Page 29 of Veil of Night & Flames

“What matter?”

“Rebellion,” he says, his voice as dark as the fury in his eyes. “I shall deal now with those who moved against me, and my bride should be at my side.”

“Oh,” I say stupidly, as Finn’s hand goes tight on my arm. “What are you going to do?”

He doesn’t answer. Instead, he simply takes my hand, then casts his gaze over the room, his attention finally landing on Chase.

“She stands with me,” Adric says, loud enough that his voice carries. “Where the realm can see her.”

Chase steps toward us. “Adric⁠—”

“You as well, brother.”

Chase looks at me, and I nod. After all, this is my realm, too. And I need to understand all of it, including the king to whom I’m betrothed.

Finn is still holding my arm, and I turn to him. “Go back to your library. Please. Don’t you want to find Cassie?”

He blinks at me. The dreamy look is back, settling over his face like a soft fog. “All right, sweetheart. I’ll go. We’ll wait for you.”

We. My throat tightens, and I nod in agreement, because I can’t manage words without bursting into tears. I know it’s just his delusion, but I envy Finn for having Mom when I’ve lost her. And right now—with whatever political games are going down—I truly wish she were at my side.

She’s not, of course, but Adric offers me his arm, and I take it, then immediately feel more centered and less freaked out with his touch grounding me.

“Don’t speak,” he orders, his voice low. “Whatever happens, don’t speak.”

“I won’t.”

“Cora.”

“I promise.”

Chase follows one step behind as we walk out of the Great Hall side by side, with Scarface leading the way and the courtiers from the party following as we enter the courtyard, now lit by dozens of torches casting red flames to mix with the orange moonlight.

And there, in the flickering glow, six men kneel on the stones, their hands bound behind them. One—a man with his face cut open from cheekbone to jaw—sneers when Adric and I step near.

“My king,” the man says.

Adric tilts his head. “You haven’t been given leave to speak,” he says, releasing my hand, then ascending a low stone platform at the head of the courtyard. I don’t remember it being there a second ago, and I assume Adric conjured it. Or maybe the castle itself created it in service to the king.

Kali emerges from the crowd, then steps up to stand by Adric on the platform, her expression unreadable. She’s clad in armor now, and the metal catches the torchlight.

Adric glances at me, then indicates the lower level of the platform, on the far side, but still facing the crowd and the kneeling men. Chase reluctantly takes me there, then stands beside me, his hand around mine, as Adric remains perfectly still, letting the silence build until it is almost too much to bear.

“General Vorian,” he finally says. “You would accuse these men?”

ScarFace steps forward. “They have plotted against you, my king. I swear that my report to you is true.”

Adric inclines his head, then looks at the broad-shouldered man with the cut face who kneels slightly in front of his five companions.

That’s when I see Flame-head kneeling second from the end. His hair isn’t moving now, but I still shudder as I look at this man who’d stood among the honored guests. And who’s now on the cold stones with his hands tied behind his back.

How can this be my world? I’m supposed to be stressing out over pop quizzes, not worrying about plots to kill a king in his own castle. Or whatever the hell these captured men were up to.

“General Drakkar,” Adric’s voice fills the night, but his focus never strays from the broad-shouldered man. “You believe I have been weakened. That because my betrothed is from the Real, that gives you an opening to raid in my name without receiving my order. You believed I would not notice your treachery. That my attention was elsewhere.”

“No, my king. I only⁠—”

“Did I ask you to speak?”