Page 19 of Crown of Ashes and Desire

After Kaan left, my cousins turned their full attention to Ada with renewed interest.

“So this is the famous daughter of Gün Ata,” Rezen observed, contempt dripping from his words as he measured her with his gaze. “Smaller than the stories suggested.”

I noted how both cousins kept their distance from her, their darkness instinctively recoiling from her light. For all their disdain, they feared what they didn’t understand.

“Size is rarely an accurate measure of power,” I stated. “As you well know.”

“Still,” Azra purred, “one does wonder what conceivable use you could have for such a creature. Beyond the obvious, ofcourse.” Her smirk suggested exactly what “obvious” uses she was implying.

Unbidden memories of our past surfaced, and I forced them down lest they affect our bond.

Lord Yilmaz chose that moment to approach, giving the assembled demons a respectful bow before turning to me. He had been among the most vocal critics of my binding with Ada, his spite barely concealed beneath courtly manners.

I noted how his hands trembled slightly in the presence of my cousins—yet his stare kept darting to Ada with calculated interest. Yilmaz had been quietly building alliances with the Karanlikoglu faction—the old guard of shadow purists who believed in eliminating light rather than harnessing it. They viewed my binding to Ada as a weakness, a dilution of pure shadow bloodlines. The same faction that secretly backed Deniz’s attempt to capture Ada five years ago.

“Lord Hakan,” he greeted, “I see we’re honored with distinguished company today.”

“Indeed,” I said flatly. “My cousins were all curious about my wife.”

Yilmaz’s expression slid toward Ada, his contempt poorly disguised. “And your…acquisition appears to be making herself comfortable.”

“My wife,” I corrected him, “does as she pleases.”

“Of course.” Yilmaz’s smile didn’t reach his expression. “Though one wonders how she adapts to shadow customs. Light-bearers are known for their…reluctance to embrace the natural order. Often requiring a firmer hand than most.”

Ada must have heard him, for she paused her conversation with Sarp and turned. Rather than showing offense, she offered Yilmaz a smile of practiced indifference—the same expression she had perfected at diplomatic functions when dealing withfools. My gaze lingered on her longer than it should have. She was so beautiful.

“Lord Yilmaz,” she acknowledged with ice in her voice. “Still determined to prove your relevance through poorly disguised insults? How tiresome.”

Sarp snorted into his wine. Melo’s tail lashed once, a clear warning.

Yilmaz’s face darkened with humiliation, flushing red. “Bold words from a woman who spreads her legs for shadow lords.” His voice rose, ensuring all could hear. “Tell me, Lady Ada, did you whore yourself out to our Lord Hakan willingly, or was it merely your father’s light that he found useful?”

The room went deathly silent, and the temperature dropped several degrees. The icy-cold air of Hell embraced us all like a heavy curtain. My cousins' attention sharpened like blades, their gazes fixed on me, waiting to see how I would respond. This was a test—not just from Yilmaz, but from my cousins. A challenge to my authority, my claim over Ada, my willingness to enforce respect.

The room's energy crackled and shifted as Yilmaz spoke. The insult to Ada merely skimmed the surface—beneath it lay a challenge to my authority. He questioned my ability to rule. This wasn't just about her; it was about power. The Shadow Court respected only strength, and Yilmaz had just shown weakness disguised as bravado. At that moment, his fate was sealed.

Eyes bore into me from every corner—not just my cousins', but those of every shadow lord and lady present. Some leaned forward with anticipation, others calculating behind hooded lids. Lord Kaya’s expression narrowed slightly, as he had long been wary of Yilmaz’s ambitions. Lady Narin’s lips curved into the faintest smile; she was eager to see blood spilled. The Karanlikoglu representatives in the back straightened, theircollective posture suggesting Yilmaz’s words were no impulsive insult, but a calculated move.

This wasn’t just about Ada. This was about my authority, about whether I would tolerate a direct challenge from a lord with powerful backers. About whether my binding to Ada had weakened my position.

I stepped forward, darkness leaking from my skin like oil. “Ada,” I said, my voice deceptively soft. “Take two steps to the left, so you’re next to Sarp.”

She met my stare. She seemed confused by my simple request, wariness creeping into her expression before she complied without a word, moving to stand beside Sarp.

Yilmaz sensed he was in danger too late. “I seem to forget?—”

I didn’t let him finish. My hand shot forward, shadow magic condensing around my fingers into a blade of pure darkness. One swift arc, and Yilmaz’s head separated cleanly from his body, suspended momentarily in the air before both collapsed to the floor with a wet thud. Blood fountained from his severed neck, spraying across nearby courtiers who scrambled backward with cries of alarm.

The execution was necessary—calculated, not impulsive. Yilmaz had been gathering support among the traditional factions, undermining my position with whispers of my ‘Light Court sympathies.’ His elimination would send a clear message to others who might consider similar challenges. That it also avenged the insult to Ada was…secondary.

The ripple effect was immediate. I watched the assembled lords recalculate their positions, some stepping subtly closer to show renewed loyalty, others retreating to reassess their strategies. In Shadow Court politics, a single execution could reshape alliances that had taken decades to build.

There was an audible gasp from Ada and a few other servants. Someone rushed out of the courtroom, then cameretching. Blood had sprayed across the floor and nearby observers, a stark reminder of the violence that could erupt at any moment in the shadow court.

“Anyone else have opinions about my wife they wish to share?” I asked, my voice echoing in the stunned silence while darkness consumed the spilled blood, erasing all evidence of the execution. No one spoke. No one moved. My cousins watched, appearing slightly bored.

Rezen broke the silence, releasing a low chuckle. “Efficient. Though it lacks the artistry Father prefers.”

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