Page 26 of A Kingdom of Destruction

“Here we are,” he whispered. “Our Sacred Tree.”

She wasn’t sure what she expected. Something grand and huge and that towered over her, a giant form legend. Something like the tree in her bedroom with those dripping purple flowers. Or perhaps something like the Sacred Trees she’d heard about in other kingdoms—the ones that probably made the fae seethe with jealousy and rage.

Instead, the Darkroot looked to be the size of a maple tree. Its leaves were a silvery blue and absorbed the light of the sun overhead. The same shade as Roran’s eyes, the voice in her head remarked, and she shut it down quickly. The limbs looked barely able to hold the weight of a small child, let alone anyone else.

“The royal line has lovingly tended it for as long as anyone can remember. Once my father passes on his crown to me, then I will carry on the tradition.” Cillian leaned back and folded his arms across his chest. “What do you think?”

Aven studied the Darkroot and ignored his opening to speak. The tree itself might not look like much, but the same scent of magic perfumed the air out here, the electric throb before a lightning crack. Oh, yes. Even her dull human senses knew there was something utterly special about this tree.

“Hardly anything will damage the tree.”

“Are you sure?”

“Don’t even think about it.” His expression shuttered. “I brought you out of here as a courtesy. I’d hate to think you wouldtry to do anything to damage our Sacred Tree.” Then his smile returned, and he continued with, “Although I’d love to see you try. It would be funny to watch your bones melt inside your body as the power of the Darkroot flayed you from the inside out.”

Funny?Aven had another word for it. She glanced between Cillian and the tree, the feeling of power drawing her forward like a physical tug through her midsection. No, she would not try to harm the tree. Not when she wanted to learn more about it.

Not when she still saw the rune in her mind.

Cillian’s comment remained with her on their walk back to the palace and all the way through dinner. Golden boy or not, it was a warning for her to stay in her lane. To be grateful for the things he gave her. A warning of what might happen if she did anything to step out of line.

10

Aven must have fallen asleep at some point after countless hours spent staring at her ceiling. The branches of the tree that made up the headboard of the massive bed swayed gently in a phantom breeze. At first it shocked her—the magic of this place, inherent in every breath and beat of her heart.

Even the odd thickness and the electric charge of spellwork in the air became something tolerable.

But the moment she closed her eyes she saw them again.

Her family, slaughtered. Like animals.

No soft mattress or flowery fragrances would be enough to erase the horrors etched into her mind. Somewhere along the line, however, exhaustion took her under regardless of her intentions to stay alert.

She’d maneuvered a large trunk in place to block the door even when she knew it was futile. Fae magic would easily move the piece. If anyone did try to come into her room, hopefully the noise of the large furniture piece skidding across the floor would be enough to wake her.

Her dreams, mercifully, remained empty. Everything was empty until her curtains being thrown open shocked her awake.

“Rise and shine!” A soft voice chirped out the greeting. Aven gasped. “The morning has come and gone, Your Highness. It’s time for us to start the day before it disappears entirely.”

Aven shot out of bed with her eyes burning and her hand automatically reaching for her weapon. She came up short. She’d come here with only the clothes on her back and her wand—unreachable without alerting the fae woman to its presence.

With nothing to use to defend herself, she reached for her pillow and held it in front of her. The worst shield she’d ever wielded.

A pair of pretty amber eyes met hers, set in a soft face designed to bring kingdoms to their knees. The woman giggled, lifting a pale hand to cover her mouth. “You won’t do much damage to me with that, Your Highness, if you don’t mind my saying so. Unless you’d like to have a pillow fight.”

“Who are you?”

Aven didn’t bother telling the woman to stay back. Or ask how she’d managed to get into the room. She spared a glance over to see that the chest of drawers had been slid soundlessly back into its original position, silently.

Her chest constricted. So much for her plan.

The woman executed the perfect curtsy and held the soft pink fabric of her dress out to the side. Sunlight filtered through it and gave her the appearance of having wings. “I’m Nora, Your Highness. It’s a pleasure to be able to serve you. Crown Prince Cillian told me to take care of you, and when you didn’t rise for the day, I worried.”

“Don’t call me Your Highness.” Aven slowly lowered the pillow but kept her grip on it, pushing away from the headboard and stepping down. “I’m not royalty anymore. Not here.”

Nora looked startled before she schooled her features into an easy mask. “As you wish. It’s not my place to argue.”

“Only your place to wake me up,” Aven clarified.

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