Page 65 of Crowned By the Fae King

"Listening in?" I asked.

He lifted a wing in a half-shrug. "Through the Court, and only at a surface level. I wanted to make sure I wasn't supposed to follow you to make amends."

I scrunched up my face with disgust before he even finished. "Don't do that. I hate that."

"Yes," he said, breathing a laugh. "That was the sense I was getting."

I examined the chess board so that I didn't have to look in his eyes. "About Vaylir…"

He leaned forward and tapped the chessboard. "Your move. Go on."

"Did you know they have infertility spells on them? The dukes, I mean." I chose a piece, mostly at random, and moved it to a plausible location. I wasn't very good at chess.

"Many people do," Cass said, frowning at the board. "I have one. Vad and Dani both do, too. I did Vad's myself." He moved a rook. "Check."

"Yeah, well, I'm assuming Vad's won't kill him if he tries to remove it." It took me a second to figure out how I was in check. I hopped a pawn forward to take the hit, instead. "They're all the last of their lines, apparently. The last last, since none of them can have kids. I was hoping you could break the spells for them. I, uh," I added, blushing a little, "implied as much to Vaylir. He seemed pretty moved by the offer."

"Fucking Omahice," he growled. "Daesarys was a ruthless bastard. For all that I tried to save him, and for as much as I dislike being King, I'm glad he's dead." Cass glared at the chessboard for a moment, a focused look on his face, then shook his head and took my pawn with his knight.

I knocked over my king instead of making a move, earning a bark of laughter.

"You weren't checkmated," he said, sounding amused.

"Yeah, well, I'm shit at chess. You were going to beat me eventually." I dropped my chin onto my hand and smiled at him. "Will you do it? And while you're at it, could you keep taking care of Vaylir's leg, even once he leaves palace grounds? He gave permission."

Cass smirked back, his expression one of bemused tolerance. "Being free with my favors, Quyen?"

I flicked my fingers at him. "It's not like I have any of my own to give. Plus, infertility spells are your domain. You're the reflexive command healer who channeled an entire Court's wild magic, not me."

"True enough." He crossed his arms over his chest and regarded me. "Unlike the rest of Mercy, those three duchies have enough of a memory of being their own Courts that they could theoretically break loose. Reinstating those royal lines risks destabilizing the Court." Cass raised a brow at me, like a challenge—or invitation.

He did this that first day, too, I realized. My brows drew together. Despite the fact that he was offering points against what I wanted, he wasn't exactly saying no. Cass had been surprised, too, when I'd stopped engaging with him before—"But we haven't concluded a bargain."

Maybe he wasn't trying to be combative, or to weasel out of answering. This could be his way of thinking things through out loud, and of trying to find the best path forward.

The man had spent three hundred years in the fae equivalent of medical school, after all. It probably shouldn't surprise me that he made decisions like an academic, complete with presumably-friendly debate.

It was worth a shot, at least.

"Fae have a pretty low birthrate, though, right?" I countered, raising my own brow. "The chances of them having kids in the next few years seems unlikely, and given how land-tied you are, I suspect that by then, even the duchies will know who's boss."

Cass inclined his head towards me. Point to Quyen. "It's still not negligible, though. Is that a risk you're willing to take?" He hesitated, then added, "I suspect losing part of the Court would be physically very painful for me, and likely for you, too, even without us being balanced. I imagine it would be something like having my wings torn off my back."

Nausea and guilt twisted inside me. The image of young Cass playing with his power slipped into my mind: a little boy, plucking the wings off a dragonfly.

Maybe I deserve it.

"You don't. You don't deserve that," I said, the rejection out of my mouth before I could think of how Cass might react to having me answer his thoughts out loud.

His skin darkened with embarrassment. Cass looked away. "More than ten thousand people died during my ascension," he said, his eyes unfocused and voice steady. "We don't have a complete count of the missing, yet. It's likely many more were lost in the upheaval."

"Could you have controlled it?" I asked. "If you'd known it was going to happen? Sat there next to Omahice and held his hand while he killed himself to make you King? Would it have changed anything?"

His ears flattened against his skull. His jaw clenched, the muscle standing out.

I didn't need him to speak to hear the answer: No.

"Yeah. That's what I thought." I pushed myself up and stretched, lacing my fingers above my head. "Forced sterilization is cruel and inhumane. You've got the chance to undo one of the crimes of our predecessor, and I think you should take it. Omahice was a conqueror, but we don't have to be." I walked over and ran my fingers along the cool metal of his wing in a caress. "Our legacy can be healing. Don't you think that's worth the risk?"

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