“Yes. The realm you know as Landore.” Her voice hardens, her thin, dark brows pressing sharply down. “They were once faelands, but the Fallen desecrated them in their greed, their lust for power. It is our duty to restore them to their natural state.”
I hold back a groan as I lean against the window ledge. Asking questions was supposed to make things clearer, not spin the world even more.
“Is that what the Border Wars were? The fae… restoring the land?”
Mother nods. “With every win, we encroached further, freeing the Land from the abuses She suffered at the Fallen’s hands.”
Why is she talking about the land as if it’s a person?
Because that’s the most outrageous thing she’s said so far. I’m half fae, and the ground is alive. Makes about as much sense as praying to Fortune.
“What abuses?”
“Clearing forests to build cities and farms. Rerouting rivers to feed their fields. Stealing nutrients from the earth for their crops. Stripping the mountains of their iron and gold. Need I go on?”
“So… farming is evil now?”
Mother stands, her glare ramming into me so hard that my younger self would’ve fled from the incoming beating. “It is a violation. Upsetting the balance necessary for the prosperity of all.”
So basically, our entire way of life is an insult to the fae. Or, humans’ entire way of life, because I’m apparently not one. Just half.
Fuck.I could really use some long leaf right about now.
Her voice calms as she joins me at the window. “Everything you see has been given to us freely by the Land. We make our homes from fallen wood and stones crumbled off mountains by wind and rain. Our clothing, from the skins and furs of the animals we tend. We cherish and respect the Land, and in return, She gifts us our magic and long lives. Which She reclaimed from the Fallen after they betrayed Her.”
“But humans have magic—incanting.”
Mother’s face twists with disgust, a harsher expression than I’ve ever seen. She could be a stranger, anger flushing her rosy skin.
“The Second Betrayal. The Fallen, who coveted our gifts, wrested them from the Land in their ultimate act of violation.Thatis why incanting drains the life from everything nearby. Why the Academy of Incantation sits at the center of a desolate wasteland.”
The sheer vitriol dripping from her every word…
“Then why did you choose to live there?” I ask. “Out of everywhere in Landore, why live in the one place that offends you the most?”
Her lips curve inward before she answers, then her face relaxes into slightly less concerning territory. “Opportunity. Living there allowed you to attend the Academy and learn the secrets of incantation. That will be valuable knowledge in the war.”
My pulse quickens. “But the war’s over.”
“Not for long.” She runs her fingers along the edge of the window, and the smile forming on her crimson lips sends a shiver down my spine.
I step away on instinct. “But—people will die.” Like Reid. He just wanted to incant, not fight. How long will it take for him to get pulled in?
“Our losses are acceptable if it means restoring the Land to Her glory.”
Fuck.Pressure builds in my chest, compressing my lungs. What kind of person can be so casual about so much death? How is this person my mother?
What happened to my life?
“But I didn’t learn anything valuable,” I say, desperately stabbing for holes in her plan. “I failed out. I can’t incant to save my life.”
“You can’t incant because you’re fae.” She tilts her head. “And yes, I am disappointed with how little effort you put into your studies, but I’m confident at least some useful information permeated that skull of yours.”
Panic tightens its grip, sweat dripping down the back of my neck. “But we can’t go to war against my home.”
Mother’s eyes pierce into me. “Thisis your home.Theseare your people—not the Fallen. I am their queen, and you their prince.”
…Prince?
