Reyna tore her gaze away from the carnage to find Lorcan watching her with a hooded look in his dark eyes. Pain roiled through her stomach, though she did not know what had caused it this time. Perhaps Lorcan. Perhaps the wood king’s brutality. Perhaps everything, all the horror and pain in their world.
She might not be able to stop all of it, but she could do something aboutpartof it. For once, Reyna hoped that Unseelie was real and that he was right. The wood king needed to die.
15
Mariel
“The Grand Alderman would like to see me privately,” Mariel said to a guard clad in gold-dyed leather. He stood barring entry to the Great Hall, along with four others. A rookie mistake, Mariel thought with amusement. The strongest number of guards was always six.
“We have not been informed of such a thing,” the guard muttered with an eye roll before casting her a curious sideways glance as he attempted to peer beneath her hood. “Who are you? You look familiar.”
Indeed, that was the point, though she did not wish to reveal her full appearance to the guards, not before she had her audience with the Grand Alderman. Some eager guards might get the wrong idea.
“A tavern owner from the slums,” she said as quietly and demurely as possible. “I have some important information for the Grand Alderman. It is about the Princess Eislyn. I know where she’s gone.”
Now, that got the guards moving. The one she’d been speaking to disappeared through the door within an instant. As the door opened and shut behind him, Mariel caught a glimpse of the throne. That old, ugly thing rose high from the very stone it had been planted into, gnarled limps and thorns twisting together like snakes. Still, she ached to sit on it, if only to claim the power for herself.
Aengus did not sit on the throne. He must have learned he could not, not so long as the High King lived. Thane would have to abdicate or die for another to claim the power from the seat. He was stuck until he figured out a way to take care of Thane.
A sigh slipped through her parted lips as the door shut against the view from within. The guards continued to stare at her, no doubt wondering who she was and what she had seen. Of course, Mariel had not seen a damn thing, but shedidknow where Princess Eislyn had gone. Even a fool would have known the answer to that mystery.
The door reopened, and the guard motioned her inside. “The Grand Alderman will see you.”
Aengus sat on an elaborate golden chair beside the throne, the plush seat of red velvet clashing against the ancient wood beside him. Gaudy and harsh versus purity. How could he not see the contrast? How could he imagine he belonged here?
He was an odd male, unlike any Mariel had ever met before. She’d thought so the first time she had laid eyes on him, and she thought it even now. His hair was a bright ginger that would suggest a heritage in the Fire Court, but the accent did not match. There was a strange slurring of certain words where the fire fae spoke in crisp, sharp tones. Every vowel short and to the point. Mariel had never heard an accent quite like Aengus’s even in her long years spent in Tairngire, a city teeming with a multitude of fae.
He wore pristine armor and a cloak spun from the most expensive silk found throughout all of Tir Na Nog. The golden material fell to the floor, rustling around his booted feet. It was a statement, one that was impossible to miss. Subtlety was not one of Aengus’s strongpoints. Mariel made note of that.
“My guard tells me you witnessed the princess’s escape.” He leaned forward, eyes flashing with greed. “Tell me where she’s gone.”
Mariel frowned and glanced at the two guards on either side of her and then at the lords clustered around the Grand Alderman. “I am certain that what I wish to say, you would prefer to hear it privately. Without audience.”
Aengus gave her a thin-lipped smile. “I did not find myself in this desired position by being thick in the head. I am certain there are many who wish me dead. You could very well be one of them.”
“That’s very clever of you. However, killing you would result in the opposite of my aim.”
He arched a brow. “You mean to say that you have no intention of killing me?”
“That’s right.”
“Very well.” He nodded at the guards, and then at the lords by his side, accepting her spoken truths. “Leave us be.”
Several of the guards frowned but they did as they were bid by their “king” in command. They quickly exited the Great Hall, leaving Aengus alone with the former would-be queen. If only she could kill him now, hidden behind closed doors. There was nothing anyone could do to stop her. Aengus wouldn’t be able to fight her off if she jumped at him with blades. He wore that rapier, but she had a hunch it was purely ceremonial. Another statement, a symbol of the power he pretended to yield. In the end, he would fall, just like pretenders always did.
But no, she could not kill him. Her god did not look kindly upon kingkillers, even ones who weren’t blessed by seats of power.
“Explain yourself then,” he said, lounging back in his gaudy chair, crossing one leg over the other. “What couldn’t be said in front of the others?”
Mariel smiled and pushed back her hood, revealing her new head of cascading silver hair. Aengus, to Mariel’s great satisfaction, sat up straight, his spine as taut as a ship’s mast. He leaned forward, squinting. “Am I seeing this right? You’re a bloody ice fae.”
He didn’t recognize her then, even though they’d already met. Interesting.
“Wrong. I am an air fae. I’ve only made myself look like an ice fae. A princess, in particular.”
“You can glamour yourself? Does that mean you are a shadow fae?” Aengus asked curiously, and he did not seem the least bit alarmed. Not when confronted with the most dangerous type of fae in the world.
“I’m far more useful than a shadow fae. I simply dyed my hair.”
