“Good queens do not hole up inside the castle while their city falls,” the lady said.
Angry tears flooded Mariel’s eyes. “I would have gladly fought by our warriors’ sides, but you stopped me from leaving my quarters.”
“Good queens are neverstopped.”
Mariel’s heart thumped. The worst thing about it all was that the lady was right. “What is it you wish for me to do?”
“You need to surrender to the High King,” Lord Neil said, refusing to meet her gaze. “Raise the white banners. Call down the warriors. It is the only way we can ever move forward.”
“If I surrender, Thane will kill me,” Mariel whispered. “Is that what you truly want? The Dalais heir to die?”
Lady Regan let out a sad sigh. “Things have changed. Our High King has returned to us, and we must fall in line. He and his armies will burn this whole place down if we don’t. I won’t sacrifice myself or my people for your reign. You’re on your own, Mariel Dalais.”
34
Eislyn
“We must discuss Beltane, Your Excellence,” one of Lir’s many advisors droned on in the middle of the fifth meeting of the day. Eislyn stood beside the Emperor, bored as hell. He’d barely spoken a word to her, and the chains locked around her wrists once more.
Any hope she’d had of them reaching common ground was gone.
He hated her. That much was clear. The Emperor who loved his people, bestowing kindness and grace upon them. It was infuriating.
“Emperor Lir let out a heavy sigh. “Yes, the Hunt. I’m not certain it’s necessary anymore.”
The lords all turned to gaze at Eislyn. She shifted on her feet, frowning.
“I thought you weren’t sure about her,” a lord in deep mahogany robes said, peering down the table at her. “She looks the part, but…”
Eislyn ground her teeth together, her heart hammering. What the hell were they talking about? She knew all about the Hunt, of course. Lorcan had even seen one with his own eyes. Fomorians swept into Tir Na Nog from across the sea on their beautiful wings and murdered every fae they came across. They did it every year, the night of Beltane.
No one had ever known why.
And somehow, it had something to do with her? Impossible.
The lords ended the meeting shortly after, agreeing to think on their Beltane plans until the morning. Once they were back in the privacy of Lir’s chambers, Eislyn finally let out the stream of thoughts that had been building inside of her head.
“What were you talking about? What does Beltane have to do with me? How are you not sure about me? Why do you even do the Hunt in the first place? Do you really kill so many fae?” Her fisted hands trembled by her sides as the words rushed out of her.
Lir released her shackles and strode across the room, the tension in the room so thick that she could taste it. “You shouldn’t have been in that meeting.”
She threw up her hands. “You were the one who took me to it!”
His answer was nothing but silence.
“If you won’t tell me anything, fine. All I ask is that you call off the Hunt this year,” she whispered, tears filling her eyes at the thought of the Fomorians murdering everyone she knew and loved. “You think I’m somehow connected to it. Well, I’m here now. Right? You don’t have to do anything anymore.”
He spun on his heels, facing her. His eyes flashed with a torment so great that it took Eislyn’s breath away. “You don’t understand, Eislyn.”
“Then,makeme understand.”
He closed his eyes. When he reopened them, the golden light speared her soul. “You ask about the Dionadair, the thing you call the Ruin.”
Hope formed a knot in her throat. She nodded, wetting her lips. Was he finally going to tell her something? Was he finally going to explain what the hell was going on?
“Dionadair means Protector in our tongue.” His hands fell heavily to his sides. “A Fomorian scholar named Dagda once left these lands to explore the world. He came across Tir Na Nog, and he gifted those lands with our magic. But that gift came with a terrible cost. He had visions of a time when that magic would turn dark, when an enemy would rise, twist it for her own aims, and destroy the very fabric of the world.”
Eislyn’s heart pulsed, and all the blood drained from her face. She had a strange, prickling feeling where he was going with this, and it shook her to her very core. “Her?”
