“In all honesty, I don’t know how much more I can take.” With everything else that’s happened in Shadow Court, all this news is overwhelming.
She continues regardless, “The main reason most fae want you dead is because you are the one true heir to reign over both Ash and Shadow Courts.”
My mouth drops open.
She turns to me and grabs my arm tightly, her expression beyond serious. “King Tibout is gone. Before his son Ahren takes the throne, you need to claim that position and marry a royal quickly. Once you hold it, you will lay claim to the throne in Ash Court as well, meaning you can influence this court’s decisions while the king and I still rule here. Once one of us passes, then you can claim this throne with your king and reign both courts. You will bring them back into one kingdom as it once was. The other kingdoms in the realms will join as well.”
I'm shake my head. “What? You can’t die!”
“Hush.” She places a hand on my mouth. “I’m not going anywhere. I’ve waited for this moment for too long, I’ve lost too much—but now is the time to strike.”
“I don't want the throne,” I whisper.
“It’s not about what you want, sweetie. This is the only way to stop the bloodshed between our courts, to end the deaths, to restore balance in our world.”
I swallow past the mountain in my throat, pondering her words, mostly considering my three fae. “What will become of the princes? Can I marry one to take the throne?”
She looks at me strangely and smirks. “Has one caught your eye?”
I smile too widely, unsure how to tell her that it's in fact all three. “Sort of.”
“To claim the throne, you must take someone royal as your king anyway, so yes.”
There's an explosion in my stomach of anticipation and excitement at what she tells me. I can marry Ahren!
But just as fast, doubt settles in me as I consider the enormity of what she is proposing. “I'm not sure this is going to work. Why would they believe me when King Tibout can’t back up my claim? And how does that unite the courts?” My knees are bouncing; I can't believe I’m even contemplating this. I barely understand fae customs, let alone know enough to rule. It's a joke to think that I could reign over anything when half the time I can't even control my own mouth.
“The answer is in your blood. Mages can test your bloodlines with magic—that is your evidence.”
The mention of mages makes my skin crawl, because there is no way Jasion will ever help me. But the king has other mages, so maybe I just need to get them on my side. My breaths are coming fast now, and I'm struggling to fill my lungs. Am I really thinking of trying to claim the throne?
I shouldn't feel guilty, though part of me wonders how Ahren will react to this. Me stepping in...
“Maybe this isn’t the best thing to do. I just want to fit in somewhere and have a normal life.”
My mother stares at me with sympathy and cups a hand over my cheek, rubbing my tears away. “The biggest mistake I made in my life was that I never fought for what I wanted. I let fear rule my decisions. As a result, I lost my daughter and the fae I loved. I don't want you to live with such regret. It eats away at you; it’s crippling. This is your chance to take what you want, to make a difference in a world that once tried to kill you just because you were different.” She gets to her feet and takes my hand. “It’s time to stand and show everyone who you really are.”
I don’t move at first but look at her, and the question swirling on my mind comes forward. “Did my father know about me?”
Her head lowers, but I catch the glint in her eyes before she whispers, “Yes. But he lost the chance to meet you.” Her soft, wavering voice breaks me. She moves across the room to a display cabinet and pulls a drawer open.
I’m on my feet and meet her as she turns around. Taking my good hand, she places a long, pink ribbon in my hand. The fabric is soft like silk under my fingers, and on one side my name is embroidered in white, repeatedly. Guen.
“Your father had this made especially for you and sent it to me, but you were already gone by then. I never told him it was too late; I couldn’t.” She covers my hand with hers, curling my fingers over the treasured ribbon. “I can now say I’ve kept my word to him.” She hastily wipes a loose tear from the corner of her eye, and the ache in my chest intensifies.
Clearing my throat, I say, “I spent time with him in Shadow Court, but I don’t think he knew it was me. He made me feel comfortable and welcome when we had the chance to speak.”
She reaches over and collects my cut hand, still embedded with shards of ruby, and places it between her two palms. “Sometimes, fate has a way of uniting those who are meant to cross paths, even if they don’t know it.”
Suddenly, her touch sends a flare of scorching heat up my arm.
I wince, and she lets me go. When I look at my hand, the cuts are all gone, and only dried blood remains. I glance up at her, bewildered.
“I have the power of healing and a few other tricks.”
So it’s her I gained my healing from. When I look at my hand again, I can’t help but wonder if she’s sealed the shattered pieces of the ruby inside my skin.
“Call your portal,” she says abruptly, her tone rushed. “There isn’t time to waste.”
“Wait, what about you?”
“The wedding is today,” she whispers, “so stop the marriage and claim what is yours. I will be fine.
