Page 132 of The Fallen Fae King

I don’t understand why it’s so important to Daire, but then the candlelight catches on the heavy gold ring that I still wear. I inherited my ring from my own father, despite him wanting me locked up.

Did Daire’s parents fear him like mine and Lanlin’s did? Or did they love him?

As soon as Daire spies the ring, his expression becomes serious. His breathing speeds up, and he appears unable to look away from the warped bronze and emerald ring.

Then his hand moves like he’s about to snatch the ring from me, before he catches himself and stills. “Are you giving it back to me?”

I snap the cord from around my neck. “Of course. A king’s heirlooms are his own. Why else would I keep it safely against my heart? Hold out your palm.”

Daire mechanically does, and I drop the ring into his palm.

When Daire closes his fingers around the ring, he instantly clutches it to his chest, as if he’s shielding his Winter Court and not a relic of a world that doesn’t exist anymore.

“Thank you,” he breathes.

“What was your father like?” I can’t stop myself from asking.

Daire glances at me in shock, before his expression softens; he looks younger like this. “Reckless, like me. He was the most beautiful of the fae. He had a way of making everyone around him smile. He understood that a single moment of freedom is worth more than an entire lifetime lived underneath the yoke. He was the best king, and the best bloody da. And he died…” He breaks off. He traces over the ring. His eyes are wet. “I lost…more than you can understand.”

“I want to try.” For the first time, I realize that I mean it.

Shocked lavender eyes meet mine. “Aye, maybe you do.”

Suddenly, the door bangs open.

I grab a blanket and throw it over Freya to cover her.

“Who dares…?” I bellow.

“I’m sorry, Your Majesty.” Ignatius drops his gaze to the floor. He is sweating, and his temple is bruised. “But your uncle and some members of the Council have forced their way into the study. I couldn’t hold them back…”

I launch myself off the bed, straightening my uniform.

“Stay here and don’t come out, no matter what happens,” I command Daire and Freya.

Before they can complain, I march after Ignatius back into the study, slamming the door shut behind me.

Fuck, War is still at the barracks.

I have let down my defenses too much. I should have known that Maximinus would have seized this opportunity.

I glower in outrage to see Maximinus slouching in the seat behind my desk.

Aquila’s father, Cato Aemilius, is standing at my uncle’s shoulder.

Cato is tall and broad shouldered like his son. Despite being an Alpha, he has snow-white hair tumbling to his shoulders and lively gray eyes.

Cato would be pretty if he wasn’t such an ambitious fucker that he’d sell his own child for a better position at court. As a sycophantic supporter of my uncle, I should have known that his son would be heartless to my cousin.

“I’d have thought,” Maximinus pats the piles of papers on my desk, “that you were too busy with work to take breaks to get your knot wet.”

Cato chuckles. “Or did you think that your secretary here could do your work for you? My son’s Alpha is a disappointment. He couldn’t even greet Maximinus appropriately and had to be chastised. I have told Aquila over and over that trash from the provinces need extra discipline. My son deserves better.”

Ignatius straightens his back, jutting out his chin. “Maybe he does. I’m the dragon he’s bonded with, however, and as the King’s secretary and cousin, he should be honored.”

I am proud of him.

Cato blinks like he has no idea how to reply.