Lawrence swallowed. “We were afraid that if anyone knew the father was human, it could cause discord within the kingdom.”
“You.” Iris nodded to Evelina, then to Lawrence. “Created a child withhim?”
“Lawrence is the father,” Evelina said with a sense of finality.
Seretha took a step forward, assessing Lawrence. “This will not go over well with the Undine,” she said slowly. “Many of them fought alongside King Senna when he led the naval ships. They will not accept a human bastard.”
Evelina bared her teeth at Seretha. “Then get them in line.” Her patience was thin, her temper poorly restrained.
“Neither will the Aegis,” said Iris, stepping forward. She glanced at Cyprian, who nodded.
“The Aegis fought the rebels for years before the curse,” Cyprian continued. “They may be more willing to accept the child, but they will hatehimfor it.”
Lawrence bristled and straightened his spine. “In time, they’ll learn to?—”
“No one willlearnto accept you,” Iris snapped. She turned to Evelina. “Is he to be king? To replace Senna?”
Evelina shook her head quickly. “No one is replacing Senna.”
“This cannot be announced to the people with him still here,” Seretha said. “The only way the Undine will accept news of a half-human heir is if there’s no threat of a human king’s claim on the throne.”
Lawrence drew a sharp breath and took a step back. Evelina had been prepared for pushback, for disgust and derision. But humans and fae had once been the two essential parts of the united Valon Empire, a value she thought the council still held.
“No one is killing him,” Evelina snarled.
“Then we banish him to Crea,” said Seretha, as if it were a favor. “To be with the humans.”
Iris hummed her approval.
“And we waste one of the last few portals to Crea for this?” said Cyprian. “It would be better to exile him in the wildlands.”
“This is my home.” Lawrence’s voice trembled, but he held firm. “I won’t leave my home or Evelina.”
Annora stepped closer to Evelina, pressing her shoulder against hers. “We can’t just send him to a land he’s never been to,” she reasoned. “It would be cruel.”
“What was cruel,” said Iris darkly, “was the thousands of fae lives lost at the hand of the last human king.”
Evelina shuddered. If this was how they were reacting to a mere human—someone who had no power or Essence to threaten them—then she could only imagine what would have happened had she told the truth. A child of a dark god would have no place in this realm.
“We cannot blame the human for what Moros did,” Seretha conceded. “But still, he would be safer among his own kind. It would also be cruel damning him to a land where weknowthose who fought in the war would gladly drive a sword through his chest.”
Lawrence turned to Evelina, his eyes wide. “Evelina, please. Don’t let them do this.”
Evelina didn’t know how to protect him. She had never foreseen the council going to such lengths, the fear of the past still so deep in their hearts.
Perhaps it was better if he left—if this was the world she had created as a ruler. One so cruel.
“Those in favor of banishing the human, raise your hand,” Iris said.
Evelina closed her eyes. She’d always wanted their realm to be fairer. For each race to have equal say and vote when a disagreement arose.
She already knew what the vote would be.
“Evelina,” Lawrence pleaded.
She opened her eyes, her vision blurring with the tears that filled them.
Iris, Cyprian, Seretha, and Warrick had their hands raised.
