Page 14 of A Kingdom of Destruction

She didn’t need to look back or even open her eyes to know her father remained immovable on the throne room floor, surrounded by the dead. The Fae King led the charge, and his soldiers followed him out, hauling Aven with them. Even Major Stone stayed behind, the ingrained need to protect his monarch stronger than his desire to follow his princess.

She let her head drop, shame a bitter taste in her mouth as it filtered through her veins, poisoning her cells.

She might be alive, but what was the true cost?

Nothing but a slave for her enemy.

Rain pelted her back on their way out into the main courtyard, and she caught a glimpse of those still burning doors.

“My children! Listen to me now.” King Donal lifted his voice, magic amplifying the dark tones and sending it out through the city. Hell, all the way across the field they’d planned to use today. “I assured you of our victory, did I not?”

He paused for effect, and the roaring of cheers came from the fae soldiers nearby, the sound echoing down the sloping streets.

“Did I not tell you our patience would pay off? Today, we have realized the dream of decades. Grimrose has fallen! We are assured a place in their territory, and as payment, look!”

Magic lifted Aven once again from the guard’s shoulder until she floated six feet above the ground. Her stomach tilted sickeningly at the change in altitude, her head pounding out a ceaseless dull pain.

“Look at the price the mortal king has paid. He has chosen to give us land, and in good faith, we have taken his only remaining child,” the Fae King continued.

She heard nothing around her. The world filtered through cotton, and distantly she felt her sobs, felt the way her body shook.

None of it was true. It couldn’t possibly be true. If she pretended, closed her eyes and kept them shut, then her family would still be alive. She could almost hear Fionn’s laughter, picture herself sharing tea with Maeve, sparring with Emmett in the yard, and enduring the twins’ relentless teasing about her disinterest in noblemen.

Aven didn’t notice as they brought her through the ruined city, as they loaded her into some kind of cart and four wheels turned over broken cobblestones. She did not look back although the storm battered her and the wind whipped hair out of her braid.

She didn’t look back even if it was the last time she’d see her home.

6

Mourningvale always seemed to her a distant monster.

Not close enough for Aven to check under her bed for its presence, but somehow looming just out of sight, ready to snap its jaws around her neck. The territory and the people inhabiting it were more like tales told around campfires.

Although the battles she’d seen made the people real enough. They weren’t usually easy to kill, and yet she’d downed enough fae to lose track of the body count.Until now.

There were no portraits of the lands themselves. No documented maps of the landscape, cities, or villages. Outside of several carefully planned attacks—none of which she’d been allowed to take part in—the fae had mostly gone on the offensive in Grimrose.

Aven had an idea about how far the border was from their own territory. A few days of travel, nothing more. Trying to remember it now felt impossible. Why had she thought they’d be victorious today? Everything led them to their demise.

Why had she never thought about attacking the fae on their lands?

Her mind spun in useless circles and always,always, returned to the image of her siblings.

The Fae King dumped her in the back of a wagon with a piece of canvas stretched over the top as a makeshift roof. It shielded her from the worst of the rain, but the smell—there were several bodies stuffed around her, some of them alive and some of them… not.

The wounded soldier at her back twitched occasionally, each movement followed by a low, helpless moan. The dying, the dead, and her. A misplaced human whose only worth lay in breeding heirs, being a bargaining chip—a body to trade for peace, nothing more. And King Donal had gottenexactlywhat he wanted.

She shuddered to think what he’d do to her now.

She was destined for the dungeons.

Time lost its meaning as the cart wheels rattled and bumped over uneven terrain. Day blurred into night, the storm rolling on as the wheels turned tirelessly. They did not stop, did not speak, did not even look at her.

By the third day, her body’s demands won. Her throat was parched, her limbs stiff, and an urgent shame burned through her. They refused to halt, but she couldn’t hold it any longer. When the cart lurched to one side, she finally gave in, hot shame spilling over her as she wet herself onto the bodies beneath. The sour, stinging warmth seeped through her clothes, mixing with the cloying stench of blood, sweat, and decay that clung to her skin. She clenched her teeth, willing herself to ignore the damp filth cooling against her legs, disgust prickling over her skin.

She closed her eyes, half-hoping she’d never wake, but the nightmare clung to her as night turned to dawn, then dusk again.

They entered the fae kingdom too soon for her peace of mind after an eternity of travel.

---