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Kelaros and I will have a reckoning, of that I’m sure.

26

THRICE THE DEBT

THERON

Thalindor stands before me, his spine rigid as a sword blade, each wave of his disapproval feeding my rising anger.

The corridor can barely contain our tempers, and the healer’s guards stand at a distance, keeping a wary eye on us.

“You bend too much for this female, Your Majesty.” Thalindor’s hand rests on his sword hilt, fingers tightening around the pommel with each word. “You diminish yourself by treating her as an equal.”

Back home, he never spoke with such candor, but here, fear for me has stripped away his caution. He’s loyal enough to die in my defense, a fact I’ve never questioned, but how far would he go to protect the ideal of me?

Anger flares, and I take a measured breath, the Dark Sithe air rich with foreign spices. “Careful, Thalindor. You approach a boundary even you should not cross.”

“Someone must speak truth to you.” He steps closer, delivering the rebuke with discretion, even with the hallway deserted. “You allowed her to attack a Dark Sithe noble in front of witnesses. You defend her actions as if she were Royal. The other sithes will see it as a weakness to exploit.”

“What is there of weakness? She found my brother when none of our best huntsmen could.” The words come out with more heat than intended. “What would you have me do? Throw her to Nyctarian’s wolves as a peace offering?”

Thalindor’s nostrils flare. “I would have you remember who you are, Your Majesty. You are the Silver Flame in a world grown dark. If you tarnish yourself for a human witch, you risk not only your name, but our people’s faith.”

His words cut deeper for coming from the man who has been my confidant for decades.

But beneath the warning lies an assumption I can no longer accept. That Amalia is expendable. That her life should be weighed against my reputation and found wanting.

I abandon restraint. “We dragged her across the veil without her consent. We bound her to this quest to find my brother. And still, she ventured into a place where no fae has returned whole, all to fulfill a contract we forced her into.”

“She sold her services⁠—”

“After we backed her into a corner. Thrice.” I cut him off, advancing a step that forces him to yield ground. “We bade her uncover Lunaria’s killer or die in their place. Caelan kidnapped her back to our realm. And we left her trapped in the Opal Court while we accepted Nyctarian’s false hospitality. Three times we have abused her free will.”

Thalindor’s posture turns rigid, the gray stones in his ceremonial braid catching what little light filters through the corridor. “You speak as if we owe her a debt of honor.”

“We do.”

“She is human.”

“She is fae-touched. And now marked by a powerful court.” I gesture toward the chamber door, behind which Amalia is receiving healing. “She is becoming a Queen.”

“Of a dead court seeking to kill the sithes left alive. Which is all the more reason to put distance between yourself and whatever disaster she will wreak.” Thalindor shakes his head, concern bleeding through his disapproval. “Your Majesty, the Concord will whisper that your judgment is compromised, and that you’ve allowed sentiment to overshadow duty.”

A muscle in my jaw tightens. “Let them whisper. The crown does not ask permission to sit on the throne.”

“This is true, but it does not mean your actions cannot cause unrest⁠—”

“You have judged Amalia Wolf harshly since she first appeared, Thalindor. I fear your bias is showing.”

“Is it not wrong to wonder why your brothers and now you go to such lengths for this woman? You are King. Nothing you do is separate from the crown you wear.” Thalindor’s restraint begins to fray. “She is unknown and human. Little better than a wildling. Your attention should be on the princess of the Earthen Court, not a complication the sithe will never accept⁠—”

“Do not lecture me on the burdens of kingship, nor on my choice of companion.” The cold fury I have contained for days boils over. “I wore this crown while you were still learning to hold a sword.”

Thalindor stiffens as if I struck him, but soldiers on, loyal to the point of recklessness. “Then remember your station. Remember what you owe your people, your blood, your sithe. You cannot risk yourself for a human, no matter how intriguing you find her.”

“Why look to a princess of another court? Does not a King deserve a Queen?”

Thalindor stares at me, shock wiping away his mask of propriety. “You cannot mean…” He stops, swallows hard. “Your Majesty, you cannot consider…”