Page 141 of Crowned By the Fae King

"Does it hurt?" I asked at last.

He wet his lower lip. "Ceaselessly."

I knew he meant more than the pain of his ruined hip. The loss of his family, the loss of his Court, a thousand years under the heel of the man who'd conquered him… all of it had left him scarred and hurting.

He'd still chosen to pull the blow. Sagebrush was still my duchy. He was still its duke. He'd sacrificed his one chance of reclaiming his inheritance to give us a chance to survive.

My eyes drifted to the horse. Fear made sweat break out down my spine and on my palms. It was a big, unpredictable animal, but it was my best escape from the jaws of the trap I was in—from the trap meant for Cass. I didn't matter to Talien, not in the grand scheme of things. I was only the bait.

I made myself step forward and take my sword. Ace stood there in silence as I fixed it onto my belt, then handed me the reins of the horse and stepped back.

He didn't bow. He didn't get to his knees and offer me supplication or fealty.

But he stepped aside, and that was enough.

I shoved down the fear and put my foot into the stirrup. It wasn't any worse than getting into the saddle of a war-dragon. I made myself remember Cass' hands on me; Cass' hips framing mine and the confidence with which he moved. I could do this.

My focus settled onto the beating heart at the center of my world. "As long as I'm the Merciful Queen, you'll be welcome at the Clement Palace, Aeskanai Vaylir," I said, setting myself for the battle ahead, like sinking into a fighting stance. "May you find your home and hearth before you grow weary."

I didn't wait for his reply, or look to see his reaction. I fixed my eyes on the horizon, and kicked my horse into a run.

I wasn't a good rider even on dragonback, but Ace must have guessed as much, because the horse knew what it was doing. The animal loped along in a rolling gait, ignoring my attempts to kick it faster. That was fair; I probably would have fallen off. I was already struggling to stay on. My tailbone slammed into the saddle with each pace, and I couldn't seem to keep my knees closed around the beast's sides.

It didn't matter. The horse ran, and I didn't fall. We broke out of the snow-covered formal gardens and into a scraggly woodland, following the main road out of the Buzzing Palace. Guards were posted not far off the palace grounds, a whole troop of them. They were facing the border—ready for an attack.

The sound of hoofbeats caught their attention, too late. One man whipped around in time to get bowled out of the way, the horse putting its head down and running. It had to have been trained for this, I thought with distant assessment, clinging on for dear life. An arrow whizzed past. Another.

Then we were in the wood again, and the arrows ceased.

The road turned, but I didn't, aiming for the border. In the light of the moon, with the snow reflecting the light, it was bright enough to see, and I had no time to spare. The horse didn't balk, covering the snowy ground with ease as we beelined for the border. Horses move at a good clip, but it was at least three miles to the Court of Mercy. Every one of them held deadly danger. Talien could get me, or Ithronel, or those soldiers I'd blasted through. I just needed to get across the boundary—get to safety before Cass got here to take me to safety.

Honestly, it was a miracle he wasn't already assaulting the border.

Even as I thought that, I caught the sensation of Cass throwing himself skyward, my thighs tensing and the phantom sensation of beating wings thrilling down my back. I gritted my teeth and leaned forward, trying to urge the horse to run faster.

If I could just get out of the Court of Flies—

If I could just make it back home—

All around me, brambles erupted from the ground.

To Kill a King

Ididn't stand a chance. The horse screamed and went down, flinging me off its back as it fell thrashing to the ground. I hit the ground hard, tumbling across stone and thorned vines. Blood sang across my tongue.

Ithronel stepped out from between two trees, holding a fucking hand-cannon.

I stared at her, boggled. It wasn't a modern gun; far from it. The thing looked like the earliest firearms, a one-shot cannon shrunk down to holdable size—and not even that shrunk down, because Ithronel was an eight-foot-tall powerhouse. But it was still a gun. I'd never expected to see a fae holding a gun, let alone a fae goddess holding one.

She smiled at me, a cutting expression. Her new body looked almost identical to her old one, save that she had no willow leaves in her hair, which had gone from floor-length to close-cropped tight curls. The salty tracks of tears on her face glittered silver in the moonlight.

"Now where do you think you're going?" she asked in a lilting voice.

She looked better than she had facing Cass. Far better. Whatever magic source she'd been feeding from must have been powerful. Ithronel didn't have the same earth-shattering aura that Faerqen did, but I could tell that she was a heavyweight. It was like the earth tilted in her direction, an irresistible gravitational pull like that of the siphons she'd had placed on our thrones.

Moving slowly, I pushed myself up. My skin stung from a hundred scratches, and my cheek burned where I'd bitten myself. The snow was soaking through my clothing, chilling my blood and freezing my skin. Nothing seemed broken, though. Thank god for small miracles.

"Anywhere else. I'm not supposed to be here," I told her, trying to keep my voice pleasant. My breath fogged in the cold air. I had no way to fight a goddess. I had no way to escape a goddess. I was at least a mile from the border, and my ride was lying on the ground, its neck broken and body still.

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