“But what about the Shadow War?” Bartholomew asked.
I was surprised he knew about that. It had happened sixty years ago, long before Bartholomew was born, and the humans didn’t generally concern themselves with us.
Bartholomew cleared his throat. “I’ve heard about it in my line of business.”
“Right.” I sighed. “It was discovered that the shadow court had been kidnapping people, ripping their shadows from them in secret. Then they struck, attacking Shiraeth. The courts met, deliberating on what to do while the star court and all its people were being killed. The leaders were afraid waging war would bring the spirits’ wrath down upon them. Eventually they decided it was necessary. The courts banded together to fight Sorrengard and banish them back to their island. But we couldn’t do it before Sorrengard decimated Shiraeth, killed all the people of the star court. It was a tragedy, and all we’ve done since is ignore that it even happened.”
After being destroyed, Shiraeth turned into the Deadlands, a place teeming with darkness and death. The courts walled off the Deadlands like it was just another thing to be forgotten about, like the star people had never existed at all. I’d heard their court had been a place of beauty. Silver and ethereal, from the trees to the water to the grass—everything glittered like stars.
“Then there’s the shadow court.” I picked at a loose thread in my chiffon. “Which clearly is more powerful than any of usbelieved. Our lands have been peaceful for so long by willful ignorance.”
“Still, peace sounds nice,” he said. “Better than our lands that are constantly ravaged by war and famine and greedy rulers.”
“It’s naive,” I argued. “It sounds good in theory, but when you’re that determined to keep the peace, you turn a blind eye to anything that’s not what you want to see.”
Bartholomew tapped his chin with his pen. “You think that’s what you all have done? What the courts have done?”
I thought about my father, how determined he was to honor Spirit Water that he refused to see the cracks forming in his own court. The way I was deeply unhappy. I’d even confessed to him that I didn’t want to rule, and he’d told me to never say that again. That I should be blessed I got this opportunity to be a queen. He was obsessed with Spirit Water, with honoring her and the gifts she gave to us, so obsessed that he neglected far too much.
“I know that’s what we’ve done,” I said. “The courts all have secrets.” I thought about Liliath, how her own father kept so many secrets that led to his downfall, led to her stepmother usurping him. About the frost court, who were famously distant and rarely appeared in the other courts. “We bury our problems, determined to put on a brave face, but all we’ve done is isolate from each other because of this. We’re not a united front, and eventually the secrets are going to break us apart. It’s not a matter of if. It’s a matter of when.”
“Wow.” Bartholomew breathed out. “That’s a lot.”
“Even though I didn’t want the responsibility of the crown, I did hope I could change things. I still do.” I thought of Queen Liliath, of Princess Seraphina, who would become queen to the fire court soon. “A new era of rulers are emerging that think differently than our parents, our ancestors, did. Together, I believe we can change the trajectory of our future. That we canmake the spirits proud while allowing for mistakes, for problem-solving.”
“If anyone can do it, Princess, it’s you,” Bartholomew said. He tipped his head. “Thank you for being so willing to talk with me.” He stood. “I’m going to eat now, and you better do the same.”
I jumped, realizing I’d completely forgotten about my plan. Spirits below. I looked behind me, the island still in view. “I’ll be down in a minute.”
He disappeared. The cloudy sky had darkened while we spoke, and soon it would be nighttime. I’d better hurry if I wanted to do this. It was time to walk the plank.
Chapter Twenty
Istrode toward that long plank in the corner and heaved it up, muscles straining and sweat building at the base of my neck. I took a deep breath and shoved the plank forward and out until it was hanging over the ocean, secured in the grooves of the cutout.
I’d never feared the ocean, not like the pirate lord did. I was a strong swimmer—and I had water magic, something that would prove very useful tonight. It wasn’t a foolproof plan. Things could go wrong, of course. But it was a calm evening, no storms on the horizon, the best kind of weather for taking a dip in the ocean.
I stepped onto the plank and balanced my way across until I stood at the very edge. My heart thundered, and I couldn’t imagine what it might be like to be here under duress, to know this might be the last breath you breathed as you stared into the dark depths of the sea. I shook my head. I was in control here. My father would remind me that as long as I had pure intentions, Spirit Water would be with me. Mal would tell me to really think this through before jumping. Lochlan would likely shove me in.
The ocean whisked by below, and I held out my hands, steadying the water so I could jump in safely. Once I made the leap, I’d direct the water to take me to Porth.
“What in the bloody hell?” Bastian said from behind, startling me. “You better not be about to do what I think you’re about to do.”
I whirled to see him standing on the main deck, fury rippling from him.
“You mean this?” I asked and stepped farther out on the plank.
Bastian jabbed a finger at the main deck. “Get back here right now.”
“You could make me,” I said, unable to help myself. Even better if he saw me jump. Then he’d know how determined I was to see this through. “Unless... you’re afraid?”
He ground his teeth. “You bloody well know how I feel about the ocean.”
I shrugged, taking another step backward. “I didn’t know if that was a lie, along with everything else.”
“I already told you?—”
He stopped as I took another step. “Don’t you dare jump. Don’t you dare do it?—”
