“Is it war that you seek with the elvish territories or merely my throne?” I asked her.
“Neither,” she said staunchly.
“And what is Cedrych’s role in all of this? Did you send him as a spy? As a possible assassin? Were you waiting until he gained my trust only to have him murder me while I slept?”
She stood and slammed both hands on the table, rattling the cups and saucers. “I demand you halt these accusations at once. I had nothing to do with your parents’ death, and the betrothal was simply to repair his reputation with no other motive at hand.”
“But this is your wine,” I said.
“Anyone could have poisoned them. A disgruntled servant or another power-hungry royal. If I wanted the elvish territories, I’d have taken them when you were weak and powerless. Instead, I bolstered you up and endorsed your early ascension. Or have you forgotten who your true allies are?”
“I have not forgotten,” I said mildly.
“My husband, the late King Reginald, was fond of your parents, your father in particular. Your father loved our Cherry Blossom festival. Brought you and your mother every spring.”
I nodded, a fond memory, but I couldn’t let that dissuade me from the argument at hand. Was she lying or simply trying to mollify me? We assessed each other for a moment, silently weighing each other’s argument. I didn’t trust her but I didn’t disbelieve her either, which meant I was no further along in my discovery than ten years ago.
“M’lord?” A guard rushed in, looking breathless and harried.
“What is it?” I asked impatiently, for I hated to be interrupted during such dealings.
“M’lord, it’s the prince. He’s… he’s not in your bedchambers, sir.”
My senses sharpened immediately and I focused my full attention on the guard. “What do you mean he’s not there?”
“He’s missing, m’lord.”
The queen gasped, and I stood from the table, the bottom of my chair scraping along the stone floor. “Missing? What do you mean, he’s missing?”
“We escorted him to your bedchambers, m’lord, but he’s… he’s no longer there.”
“How is that possible? There is only one exit.”
“The bars on the window, m’lord. They're gone.”
Cold dread coursed through me as I glanced at the queen, her alarm reflecting my own. There were only two people in all the realms who could manipulate that metal. I was one of them. The other had been dead for more than a decade.
“Show me,” I commanded. The guard pivoted sharply, and I chased after him with the queen hot on my heels.
Chapter 20
Prince Cedrych
Ipaced the length of Vasil’s bedchambers with my heavy boots thundering across the stone floor while replaying the conversation I had with my mother in the parlor, angry at myself, angry at her. No matter how hard I tried to maintain my composure, she unraveled me every time.
Lost in thought, I didn’t hear the movement behind me until it was too late. Turning, I saw a masked figure approaching me swiftly with his gloved hands raised. Before I could react, both my arms were locked behind my back with my wrists restrained, preventing me from unfurling my wings or defending myself. Sorcery, no doubt, but it felt different from Lord Vasil’s magic. Darker, more sinister.
I tried to call out to the guards, and a cold metal bar, like a horse’s bit, was crammed into my mouth. It appeared out of nowhere. Next came metal cuffs around my ankles and a cloth bag over my head. Darkness enveloped me. More assailants filed into the room as low grunts and commands were uttered by voices I didn’t recognize. Then I was moving, weightless. A rush of air blew past, then the brief jolt of landing in what felt like a pile of hay accompanied by the smell of wet earth and horses.
The entirety of my kidnapping took mere minutes
“Godsdamnit,” I grunted, my speech unintelligible. I’d hardly even put up a fight.
The platform underneath me was moving, not the rolling cadence of a carriage, but the smoothness of flight. A wagon that could fly? These kidnappers must be fae, or have fae goons helping them. But how had that metal sorcerer bent the bars on the window? Only Vasil could do that. And every sorcerer leaves behind a signature mark, he’d told me so.
“Release me at once,” I demanded, but the bit in my mouth prevented my words from taking shape. “You’re going to regret this,” I warned, a futile threat.
“At ease, Your Highness,” said a deep voice, one laced with menace. “We don’t want to harm you. But we will if we must.”
