I couldn’t have asked for a better partner. “Yes, love.”
I move to get Quinn out of the carriage, but the soldier stops me. “Uh… One more thing you should know. The Day Realm king is here.”
My eyebrows furrow. My uncle has always refused to step foot on Night Realm territory. Whenever matters needed to be discussed, he sent a council member in his place.
“King Zarid is in Delaveria?”
“No. King Zander,” a drunk fae pipes up, stumbling over with ale dripping from his beard. “The pipsqueak finally got the crown.”
“Zander is king now?” I ask slowly.
Something isn’t right. I’m not unhappy to get a visit from my other cousin. Zander and I have only met a handful of times, but he’s a good man. From our talks, I know he wants more than just peace for our kingdoms—he wants prosperity.
Needless to say, he isn’t like his father.
But King Zarid wouldn’t just step down. I’m sure of it. In so many words, he’s told us we’d have to pry the crown from his cold dead hands.
“This is good news for Valora,” I say cordially. “Tell my men they’ve done well. There will be a banquet in their honor within a fortnight.”
“Yes, Your Majesty.” The soldier jogs away, taking up his post on the street again.
Extending my hand to Quinn, I help her down before scooping her into my arms.
She knows the drill. Wrapping both legs around my waist, she hangs onto my neck as we take flight.
Within minutes, we’re landing in front of the palace doors. Two soldiers open them for us, and when I acknowledge them with eye contact, they still seem taken aback by the fact that I can see.
Takes some getting used to.
Hand in hand, Quinn and I hurry to the great hall. Since it’s the largest room, I have to assume that’s where everyone’s being assessed.
And I’m right.
As soon as we walk through the doors on the lower level, we’re greeted with mayhem.
At least two hundred Night Realm residents take up the space. Young fae females and gnomes are huddled by the stairs. Several are weeping on the floor or sitting on the steps. Others stand still, staring off into space as if they’re dazed. They look dirty and tired, but otherwise uninjured.
I can’t say the same for my soldiers.
Makeshift cots are set up along one wall, and palace nurses are tending to the wounded men. Bandages are wrapped around deep gashes and missing limbs.
Quinn covers a gasp when she sees one who lost a leg.
“Fuck.” Even I’m overwhelmed by the sight of so much blood. “I should’ve ordered Kai here right away.”
“I’m on it.” He marches past me, his wings still out, approaching the ones who seem to be the worst off.
I can’t believe I ever doubted him. Or Torius. I make a silent vow to make it up to them somehow.
When my mother sees us, she runs over to hug me, then turns to my mate. “Quinn, will you tend to the gnomes? Some of the children have been asking for you.”
“Of course.” Quinn puts a hand to her chest while emotional tears fill her eyes.
She leaves me with a quick caress to my forearm, and when she makes it to the group of little people, she kneels down and they swarm her. There’s got to be thirty of them. It’s the biggest group hug I’ve ever seen.
When Quinn stands, she’s hefting Fiona in her arms. “I bet you’re all hungry. Let’s go find some pudding, huh?”
The gnome’s excited chattering fades away as she leads them through the door that goes to the kitchen.
“They love her,” Mother says, affection in her voice.
“And she loves them back. Are they okay?”
“Overworked and exhausted, but yes.”
“The females?” I’m almost afraid to hear the answer.
Mother confirms my fear when she frowns and looks down at the floor. “Some are untouched. Others weren’t so lucky.”
Father comes over, his dark hair still a tangled mess from battle. Blood is smeared and splattered on his body from head to toe. I’m not sure if any of it is his, but I don’t see wounds on him.
“You look well.” I embrace him with a few manly claps on the back.
“That’s because I am. Not a scratch, my son.” His confidence could be mistaken as cockiness, but my father is one of the best warriors I’ve ever known. He’s just being honest. “We were victorious today.”
“So I heard.” When we separate, my eyes find Zander.
He’s sitting on my father’s throne. His head is hanging down and inky black hair hides his face. The shirt he has on is dark blue with gold buttons and his pants are black leather.
I cock my head to the side. I find it odd that he wears Night Realm clothing.
A crown is in his grasp, and he turns it in his hands. Memorizing it by touch, he bumps his fingers over the light jewels and the designs etched into the gold.
I wonder if he wants to be king, or if this is a burden to him. He could let his mother rule as a lone queen, but I’m not sure if their people would respect a human fae. Discrimination is still very much an issue in the Day Realm, and having special powers is a deciding factor in social status there. As far as I know, Rowan has none.
Come to think of it, I don’t know what Zander’s fae ability is. Maybe he doesn’t have one either. After all, he inherited his mother’s olive skin and dark hair. Lack of power would explain why his father didn’t want him involved in physical altercations.
“A victory for us is a loss for them.” My father tosses a concerned glance at Zander. “A very big loss.”
“Care to elaborate?”
“I couldn’t have won without Zander’s help.”
“History repeats itself,” my mother interjects sadly, pressing close to my father’s side. “My brother suffered the same fate as my father. Zarid was killed by his own son.”
Surprised, my eyebrows shoot up. “Zander killed Zarid?”
Father
