Page 146 of The Fallen Fae King

My jaw clenches, and I duck my head.

I’m the King. It doesn’t matter that these Eternals are not nobles.

I never held the most powerful position in my court, but Daire showed me that I had a responsibility to everybody within my kingdom.

I have failed these vampires.

“I apologize.” I tilt up my chin. “You should have been missed. I was your leader. I owed you my attention. I swear, you have it now.”

Yara gapes at me.

Ahm whistles. “Laz wasn’t making up stories. His twin is everything he said. I don’t know whether to be excited or scared.”

What does he mean?

“If you mean all that, then you have my loyalty.” Yara crosses her arms. Her steady gaze doesn’t leave mine. “You’ll need it because the other reason that we are here is the Sun Games. It seems that you have been entered into them.”

“What are they?”

“Secret gladiatorial contests that the barbaric dragons put on only for certain silver elites within the guilds. They watch their captured enemies fight to the death for their entertainment, especially on special carnivals for days of celebration. Our deaths are their spectacle.”

My mind races.

I can work with this. Fighting is my strength, even with my magic suppressed.

I have spent my life training soldiers and fighting battles. It appears that these soldiers simply need some motivation.

My eyes flash. “But you see, I have commanded armies and kingdoms. By making me fight in their games, these dragons have made the fundamental mistake that will seal their deaths. I can win in these games, and I can unite us against the dragons. I am not like Laz. I can bring hope, but hope through our rage. We will use it to rise up, find my twin, and tear out this kingdom’s throat.”

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

Consort House, Shadow Court

Daire

“Dinner is almost ready.” I stir the simmering stew in the soot-blackened pot. The pot perches over the glowing embers of the hearth. “And you doubted my cooking ability.”

I take a satisfied sniff of the earthy scent of lentils, onions, and fragrant herbs.

Instantly, the smell transports me to the frozen forests of my homeland, sitting around with my Frost Clan.

This was the meal that I would cook for Bai, whenever the youngest featherglass member and my personal attendant was sick or injured. It never failed to cheer up the rascal.

I stir the stew again.

I’ve been drawn to falling back onto simple domestic things that kept up the spirits of my bandit army ever since Freya and I were sent to this cold Consort House in the palace’s shadow, maybe because it feels so much like being sent into exile.

A squat limestone villa, the Consort House is surrounded by an untended courtyard with nothing in it but a single ancient olive tree and wildflowers. In the past, the building would at least have been bright with frescoes of dragons on the whitewashed walls, but they’ve faded now, just like the sagging terracotta roof.

The house is as forgotten as Decima hopes Freya and I will be.

Liviana will be crowned in our place as Empress. She will claim the throne and power. She will enjoy our place in Aurelius’ warm, glittering nest.

At least, that’s what she thinks.

I glance at the pile of golden blankets and pillows that I have worked into a nest for Freya and me by the side of the hearth to keep us as warm as possible.

The Consort House has no bed.