Page 44 of A Legacy of Poison and Lies

“We’ve not always been fair to humans. We haven’t always handled things the right way. But so many of us are tired of this strange existence we find ourselves in now. Living in seclusion. We want nothing but peace.”

Zylah studied the Fae’s face, her silver eyes and the way her lips pressed together. “Freedom.”

Cirelle nodded, turning her attention to Holt and a male that Zylah had realised soon into the funeral service was Malok. “My husband has had a very different experience. It will take a lot to win him over.”

“But you think we can?”

Malok rested a hand on Holt’s shoulder, but it seemed like an apologetic gesture more than anything. Holt looked up to meet her gaze, his eyes flicking between her and Cirelle.

“Time will tell.” The Fae dipped her chin, her brows pinching together as she watched Rin and Kej approach. Though they looked a lot like their father, it was their mother’s eyes that gleamed at Zylah as they approached, both with a glass in each hand.

Cirelle raised an eyebrow and took the fullest glass from Kej’s hands, before shooting a swift look at them both and wandering into the crowd.

Zylah hid her smile at the silent scolding Cirelle had given her children.

“So half Fae, huh? What’s that like?” Rin asked as she passed a glass to Zylah. Fae ears missed nothing.

“You can shift into a wildcat, and you expect me to believe you’re interested in my half humanness?”

Kej scoffed before knocking back his wine. “Father always taught us it was good manners to ask our guests about themselves.”

Zylah resisted the urge to comment on Cirelle confiscating one of his glasses. “You have your mother’s eyes, both of you.”

“The shifting ability comes from our father. And it’s fucking great, to answer your question,” Rin said with a dazzling grin.

“So how did you and Holt meet?” Kej asked, discarding his glass on a tray and reaching for another as a redheaded Fae ambled through the crowd. Zylah didn’t miss the heat in Kej’s gaze as he stared after her, or the knowing smile the Fae flashed back at him as she looked over her shoulder.

In the past, she might have blurted out a lie. Some kind of cover-up that most people might have bought. But these were Fae. And Zylah was tired of lying. “I was running for my life from Arnir after killing his son. Holt found me running.”

“Only you didn’t kill him, did you?” Nye asked, snatching the glass from Kej’s hand before he could down it.

Zylah had no idea where she’d come from, but then she hadn’t really been paying attention to the bustle of the crowd, had been too busy trying to keep herself together throughout the funeral service, soul-deep exhaustion weighing her bones, making her feel brittle.

Zylah looked up into Nye’s eyes, intent on focusing on the Fae before her and not the memory of Jesper killing Raif. “No.”

“We’ve been keeping tabs on Jesper since word of Arnir’s death reached us,” Nye said as she rested against the wall beside her cousins.

So they had numbers then. Eyes across Astaria perhaps, where Holt did not. Holt seemed to have a history with these people, was familiar with many of them. He’d chosen their route carefully—this part of Astaria was nothing but the peninsula curling into the ocean, and Zylah doubted there were any humans living beyond the boundary of the court, cut off from the mainland. Which meant the help he sought was here, with the Fae they stood amongst now. How long did they have to secure aid before Aurelia and Marcus succeeded in building their army, and how many would help? She studied the contents of her glass, letting the lull of conversation and laughter around her drown into the waves below.

Rin elbowed Zylah gently. “None of us have seen a vampire up close. What was he like?”

“The same disgusting lowlife he was when I tried to kill him. Only worse.”

Rin was quiet at that. Neither Kej nor Nye spoke, but not out of fear, Zylah thought, some silent promise seemingly passing between the three of them. Her attention fell upon Holt and Malok again, at the way Holt nodded at Malok’s words.

“We want the same thing he does,” Nye said quietly, following Zylah’s gaze. “Holt has done a lot for our family over the years, things not easily forgotten.”

“Does everyone here share the sentiment?” Zylah asked.

“Father has a difficult history with humans,” Rin murmured, snatching another glass from her brother.

Zylah waited as the three Fae shared another look. “So I hear. But?”

“Our existence here is simply that—existing. There are those who live beyond what’s left of the courts in secrecy, but that’s not the life we want. The life we deserve,” Rin said as Kopi flew down to Zylah’s shoulder. “A half Fae with Pallia’s owl.”

Zylah rolled her eyes. “Not you as well.”

“This is where Zylah tells you how many coppers she’d have if she received one for every time someone mentioned Pallia and Kopi.” Holt had joined them, but Zylah hadn’t needed to look up to know that. She caught his eye as she finished her wine, her gaze falling to the way he’d opened the top buttons of the fine jacket he’d changed into for the service, to the way he took up space in the court the same way he had in Mae’s. Those around them seemed to regard him with the same respect the Fae had back in Virian, though here he was not their leader. Here he stood alone, asking for their help, and still they treated him as if he were royalty. Which, Zylah supposed, he was, yet he never used the title, never needed its weight.

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