“The challenges must be made within six weeks of the new ruler taking the throne. The challenges must be made one at a time, and there must be a day of rest in between each challenge.
“A challenge is not to the death but until one party yields.”
“With all due respect, highness,” Lysander practically yelled in order to stop her, “we know our own laws.”
Lilly glanced up at him from under her lashes. Her lips turned up slightly. “Then you know this next one. A challenge may not be made during a time of war.”
Lysander’s clan shifted behind him, their faces changing from focused and supportive to uncertain as they began murmuring to one another.
“Our king was recently slain in battle. The battle was part of a war that is not over, as our enemy is still out there,” Lilly persisted. “You, sir, are seeking to divide our people when we need to be united. You are challenging the will of your king, when I have previously demonstrated that he has given me his power. You knew this, as you felt the transfer of his power at the time of his death. You heard his words ripple through the bonds of his leadership. And still you stand before me, my warriors, and your clan, and you dare to claim that what your king decreed is for another. Tell me, Lysander, did you ever consider him your king to begin with, or have you all these years simply been playing make-believe, biding your time until an opportunity came when you thought you could take something that has never been yours for the taking?”
Lysander’s face twisted into a look of pure hatred as he glared at her. His yellow eyes glowed with rage, and his hands shook at his sides. Apparently, she’d hit some nerves.
“How dare you?” Lysander snarled.
“How dare you—your highness,” Lilly corrected. “Continue,” she said as she closed the book and held it out to Peri. She had no clue what the high fae would do with it, but Lilly needed both of her hands free.
“You aren’t just a new bloodline,” he spat. “You’re not even a damn warlock. You’re an orphan sprite who didn’t even grow up in our world. You have no idea what it means to lead a race of supernatural people, and you sure as hell do not know how to prepare us for war with the likes of the Order of the Burning Claw.”
The way he said the Order’s official name, with a sound of awe in his voice, disgusted Lilly. There was no awe owed to a group of murdering, egomaniacs who were willing to kill anyone who stood in their way.
He started to take a step toward her, but Lilly shot her hand out, letting a bolt of power land just in front of his toe. “Do not take another step,” she warned as she felt her power crackle in the surrounding air. “You say I have no idea how to prepare us for war, yet you consort with the Order behind our backs? Is that how you prepare for war?”
“Negotiating with your opponent can prevent loss of lives … highness.” He spoke her title as if it were a disgusting taste in his mouth.
“You’re attempting to negotiate with the very people who cut your king’s head from his body,” Lilly said through clenched teeth. The images of Cypher’s falling form filled her mind, and she had to lock her knees to keep her legs steady beneath her. She felt Cypher’s hand pressing firmly against her back, a reminder he was there even though she could not see him. She imagined it was so she wouldn’t accidentally look up at him and appear a little crazy.
“Would you rather more of us ended up headless?” Lysander challenged. “Is that to be the legacy of your rule, Lilly of the sprites?”
“It is Queen Lilly to you, sir, of the warlocks, and you would do well to remember your place.” Lilly fumed. She wouldn’t be surprised if there was actual steam rising from her skin. “My legacy has not yet been decided, but I can tell you this.” She started to take a step forward but felt something hold her back. Perizada. It was a reminder she wasn’t supposed to move. Lilly shifted back. “It will not include consorting with those who wish to subjugate those weaker than themselves. I will not leave a legacy behind me that would see the warlock people kneeling to the likes of traitors like Ludcarab, Alston, or Cain. I will not expect my people to bow to anyone, especially those who would ask them to hurt innocents. I will not allow you to lie to them and make them think your interests are anything less evil than that of the Order’s.”
“You’re accusing me of treason, my queen. I’m a leader of one of your clans. That’s a very serious accusation. Do you have any proof of this claim?” He crossed his arms in front of his chest, a smug smile spread across his lecherous face.
“As ambassador for the Great Luna…” Peri spoke up. She turned to Lilly. “May I speak, your highness?”
“The floor is yours,” Lilly said, motioning with her hand before her.
Peri inclined her head and then turned back to Lysander. “As ambassador for the Great Luna,” she began again, “and an acting enforcer of the supernatural races, I bring information concerning the accusation to the queen.” Peri held up her hands and light flew from them. Suddenly the air was filled with small, wing-flapping beings. Pixies, at least fifty or more. They were frozen where they flew, unable to move except for their heads, which were swinging around wildly trying to figure out why they were petrified. “Hello, King Ainsel of the pixies,” Peri said to the figure hovering beside Lysander.
Lysander’s eyes were no longer calm, and the smug smile fell. He looked to his right where the king of the pixies was frozen in the
