Keeper of Storms (The Fallen Fae #3) - Jenna Wolfhart Page 0,96
known it would eventually.
“High King Thane Selkirk, the ruler of this realm.” Lady Regan shook her head with a bitter laugh. “He’s alive, and he’s come to claim this city as his. Did you know about it? Did you know he’d come?”
Gritting her teeth, Mariel stood her ground. There was no sense in weaving her words. These courtiers already knew the truth of it. They just wanted to hear it come from her own mouth.
“I did.” She kept her chin held high. “I thought it didn’t matter.”
Lord Neil cleared his throat. “Mariel, love, you should have told us. This changes everything.”
Shock punched her in the gut. Her eyes met his across the room, though he suddenly seemed a stranger. She opened her mouth to choke out her words, to shout to the others that he knew, but then she snapped it shut.
It wouldn’t help. Pointing the finger at someone else would do her little good. They would be angry at her regardless of who else had been involved. It wasn’t as though she would have chosen to tell them anyway.
“He is not a good king,” Mariel argued. “He abandoned his kingdom when they needed him the most. He fled. Kings do not flee.”
Lady Regan pressed her lips together and strode across the floor. She settled a heavy hand on Mariel’s shoulder, reminding her that while they might have stood behind her once, they did not now.
Mariel did not hold the Seat of Power.
“Good queens do not hole up inside the castle while their city falls,” the lady said.
Angry tears flooded Mariel’s eyes. “I would have gladly fought by our warriors’ sides, but you stopped me from leaving my quarters.”
“Good queens are never stopped.”
Mariel’s heart thumped. The worst thing about it all was that the lady was right. “What is it you wish for me to do?”
“You need to surrender to the High King,” Lord Neil said, refusing to meet her gaze. “Raise the white banners. Call down the warriors. It is the only way we can ever move forward.”
“If I surrender, Thane will kill me,” Mariel whispered. “Is that what you truly want? The Dalais heir to die?”
Lady Regan let out a sad sigh. “Things have changed. Our High King has returned to us, and we must fall in line. He and his armies will burn this whole place down if we don’t. I won’t sacrifice myself or my people for your reign. You’re on your own, Mariel Dalais.”
34
Eislyn
“We must discuss Beltane, Your Excellence,” one of Lir’s many advisors droned on in the middle of the fifth meeting of the day. Eislyn stood beside the Emperor, bored as hell. He’d barely spoken a word to her, and the chains locked around her wrists once more.
Any hope she’d had of them reaching common ground was gone.
He hated her. That much was clear. The Emperor who loved his people, bestowing kindness and grace upon them. It was infuriating.
“Emperor Lir let out a heavy sigh. “Yes, the Hunt. I’m not certain it’s necessary anymore.”
The lords all turned to gaze at Eislyn. She shifted on her feet, frowning.
“I thought you weren’t sure about her,” a lord in deep mahogany robes said, peering down the table at her. “She looks the part, but…”
Eislyn ground her teeth together, her heart hammering. What the hell were they talking about? She knew all about the Hunt, of course. Lorcan had even seen one with his own eyes. Fomorians swept into Tir Na Nog from across the sea on their beautiful wings and murdered every fae they came across. They did it every year, the night of Beltane.
No one had ever known why.
And somehow, it had something to do with her? Impossible.
The lords ended the meeting shortly after, agreeing to think on their Beltane plans until the morning. Once they were back in the privacy of Lir’s chambers, Eislyn finally let out the stream of thoughts that had been building inside of her head.
“What were you talking about? What does Beltane have to do with me? How are you not sure about me? Why do you even do the Hunt in the first place? Do you really kill so many fae?” Her fisted hands trembled by her sides as the words rushed out of her.
Lir released her shackles and strode across the room, the tension in the room so thick that she could taste it. “You shouldn’t have been in that meeting.”
She threw up her hands. “You were the one who took me to it!”