Lorcan sighed. “Kill this fae immediately. She has committed treason during a time of celebration. Her life is forfeit.”
Shock slammed into Reyna’s gut. She itched to turn and face him, to search his eyes for the truth. Surely he didn’t want her to do this. She was his lover. Not his executioner. She’d kill for him. Of course she would. She’d done it before. But something about this was different.
With a deep breath, Reyna dragged her blade across the wood fae’s throat. The enemy collapsed to the ground in silence. Crimson fingers stretched across the carpet of grass. Reyna’s gut twisted as her trembling hand clutched her dagger. Several guards appeared beside her to carry the body away. To where, Reyna didn’t know. She didn’t care.
She felt numb inside.
The only thought in her mind was this: Lorcan had commanded her to execute someone in front of his court, and she had obeyed.
It had been his first task as a dual king.
* * *
Reyna paced in their shared quarters while she waited for Lorcan to arrive. He’d been busy with courtly business since his coronation that morning, and he’d barely spoken two words to her. The stunned low fae had been escorted out of the throne room, robbed of a celebratory feast. It was not a fantastic start to Lorcan’s combined reign over two kingdoms.
She couldn’t help but think of the wood fae’s expression just before Reyna had sliced her blade across her neck. Silent acceptance. Resignation. But there had been something else there as well. A smug self-righteousness. Pointed words meant to burrow deep beneath Reyna’s skin.
For so long, the Ruin had whispered similar things into her head. She was not the hero she wanted to be. She was the enemy. Reyna tossed her duty and honor into the wind to follow the follies of her heart. She’d sacrifice the world for one male. For her heart.
Shuddering, Reyna strode toward the window and flung it wide open. She leaned over the parapet and breathed in the cloying scent of the forest. Wingallock swooped to her side and perched on her shoulder. He’d forgiven her so easily for sending him away. It was like it had never happened. If only fae could be as easy-to-forgive as owls. Just pour the water into the stream so that it might flow beneath the bridge. Instead, they piled it up on top of themselves until they drowned in it.
“What do you reckon, Wingallock?” she whispered as she stared down the jagged cliff where the Tower of Thorns sat above the rest of the realm. “Are we past the worst of it? Is it only up from here?”
Wingallock hooted. He wasn’t convinced they were out of the woods yet either. There was still Molt’s book, of course. Reyna had taken it from the throne room and hidden it away from prying eyes. She wanted to know what was between those pages, and she intended to find out. Lorcan wanted her to drop it and focus on their future instead of their past.
But Reyna wasn’t convinced the past was behind them just yet, especially not after this day.
The door creaked open. Reyna smiled and turned to find Lorcan pushing his way inside. He stopped short when he spotted her, as if surprised to find her here.
“Long day?” she asked, smiling. “I suppose there’s a lot to learn about a new kingdom.”
He pursed his lips and closed the door behind him, not meeting her eyes. “The wood fae operate differently than the shadow fae. Did you know they don’t use airgead here?”
She nodded. “Yes, I learned that from Rhain.”
Lorcan’s forehead wrinkled. “Rhain?”
“Someone who helped me sneak into Molt’s army.” She took a step toward him. “Lorcan, are you alright? After what happened earlier? I know that’s not how you wanted to started your reign here.”
He shrugged out of his cloak and hung it on a peg beside the door. He still wasn’t meeting her gaze, a fact that did little to calm the nerves in her belly. She’d been on pins and needles all day, desperate to speak with him about the attempted attack.
“That was nothing,” he said as he reached for a goblet of wine tucked into a shelf that ran along the wall beside the hearth. “A few fae tried to cause problems and failed. You and the other guards stopped it easily enough.”
She frowned. “I’m not a guard, Lorcan.”
He poured the wine into a goblet and lifted it to his lips, his back still facing her. “You’re a Shieldmaiden. That’s close enough.”
For some reason, his words stung. Reyna had always taken pride in being a Shieldmaiden, but something in the way he said it made it sound like an insult or a curse.
Sighing, she strode toward him and wrapped her fingers around his arm. “Is there something wrong?”
He sipped the wine, his body shuddering. “No. It has just been a very long day. There is so much to do. So many pieces to move into place so that every fae inside this kingdom can find peace and happiness. Not just the shadow fae, but the wood fae as well. It is going to take some time for this to work.”
“Of course.” She stepped up close to him, resting her cheek against his back. The warmth of him seeped into her skin. “Is there anything I can do to help you? My father taught me a lot about what it means to rule a kingdom.”
He stiffened, slowly extracted himself from her touch, and stepped away. “I have plenty of advisors. For now, I’d just like some sleep.”
Reyna pressed her lips together, swallowing down the inexplicable hurt. “Of course.”
