Page 41 of The Cursed Crown

"Tharsen was banished by his own mother, for good reason," Teoran stated. "What I've read of him in my studies suggests he was selfish, and so power hungry he was happy to siphon the lives of his subjects to increase his own strength. The lords may kneel to him out of fear long enough to beat back Antheos, but then we'll be left with a true monster."

"That's a rumor," she said. "Ask the right person, and every king is a tyrant, for demanding taxes or asking for soldiers or—"

"No other king is asiphon." Teoran shook his head. "I can't support this. And if he is," he pointed to Khal, "ask yourself why. With Tharsen at the head of Denarhelm, Tenebris can invade tomorrow. The kings will be only too happy to switch allegiances."

Khal rolled his eyes. "Don't look at me. I'm only here to make sure she makes it back in one piece."

"Rydekar didn't order you to come, then?" Teoran challenged.

"He didn't. And I didn't ask. I like Rissa; she's loyal and I believe she's exactly what the fae world needs, so I'm here to ensure she keeps her head on her shoulders. How about you, autumn boy? Can you say the same?"

Teoran's teeth flashed. "I'm here because until such a time as she rejects her crown, Serissa Braer is the high seelie queen.Myqueen." He turned to her. "You have been since you came of age. My father's council has discussed you every year since. Some advisors were in favor of coming to you of our own accord, others half whispered advice to hire assassins before you were too hard a target. In the end, my father opted to ignore you. I can guarantee the rest of the lower kings and queens had the exact same discussion in their courts, and they all chose clinging to their power a while longer. But they know you're queen. You only have to ask, and they will kneel."

She shook her head. "You live in another world."

In her reality, she was just Rissa, too wild for the courts, too pampered for the wild. Content to live in the woods like a hag.

"In that world, you rule. You can join it anytime."

She was too stunned to reply.

"Come to the Court of Bones with me. Let me prove it to you."

There was only one thing holding her back. She didn't want him to be right. She liked the comfort of her world. She liked her invisibility, her impotence. She wore her lack of concerns like a shroud, letting it warm her at night.

If he was right, then she had a role, a duty.

If he was right, she should be at the Old Keep, calling on the seelie forces and preparing for war right along with Rydekar.

Two men, so different in everything—age, affinity, taste, demeanor. Yet they both agreed about her place in the seelie dynasty.

Right at the top.

He couldn't be right. They couldn't be right.

Still, she owed it to herself to find out.

"All right. To Deanon, then."

City of Bones

"What!" Rydekar roared.

The page who'd just entered the war room practically pissed himself, trembling like a leaf. "I—a message, my king. From the front. I was told to bring it straight to you. A thousand apologies, your great—"

Rydekar redirected his attention to the map of the fae lands—Tenebris to the south and Denarhelm in the north. His eyes hovered over the Wilderness. He'd given Rissa a fast horse, but he doubted she'd made it yet. If she'd ridden at high speed without a break, perhaps, but she wasn't one to kill her horse for a quest, vital as it may be.

"Give it here," Havryll said.

The page bit his lip. "I was told… Sir, the rider was clear. He said I was to give it to the king, no one else."

Rydekar's gaze slowly lifted from the map to the page. "Obey."

That one word was said with a compulsion strong enough to make a strong man fall to his knees. The page stuffed the parchment in Havryll's hand and ran out of the room.

"Was that necessary?" Havryll asked.

Rydekar shrugged. He knew his temper had seen better days.

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