they’ve grown fearful. Of me, of what I might do, what I might know. To this day, the townsfolk concern themselves with protesting my coronation. They have for weeks, and my own blood hasn’t spoken a word in my defense.”
Emotion frayed the edges of her voice now. “I always thought our hate was driven by our differences. Byprejudice alone. I now realize the hardships my parents have inflicted upon your forest. They rescinded my grandfather’s law that gave you some sense of belonging.” Over the front of her cloak, she rested her palm upon the now silent dagger, considering her ancestors and what they’d think of her now, reasoning with a roomful of faeries. “That was partially my fault. And I’m sorry.”
Kestrel, who’d been twirling his staff again, nearly missed it and scrabbled to catch the shaft. His eyes widened at her apology. Then, he nodded vigorously. “Your fault, indeed. Your father’s law is no law at all, but the reversal of one. He only did it when he discovered your ability, because thinks you’re wicked.”
Murmurs arose from the crowd. Garin and Bastion exchanged glances. Kestrel did not take his falcon-like eyes off her, probably delighting in every nervous shudder passing through her body.
“I take the throne in two days’ time. I promise each and every one of you that if I am so fortunate to take my place upon the throne, I will do away with my father’s selfish restrictions. I intend to sit down with willing representatives from each group, and we will draft a set of Accords that protect everyone’s interests—”
The uproar in the room drowned her out, and she stopped, chest heaving. Some of the Fae jeered, infuriated, while others hollered in support.
“You’re out of your bloody mind,” Kestrel snapped, all aloofness suddenly gone. “Humans and the Fair Folk will never fraternize.”
“No, but we can work together to keep tensions neutral. To keep the peace, if a war is not what you wish.”
She knew it would make no easy task; organizing an interspecies meeting might prove a double-edged sword. As if guided by an invisible force, she marched forward and snatched Ophelia’s letter from his hand. Gasps of horror filled the air, but she wouldn’t stop now. She finally knew her path, knew what she needed to do—and not even Kestrel would stand in her way.
“If you believe keeping me hostage is the right thing to do, fine. I’ll rot. I’ll fade away. And then, Sinclair will become king. If there’s one thing worse for the lot of you than a Trécesson monarch, it is a Le Tallec. If that man becomes king, he will tirelessly rain bloodshed and brimstone upon you all.”
This time, silence followed her speech. The air around her was thick, and static energy seemed to flow through her body. As if drawn to it, Garin watched soundlessly, jaw clenched. Gradually, her pulse calmed, and she again shifted uncomfortably from one foot to the other.
She didn’t know what would come next.
Kestrel considered her for a long moment. “I see only one flaw with this picture you’ve painted of Darklings and your kind playing nicely,” he said, then drifted over to her. Then he leaned in close.
His breath tickled her ear, but she dug her heels into the ground and steeled herself to remain still. “You think I don’t know of your petty human affairs? I know you are set to marry the very Le Tallec boy you claim will ruin us!”
Lilac sighed in relief. It was his only complaint, and the solution was so simple. “That’s where you are wrong, Kestrel,” she whispered back. “I’ve let my parents and everyone else believe what they want to, but I’ll never marry him. Not upon my ascension, and certainly not afterward. The throne is mine, and mine alone.”
The head of the Fair Folk took a long, hard look at the princess. From across the room, so did Garin. With her messy chestnut hair peeking at odd angles from her scratchy wool cloak, small chin jutting out in determination in a roomful of Darklings ready to destroy her… all she had was the truth to weasel her way out of this one.
To her amazement, Kestrel blinked first.
“I haven’t a problem in the slightest with bloodshed, princess,” said Kestrel after the long pause. “But I agree with one thing. If the Sinclair boy becomes ruling monarch, it might be more trouble than what it’s worth… For now. You, my fickle princess, are the lesser of two evils.