Page 32 of The Kingdom Cursed By Iron

“Once upon a time, Ruskin, you got a say in things like this.” I head down the south corridor towards his rooms. “Not anymore,” I call over my shoulder, and am satisfied that this time he’s the one who has no reply.

The exhaustion hits me as soon as I curl up in one of library’s palatial chairs. It doesn’t matter that I don’t have a bed, that I’m not in my house—or even in my realm. Sleep finds me, deep and solid, though it’s only when the sun warming my face wakes me that I realize my night was plagued with dreams. Images of dead bodies, impaled on iron spikes, coming thick and fast.

I blink my eyes open, wondering when exactly I’d become so used to death that I could sleep through the night with it still so fresh in my mind. The answer is all around me. Faerie is when I became used to it, when I was brought to this violent world by the person now seated opposite, examining me over a cup of tea.

“I’ve been thinking about what you said last night.”

It seems like a long time since I’ve seen Ruskin’s Seelie eyes, even though it was just yesterday at the banquet. The round pupils somehow make him look more open—sincere. Which is probably why he’s chosen to wear them now, I remind myself.

“What did I say?” I ask as I stretch my arms upwards. I’m aware of him watching me and my skin prickling in response. Now, in the light of day, my anger isn’t as sharp, but that doesn’t stop me from proceeding with caution.

“I think you’re right that there might be something to the ephor’s theory.”

I lower my arms.

“Is that so?”

He doesn’t look apologetic, but he does extend me a nod.

“You spoke about imbalance. It’s quite possible the remedy is something right in front of us: my mother. Maybe the realm senses that the rightful monarch is awake and not yet on the throne. But once we put her name on the founding stone, the realm will recognize the restoration of order.”

He takes a sip of his tea.

“You really think that will fix it?” I ask.

“If Jorna’s correct. It would make sense. My mother ruled for much longer than I did. She was built for this. The stone doesn’t just allow anyone to inscribe their name on it. You have to earn your place first by passing its tests. I managed to scrape by, but the stone—the magic of the Seelie Court—will know that High Queen Evanthe is the better pick.”

He says all this so blithely that I see the extent of the faith that he has in his mother, and how little he has in himself. It seems contradictory that someone so confident would also have such doubts about their position in life. Ruskin told me a while ago that he never saw himself as cut out to rule the Seelie Court. Yet Ruskin was always a walking contradiction. Wasn’t that part of what my curious, probing mind had liked about him?

“If you want to see Her Majesty reinstated, you should do it sooner rather than later.” Halima’s voice precedes her, not preparing me for her expression as she enters the library. She’s still annoyed about yesterday, I think, but there’s an anxious edge to it that disturbs me more than I expect. Halima is meant to be the most stoic and stable among us. If she’s worried, what does that mean for the rest of us?

“Halima thinks I’m not taking the situation seriously enough,” Ruskin says to me with a tight smile.

“I think you’ve become too comfortable deceiving the court about her status,” she corrects.

“You know, some kings have swordswomen who actually show them a little respect every now and then.”

He’s teasing Halima like usual, but something tells me this time is different. Halima glances at me, perhaps wondering where I stand in all this, then back to Ruskin.

“My respect is shown in my attempts to get you to do the right thing. If Her Majesty does not truly sit on the Seelie throne, and if she will not for some time yet, then the court should know the truth from you—before it is too late.”

Ruskin’s face changes, sharpened by a flash of annoyance.

“Don’t lecture me about the right thing, Halima. We cannot all be righteous warriors who see the world in black and white. Some of us have a different role to play.”

Halima shifts, making the plates of her armor gently clank against each other.

“I only meant?—”

“I want this deception over and my mother returned to her position as much as you do. More so, in fact, seeing as receiving the powers of the High Monarch will do no end of good in her recovery. But I will not risk stirring up the court with needless revelations before then. The process of putting your name on the founding stone is no easy one, and she must be stronger before she can face such an arduous task. Considering what she will have to endure, we’ll just all have to be prepared to wait.” He stands, bringing himself to the same level as Halima. “I will not put my mother at risk, from the stone or this court.”

Halima looks like she wants to say more. It’s rare enough that it casts a tension over the room as she lets the silence hang.

“Very well, my Lord,” she says. “I came to report that the Ambrosia Quarter and the courtyard have been successfully evacuated, and the healers have seen the last of the injured.” She dips her head and then is gone.

It’s like I can physically see the weight on Ruskin’s shoulders as he watches her leave. I might’ve cured his curse, but I haven’t banished the other problems of the Seelie Court. It still remains a dark and dangerous place where a person is constantly drawn into playing games to survive, concealing who they really are, hiding their true position.

Was that why Ruskin always seemed to be playing games with me? Is it so hard for him to shake the habits his own court has ingrained in him?

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