Page 25 of Once the Skies Fade

“Your Majesty,” she said before dropping her voice into a low whisper near my ear. “What are you doing, Calla? Why would you?—”

My head snapped around to look at her. “Because…”

The humans killed him. Just say it! Four little words.

But no matter my efforts, my lips, my tongue, my breath would not cooperate.

Stars-damned witch.

Yes, I had wanted to know the truth, and I had understood the price of that knowledge.

But how could I make Isa—make everyone in my kingdom—understand why I needed the humans—all humans—to leave? I didn’t want to kill them, but I could not rule them any longer, at least not fairly. As irrational as my anger was, I could not look at them, let alone care enough about them to be their queen.

Breathing deeply, I searched for words that I could utter, hoping Isa—and Graham and the Assembly—would accept and support my decision.

“I need all humans out of the kingdom,” I said as calmly as I could manage, given the weakening hold I had on my powers. I needed my general to understand, willed her to with an intense, pleading look. “I can’t do this. I can’t be their queen.”

Isa searched my eyes frantically for a few breaths, but I couldn’t tell what she noticed. When she finally spoke, it wasn’t to me.

“Ladies, I’m afraid the morning has been too taxing for Her Majesty. Could your concerns be addressed at a later date, perhaps?”

I glowered at my friend before whirling on the women still standing before my dais with confusion still playing across their features. One of them inched forward slightly before bowing her head again. She elbowed her sister sharply until she did the same. When they finally turned to leave, I relaxed my fingers—now throbbing at every joint—but I had moved too soon, trusted myself too much.

“She’s gone mad.” The woman’s words—mere whispers breathed into her sister’s ear—slammed into me as if she hadscreamed them for the entire castle to hear. “No doubt that’s what drove her to kill the king.”

My shadows unfurled before I could stop them, shooting out of my palms like water streaming from a broken dam. The inky black tendrils writhed like snakes as they coiled around the limbs of the women. My grief-stricken heart raged within me as I threw my hands wide, and I watched in dark delight as my shadows tore the women apart, spraying their blood across the gleaming floor. I pulled the darkness back, and two pairs of arms and legs fell with a delightfully sickening thud atop their collapsed bodies.

As my shadows snapped back into my palms, an eerie cackle filled the room, and it took me a moment to realize that the laughter was mine.

Chapter 12

Matthias

Three weeks at home and I was already growing restless with the monotony of palace life.

Meetings. Meals. Training. More meetings.

Pointless meetings, about topics that could have been addressed in simple reports, but such was the life of a royal commander. At least my apartment—situated above the training ring—lay far enough away from the main house, allowing a bit of a respite from it all.

Of course, the distance didn’t prevent Connor from occasionally coming here and drinking all of my brandy. Granted there had only been one time, over a year ago, when he had done so without invitation or permission, draining nearly my entire bottle of Vranic’s—a rare Dolobare brandy—and showing up at Lieke’s door, drunk off his royal ass.

I laughed quietly at the memory as I crossed my room to the wardrobe. It had taken me months to acquire a replacement for the one he had pinched, and out of an abundance of caution, I’d taken to hiding it among my undergarments. Pulling the drawer out, I reached to the back and pulled out the latest bottle. I held it up, tilting it slightly to verify Connor hadn’t somehow found its hiding spot. Satisfied, I returned to the sitting area where glassessat beside my inferior varieties of liquor and poured myself a healthy portion—or a bit more than what was considered healthy.

Settling into my favorite armchair, I swirled the dark liquid in my glass as I reached for the small stack of reports that had continued to grow since I’d returned. My scouts, scattered about Emeryn and beyond its borders in the three other kingdoms, sent word via falcon or rider twice a month, whether they had something to report or not. It helped me to know what was going on around the country, if anything.

Taking a sip of my brandy, I opened the first report from across the mountains in Fairden. My scout there was a female fae who owned the local market.

No news.

While not altogether helpful in my efforts to track down the humans, this was decidedly better than hearing word of violence or growing tensions.

The next report was from Holsham where a miller kept a close eye on the main road into Kinham. I was about to open it when someone knocked at my door, startling me. My brandy sloshed in the glass spilling out over my fingers and dripping onto the paper.

“Fuck,” I muttered as I set the glass back down on the side table. Tossing the reports aside, I licked the spilled brandy off my fingers but remained seated. “Come in!” I called.

The door flew open, nearly hitting the wall before the young guard could catch it. Standing in the doorway, the male’s wide eyes darted to mine.

“Mr. Orelian,” he said, dipping his chin. I studied him for a quick moment, noting how he kept shifting his weight and tapping his fingers against the handle of the sword hanging from his belt.

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