“If Aedan publicly abdicates, Guyan could create a new advisor position for him to make sure his interests in the kingdom are met.” She turned to me. “You could transfer your bond to the rose tree and your access to the King’s Library, and then be free of the burden of rule while still having the influence to control things you care about.”
She turned to Guyan. “You could take charge of the kingdom without worrying about usurpers fighting against what they perceive as treason or injustice because Aedan publicly made you king. You keep his staunchest supporters because he is still part of your innermost council.”
Guyan nodded slowly, but my face morphed into an incredulous look. “What could possibly make you think I would want to do that?”
Acantha had the gall to look surprised. “I thought you wanted to marry the half-fae? It would be ludicrous to make someone like her your queen, but if you were an advisor… I can’t imagine anyone would protest.” It was ludicrous for her to protest when she was just as fae as Callista, but I couldn’t point that out without announcing my ancestry as well.
“Jorlan!” A screech from below turned my attention. Lady Carmine searched frantically for her son near the exit. She must have been taking him out, but he ran off. I scanned the room and saw him climbing on top of a table, out of her sight, and eating a frosted pastry.
Next to me, Guyan laughed. “There you go, caring too much again. As a king, you must be separate, above. You cannot take the time to worry about an obnoxious noble and her baby.”
I faced him again. “The only obnoxious noble here is you.” Callista’s unfiltered words from months ago came to me again, and I knew exactly what disgusted me about my cousin. “Power means nothing without love for the people you serve. I am ashamed to call you family.”
I threw the fire at his feet, lighting his clothes on fire.
He laughed.
It was maniacal and twisted, and it made me wonder what he could find so funny about his death. Then…
My heart froze. I felt it stop pumping blood. Everything in my body tensed, and I collapsed over the table.
“Put out these flames, Aedan,” Guyan yelled, “or you will die with me!” Guyan and his cursed blood magic!
Would it be worth it? If we both died? Guyan’s treachery would be gone, but I would die too. I would lose Callista. And who would lead Hemlit?
Acantha.
One glance at her pleased face as she watched us both gasp for air told me this was exactly what she wanted. She had fire magic. She could have helped him survive my first angry attack.
But no. She wanted us to destroy each other. She wanted the throne, but she had never had enough magic to challenge me or my parents. Guyan and his power in blood had been her plan. Her very long-term plan. But even fifty years was nothing to an elf who lived thousands.
I extinguished the flames on Guyan the moment I realized he was a pawn. He released my heart an instant later.
I pushed myself up off the table and leaned on my arms while I recovered my breath.
Guyan brushed ashes off his singed layers of remaining clothes. “It seems,Cousin, we are at an impasse. Neither of us can kill the other fast enough to escape unscathed.”
I rolled my shoulders back as my body finished recovering from his attack. “Then, perhaps, you will be interested in hearing the epiphany I just had.”
He tipped his head at the same time one of the chandeliers broke free from the support beam in the ceiling that had held it. The stone fixture crushed the table that it landed on, and hundreds of crystals—still glowing with magic—fell out of the clasps that held them to the chandelier. My mind jumped to Callista, grateful she had agreed to stay in the corridor.
More elves screamed. How long did it take for a couple hundred people to get out of one door? Jorlan yelled, his pitch a little higher than the older people around him. Apparently, the broken chandelier distracted him from his pastries. His mother’s view of him was still blocked by lines of elves rushing at the door.
And I could not help the boy now. I focused on Guyan. “Did you look at Acantha while the two of us nearly killed each other?” Out of the corner of my eye, I saw her face blanch. “She could have helped you, but she did not. What happenedthirty years ago when your parents died?”
I plowed into him with more questions. “Why was she so keen to take you in? How much time did she spend planting treason in your mind? Why was she so happy to watch usbothdie a minute ago?”
I saw the doubts fill his eyes. He turned on her. “Why did you not help me when Aedan set me on fire? Why did you not slow his flames?”
His eyes were not the only ones to scramble for answers. I saw her decision in the tip of her head and the set of her jaw. She was about to change tactics.
The ceiling retched again, and another chandelier fell ten feet closer to the ground—this time directly over the table where Jorlan sat crying. It teetered recklessly, swaying from the cord that bound it to the failing beam.
And then I heard a voice that made my stomach drop. “Jor Jor!”
Callista darted out of the shadows and raced for the young child. My stomach turned in knots as I wished for her to get out of the Dining Hall, but also in relief as someone finally lifted that child out from under a moving death zone.
As she picked him up, another tearing sound ripped across the ceiling, and the chandelier crashed toward them.
