Page 63 of Heir to His Court

“Do you know me?” the General asked, of no one and everyone.

After a long moment, Baroun emerged from among the courtiers. “I know you, General.”

Threnvanne Sanyelle glanced at him. “My brother’s grandson’s grandson.”

I stared, momentarily distracted. That made Baroun a nephew, not a cousin, and of Nayya and Assariel’sdirectbloodline. What other secrets were they keeping? Many, of course.

Baroun bowed. “You orders?”

“For now, witness.”

The General flung me in front of my father. I fell to my knees, not trying to keep to my feet. “She has confessed her crime against me. Who else knew? You, Lord Étienne?”

“That doesn’t matter,” I snapped. “Iam Fae. I am Kuthliele. My father knew nothing.”

I glanced at Édouard, a warning in my gaze. He obeyed, barely. If I died, the House would need him. We all served, even me. The collar around my throat tightened and I shut up.

“You will have your peace,” the General said, “you have done as I asked. But her freedom is forfeit. She is mine.”

My father lowered himself to one knee. “Your anger is just, General. I beg you allow me to take my daughter’s punishment on my shoulders.”

I stood, abandoning the show of submissiveness—it wasn’t helping. “No,Baba.”

“She is—”

“A warrior, or so she claims. She knows the consequences of her war against us.” He paused. “I am not kind, but neither am I needlessly cruel. If she is obedient, she will come to no significant harm.”

My father looked up, about to argue, and I knew the General’s patience was gone. I stepped in front of Threnvanne, my back to his chest. It hurt, the power under his skin striking me like a hundred tiny darts.

“Lord Étienne,” I said, my voice steely. “Iam Kuthliele, and of the direct maternal descent. The crime is mine, as is the punishment. Hold the House for Danon. I promise you, everything will be fine.”

Baba looked at me. “It is a father who should say those words to a daughter.”

“You have, many times.” I smiled at him, gathering all the strength in me to show him nothing but peace, acceptance. If I died, or suffered some other terrible fate, I didn’t want my fear and anguish to haunt my father for the rest of his life.

The collar on my neck heated, and I turned, following the General as he walked back into the palace without another word. There was a shout, first one and then several others, the metallic ring of blades.

“Rinne!” Juliette’s desperate voice.

I dug in my heels. “General, let me calm her.”

He halted and turned back to me. “Calm the girl, or I will kill her.”

Turning, I watched Juliette struggling through the White Guard to get to me. Édouard’s voice rising furiously above the din.

I released the harpy, my wings flaring wide. “Stand down.” My voice rang out.

Numair met my gaze, his wild with fear. There were many fates worse than death, and Threnvanne spoke like he knew every one.

“Stand down.”

Juliette reached an arm to me, but this time when I spoke her fingers curled into a fist and lowered, her shoulders slumping. I searched for Lavendre, and she looked at me, expression neutral. I jerked my chin to Juliette and Lavendre moved toward her younger sister.

Numair stared. Édouard and Terreille held him by the upper arms, Terreille speaking into Numair’s ear. Good. Numair and Juliette would have comfort in my. . .absence.

“Come,” the General said.

I followed, his collar around my neck.

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