish wretches, but Owena could be problematic. The curse that binds her is one of my best, but if she somehow finds a way through its loophole… the fallout could be devastating.
Esyllt looks over at my approach, her face twisted in deep-seated anger.
“What do you want?”
I shrug, keeping a casual demeanor. “It would seem you have quite the mess to clean up.”
She scoffs. “Taran’s proven his cowardice—he doesn’t have what it takes to keep his throne from me. And Caeo’s practically useless. They’re hardly a threat.”
“On with the war, then?”
There’s no point in waiting any longer. My armies have been gathering at the border while I attended this miserable wedding. They simply await my orders to strike against the Forsaken Lands—if anything, the wedding’s disruption and loss of our heirs at the hands of a Fallen could rally the support of the people.
Esyllt’s lips curl into a thin, crimson smile as she nods.
Finally.My gaze turns back to the ice wall. Beneath it, a colossal black scar, seething with rage, blights the entire hillside. The Fallen will suffer the ultimate price for their desecrations.
“Then I’ll be heading back to Ystyr. Best of luck wrangling your children.”
Esyllt raises her brow. “You won’t be joining your troops at the front?”
I laugh. “Of course not. Waging war against the Fallen is dreadfully boring. I’ll be enjoying it from the comfort of home.”
I can barely stand another moment here; it’s far too cold, and with my strength diminished from being out of my realm… If Owenaisplotting a betrayal, it would be best to have my full power. It stings that Esyllt has put me in a position where I even have to worry about that.
“It should only take me a few days to return home by Anwen’s Tears. I’ll send word to my generals and have this war begun by week’s end.”
“Then I’ll set out for the front tomorrow.”
I tilt my head. “Really? You won’t wait and see if your soldiers return with your wayward children?”
She presses her mouth into a narrow line. “I’ve ordered them to kill them both. It doesn’t matter if I’m here or not.”
No—there’s more to it. Her darting eyes betray her.
She’s afraid.
If her soldiers fail to kill Taran, her safest option is to put as many of her people between him and her as possible. He’s proven he won’t risk their lives.
Alas, it does me no good to point that out. So I bid her farewell and retire to my room. Once morning comes, I’ll leave this horrible place and return home. After twenty-one long years, we’ll continue our vengeance on the Land’s behalf.
Surely, She approves.
* * *
