This felt like someone trying to cast the blame on another who couldn’t defend themselves. I wanted to know why and what he’d come to offer me.
“That does sound like something Velika would do,” I replied slowly like I wasn’t entirely convinced but found it conceivable.
Serill pounced on my indecision. “There is so much we can share with you. Truly, we only want to survive in this land full of cruelty and lies. A false queen has risen to the Moroi throne. We would prefer you to sit on it.”
My composure shattered for a moment, and I froze. I knew Carmilla had to be stopped, and while I hoped that would be imprisonment rather than death, I would do whatever I had to for our people. But never at the end of this had I seen myself sitting on a throne.
And absolutely not as the puppet queen of the Fae—because I had no doubt that would be all it was. I may not have known much about the Fae, but everything suggested they were not the type to share power.
“I will not allow our past to cloud my judgment of a potential alliance, but I trust you can understand my hesitancy here.” I watched him closely, trying to glean any hint of how he was feeling from his movements and expressions, but the shadows made it so damn hard. “Putting aside the fraught history between our people, there is also the fact that I am the daughter of the Seelie King—and Erendriel isnotthe true king.”
It was Serill’s turn to go still for a moment; even the shadows rolling off his shoulders seemed to freeze. He recovered quickly and gave me a friendly but slightly condescending smile. “Young one, there is so much you don’t know of our people. Of what the Fae have been since being exiled to these shores.” His smile gained a shrewd edge. “Has the crown that rests on the false queen’s head been whispering in your ear?”
“There are many things whispering in my ear these days,” I answered vaguely.
“Such is the price of your lineage,” he sympathized.
I didn’t buy it. There was something about my bloodline that the Seelie Fae found useful—or feared. Perhaps it was the same reason Carmilla was suddenly interested in me marrying Demetri again. Once again, the urgency to get out of here hit me. I needed access to my mother’s journals and to the secret room I’d found with Rynn beneath Lake Malov. One of those things had to have the answers I sought.
“What exactly are you proposing?” I fixed my features into a mixture of concern and wariness. “I would not have my people hurt, and not everyone in this House is responsible for my current predicament. If you mean to break me out by the same methods you used in the outposts, you will only make me your enemy.”
“Queen Velika left many gaps in the wards here for us to come and go. I’m sure we can come up with a plan that would have minimal casualties while we retrieved you.”
And delivered me straight into the hands of Erendriel.
“And what of Draven?”
“What of him?” Serill asked coldly. “His fate rotting in the dungeons below is better than what he would face outside of them. Forget about themikin.”
Mikin. Traitor.
“I will need time to think on this.” I waved a hand at my surroundings. “Something I have an abundance of, currently.”
“Very well.” Serill bowed his head. “I shall return in three days to discuss this further and offer options for getting you out.” His form began to lose its sharpness before spreading into a more disembodied state.
“Serill.”
The shadows snapped back into a Fae form, and he arched a brow at me in question.
“If I learn that Erendriel has ordered an attack on any outposts or any Moroi while I am thinking this over, any potential alliances will be dead.”
“Of course, my young queen.” Serill smiled. “Not a drop of blood shall be spilt . . . for now.”
Chapter Nine
Kieran
“We’re getting close,”Desmond whispered quietly in that gravelly voice of his. I’d been a little surprised when both of Roth’s brothers announced they’d be coming on this rescue mission. It was dangerous and a little insane. Plus, neither of them were close to Samara. Granted, we had explained the crown and our concern that it had fallen into the wrong hands, but still, part of me had expected them to lock Roth somewhere safe in their fortress and chuck the rest of us out.
When Roth’s parents had announced that they’d also be going on this mission, I’d said as much. Imighthave phrased it in a poorly worded way that called into question their intentions. Actually, there was no might about it. While I didn’t remember exactly what I’d said, Alaric and Roth had both winced at my choice of words, and if those two thought I’d been too blunt, then it must have been something really offensive.
The Devereux clan was an odd one though, and they’d just stared at me with a predatory focus. “You might claim Roth now, but they were ours first.” Celestina, Roth’s mother, smiled at me in a way that had all my instincts on alert. “Our youngest does not love easily. The fact that they have not only found it but that the person they love has chosen them with equal ferocity issomething we will protect at all costs. You will not dissuade us from coming.”
At the end of the day, despite my scheming and Alaric’s near-constant research, it had been our antisocial and taciturn Roth who’d figured out a path forward to saving the woman we all loved. And hopefully Draven.
I was frustrated with myself over how quickly—and badly—I’d fallen apart. Samara and Draven were gone. Instead of keeping it together and doing everything I could to help them, I’d just . . . spiraled.
Sure, I’d done my best to gather gossip and call in favors, but at the end of the day, I’d had nothing to show for it. I’d promised Samara I’d always be there for her, but when it’d counted, I hadn’t been. She’d never been bothered by the fact that I was just a courtier. Not when we’d been friends . . . nor when we’d become something more.
