Page 98 of Kingdom of Briars and Roses

“The first few donations cause a few days of weakness. Headaches, dizziness, exhaustion. Continuing beyond that, recovery becomes slower. Over time, access to one’s magic wanes, and therefore, so does our ability to heal. The weakness becomes permanent. If he stopped there, they might simply become more or less human. A mortal with an average life span, fragile body, and no magic.”

“But he doesn’t stop there,” I said, feeling sick.

“Eventually, with enough blood draining, the body depletes of its necessary nutrients and minerals. The flesh wrinkles, the bones become brittle, the body becomes frail.”

I stared at him in horror as it all clicked. “They becomepermanently withered.” He nodded. “What happens if they refuse?”

“If they don’t comply, they are imprisoned, and their magic is taken anyway. All of it. At once.”

“They wouldn’t survive that.”

Rydian’s silence was confirmation.

My chest tightened to the point of pain as I thought of all those fae being drained of life. All so Duron could maintain the illusion that his land remained untouched by Heliconia.

“And these rogues—the Withered. They’re rebelling to fight the tax.”

“Yes.”

I swallowed hard as more pieces fell into place. “Callan knows. He condones it.”

Again, Rydian said nothing. He didn’t have to.

“What about the army? They can’t fight if they’re weakened.”

“Menryth’s magic has been waning for centuries already. The king thinks his soldiers can be trained to rely on their combat skills alone.”

My shock turned to horror—and disgust. “Duron would drain his own people all for a show of power he doesn’t actually possess?”

“Others have done far worse in the name of power.”

I frowned at the hard edge in his voice. As if he spoke from experience. But I couldn’t imagine anyone worse—except for Heliconia herself.

I didn’t respond, my thoughts racing. Still, Rydian watched me as if this were a test. I didn’t think he was lying, but he was clearly very interested in what I said or did next.

“The Withered attacked me because they think I’ll stand with Callan on this,” I said quietly. My stomach twisted. Of course they did. I’d agreed to marry him. The fae of this landwouldn’t realize he hadn’t told me the dark truth. They’d assume I was in on it.

“Won’t you?” Rydian asked.

Instead of the hostility he usually displayed, there was a challenge in his eyes. What side would I choose?

I thought of Sonoma. I’d asked her—begged her, really—to take my magic, to drain me to feed the wards, and she’d said no. I’d been miserable with helplessness at the time, but now I understood. She’d known what would happen to me if I’d let her do it. Eventually, I’d become just like the Withered. And how would the prophecy have held then?

How could I possibly save our people as a mortal shell of myself?

These people didn’t deserve what was being done to them.

Duron had no right.

Callan had to see that.

“What will Duron do when all his people are drained?” I asked. “He has to know this isn’t a sustainable plan.”

“When this kingdom is drained, he’ll move on to another.”

I swallowed hard, suddenly stifled in this small room. I had to get away, get some air.

Turning for the door, I made it all of three steps when Rydian closed his hand over my wrist.

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