“You are not the first to want me dead. Though I think this is the closest anyone has come. Enya tried, you know.”
Numbness spread through my lips as I prepared for whatever lie the king prepared to spew, whatever excuses he was about to throw my way. For however he thought he could trick me into sparing his life. But there would be no trial. Not for this monster.
“You’re a murderer,” I breathed, the words coming out quieter than I wished. “You sold your own people to keep the ashen off your shores. To keep your more valued citizens, your priests, your soldiers, your scholars, shielded from the atrocities in the north. You’re despicable. A pathetic king, not worthy of the title.”
“A king must make choices,” Saros said, blood dripping from the corner of his nose.
“Lyvia…” another warning from Kresida as my powers tightened on the king, the fortissa chains twisting and constricting around his chest.
“Everyone makes choices,” King Saros stressed through an airy breath. “We must all live with them until we live no longer. I’ve endured thousands of years with my choices. More than any one man should. But I would do anything to save my people.”
My gut twisted alongside the darkness in my veins. Bayne had said something similar.
“Liar,” I whispered.
“What reason do I have to lie to you, Lady Cantor?”
I paled at the title, and realization crossed the king’s face in a flicker.
“And how was the Horse Lord when you saw him?” he asked quietly. “I wondered if the rumors were true of your time in the Crystal Castle. I’d ask you, but I can read it well enough on your face.”
The king licked his dry lips as he studied the horror on my face. Small buds of tears formed in the corners of my eyes at the words and the accusing certainty with which he spoke.
“The nyxteria is beautiful, but it is deadly. Do you think you will ever forgive yourself? Is there anything left of the soul you’ve so permanently marred?” King Saros stared down at me with disdain. “We are not so different, you and I. The stone demanded Enya dive to the deepest depths of darkness before it bent to her will. It seems you have as well.”
Aeriden’s gaze burned against my face from across the room, but I couldn’t turn to him. How could I ever face him after what I had done? I had killed our father, killedhisfather.
“Before you kill me, Lady Cantor,” the king continued, coughing through the blood dripping down his nose, “consider what else Dark King Daimos brews in the north. Daimos has always sought their power. The very power that flows in your veins.” Saros’s blue eyes darted around my neck and my outstretched hands, now shaking against the power flowing from them.
“They will be back. They will come for them. The Bellators knew this and didnothing. Decided tohidetheir weapons. Selfish, rottingcowards, all of them. It was up to me.” He gasped now, his breath turning ragged. “Up to me to find a way. And if that meant a small sacrifice of our people, to keep our kingdom safe… We needed armies.Anyarmies to defend?—”
A shattered cry bellowed from the hall as Ronan stormed up the steps to the center of the large room at the same momentNerissa’s light burst through the back circular window, spraying the floor with a cascade of glass.
Nerissa ducked and rolled into the space as Ronan sprinted past me, screaming in devastation and wrath as he lifted his longsword above his head.
“NO!” I cried after him, cutting my powers off before he leaped into their path. The king barked in pain as his knees hit the floor, his weak body crumpling forward.
“Ronan!” Nerissa screamed as he shoved his blade through King Saros’s chest, the ancient man’s blue eyes widening as Ronan lifted him by the cuff of his robes and the hilt of his blade. The king coughed a stripe of blood across the ex-queensguard’s face. Saros slid his gaze once more to mine, wan mouth open in shock as the extended life in his eyes died. A crimson line stretched into a pool on the floor.
“What have you done?” Nerissa breathed as her arms went slack, watching Ronan, who stood between us, staring down at the dead king. His blade hung loosely from his hand as blood wept from its tip. Ronan’s bright eyes were dull as he raised them to meet Nerissa’s and then my own.
“Ended his reign,” he croaked, turning toward Aeriden and Kresida.
A look of shock passed over his numb features, registering who Kresida held at knife point. He ripped the white kingsguard cape from Aeriden’s back before he slipped it over his blade, ridding it of the king’s blood.
“Lyvia was doing just fine at that herself,” Kresida spat, eyeing me with irritation.
I ground my teeth, allowing my powers to flare in my palms, my eyes blazing with a rim of embers in defense. I refused to look at Aeriden, to meet his horror-stricken gaze.
“I heard what Saros said just as I arrived,” Nerissa started, stepping over the body and approaching us. “About what he thinks is coming…”
“And what Xenelpha said about the return of an enemy.” I bobbed my head, finishing her thought.
Nerissa’s eyes slid to Aeriden before turning toward Ronan. “What of the queen? Will she be able to?—”
“The queen is dead.” Ronan’s words were flat as he dropped the blood-soaked kingsguard cape and strode from the room without another word.
Nerissa’s keen Ravindra eyes scanned Aeriden’s black armor and the discarded cape.
