“So, you’re choosing denial?” Oclanna asks. “Even though my sister and her husband were killed with a dagger that could only be made by fae hands? Even when the stench of your mind-magic littered the scene of the crime? I know your twisted ways, fae. You stupefied them in their sleep before you struck.”
Ah, so Alastor and I really are being framed. I shift my eyes over to Morgana. There’s a slight furrow between her neat eyebrows, but I have no idea what it means. She looks like her mother—right down to her haughty expression. No doubt this woman is just as careless and foolish as her parents. Damn them all, and their silly accusations.
“If I were to kill the rulers of Trova, I would not be so foolish as to strike them in the most conspicuous way possible. Since my reputation precedes me, I shouldn’t have to point out that if I’d wanted them dead, they’d have died without me leaving a single trace.”
I find myself addressing Morgana more than her aunt, hoping my words sink in. To her credit, she keeps her face still. Where did she learn to construct such a flawless mask?
“Your Highness,” Oclanna turns to her niece. “Even before you are officially coronated, you have the power of decision here. Give the order, and let him be executed for his crime. The people of Trova will have their justice for this terrible wrong, and we can have our closure.”
I watch the princess carefully. I know she will want her revenge. I wonder if she realizes that giving the order is a very different thing from carrying it out. If these people think I’ll go docilely to my execution, they really don’t know me at all.
“No,” she says, the word ringing out through the room.
Oclanna’s eyes widen. “Idowant justice,” the princess says. “But that takes time. He must have a trial, so the evidence can be examined properly. If he is proven to be the killer, he will be punished accordingly, but Filusia has been our family’s ally for generations, and I won’t throw that away without due cause.”
Smart.
Her aunt looks disturbed, but she can’t argue—not when she already stated it was the princess’s decision. All the same, Oclanna’s realizing she’s just handed a sharp blade to a little girl. But I suspect the princess’s decision has little to do with childlike ideals of mercy and fairness. I caught it there, in her eyes, as she looked at me just now—the same flicker of hate I saw in the tavern. She wants me dead, just in a way that won’t provoke war with her neighbor. Smart.
If I’m given a fair trial, my grandfather is less likely to feel provoked, and she can order my execution without fear of retaliation. A king and queen are dead, and Trova will need its blood payment.
“Morgana,” Lady Oclanna says, sounding ready to argue with the princess.
“There’s something else you should know,” the young woman says to her aunt. “Back at Gallawing, it was reported to me that you apprehended Prince Leonidas and the sole companion he arrived with. But I happen to know for a fact the prince was traveling with several more fae.”
Ah, so she does recognize me.
She gives me a look like she knows exactly what I’m thinking.
“He was?” Lady Oclanna looks over at me, her eyes narrowed.
“Yes, and the fact that he hasn’t spoken of them concerns me,” Morgana continues. “Where are they now? Holding the prince until his trial will allow us some leverage to ensure there aren’t more rogue agents running around, causing trouble.”
What was she doing running from those guards?I ask myself. Just a naughty princess playing truant? I may never know, but I know I’ve made an enemy in her…and that’s starting to look like a serious problem. She’s interfering with my important plans—the ones I actually care about. I need my unit free to do their job, and that means focusing this court’s attention elsewhere.
“I’m afraid you must be misinformed, Your Highness,” I say, weighing my options.
The princess glances at her aunt, a look passing between them I suspect means they’ll discuss this more later. Then she levels her gaze at me.
“I don’t think so, Nightmare Prince. But no matter. I shall see you at the trial.”
The guards close in before she can see me smile as they drag me back to the dungeons. How adorable, that she thinks I’ll wait around for her farce of a trial. There are clearly enemies of the fae lurking in this palace, and I’d rather prove my innocence from the comfort and safety of my own kingdom.
I may be known as the Nightmare Prince, but the humans seem to have forgotten I have another power. And once I bring that to bear, I won’t be sticking around.
Chapter7
Leon
Back in my cell, I focus on the stone floor beneath my feet, calling down to the earth lying below. There’s a point where the cold iron bars of the gate meet the dark, compact dirt. My magic worms its way under it, making the earth quiver, drawing it away from the metal.
The sensic powers are what humans fear from the fae, but we all wield terrial magic too, just like the humans. Waiting until I was back in my cell to use it was just more practical—fewer throats to cut, less fallout with my grandfather—plus they kindly took my irons off when they locked me back in here, leaving just the bars of the cell to dampen my magic. That’s what allows me to use my earth-magic to separate the earth beneath the gate posts a few inches more.
Working this slowly and painstakingly is hardly my style, but I don’t want to exhaust my magic, which I can admit is draining quicker having to fight against all this iron. Still, it shouldn’t take much more.
I finally split the last of the earth beneath the post, causing the metal to sink downward and the gate to bend forward off its hinges with a groan. It’s louder than I would’ve liked, and I curse the god Classitus’s fickle ways when I hear guards approaching. I manage to climb out past the crumpled iron before three humans come hurtling into the room.
The nearest one’s eyes immediately dart up toward the torch in a bracket on the wall. He crooks a finger and the flame flares, arcing toward me, but this is hardly my first time fighting an incendi, and fae reflexes will always win against a human’s. Rolling forward, I make a beeline for his colleague. Her eyes widen and she lifts her sword, but I stay just shy of its tip while hovering close enough that the incendi can’t turn his magic on me without risking injury to his comrades. Meanwhile, I’m already summoning my counterattack.
