Page 11 of A Reign of Roses
Wyn pursed his lips. “I’m a skilled fighter. I had to be, to survive outside these walls. Growing up…” His hazel eyes found his knee. “I’ve earned my place in his guard.”
“Is Maddox also hoping to buy his family safe passage to Solaris?”
“Maddox?” Wyn sneered. “Maddox was raised here, and by nobles no less. His first day in the regiment he wore gilded Solaris finery. He’ll lead the lot soon.”
I looked out the lofty window. I couldn’t see much from the dizzying heights of the tower. All of Solaris’s industry and productionclogged the cityscape with thick gray clouds that reminded me of clumps of lint you found in high cabinets and old drawers. An unpleasant reminder of all the grime you never knew was floating around your home.
A knock at the door sounded and Wyn lifted his sensitive leg off the ottoman and hobbled to answer it. The knocks didn’t frighten me. Only the servants knocked. The guards weren’t that polite.
Wyn returned moments later with a teacup and fresh pot of tea and, after placing them on a shiny, varnished armoire, poured me a cup and limped back over. I sipped the fragrant rooibos and licorice in silence, allowing it to soothe my raw vocal cords. All that soundless screaming…When the ivory was drained, the little tea leaves formed a blurry image in the liquid’s wake. I thought it looked like a lamb.
“Why does she despise me so much?” Wyn frowned at me and I rolled my eyes. “I can’t imagine whatever vendetta Octavia has against me is some court secret. Is it my affiliation with Kane? Everyone in Solaris knows him as a great betrayer, right?”
Wyn’s soft curls fluttered with his sigh. “Most have forgotten the rebellion ever even happened. Lazarus ensured that.” He adjusted his leg, clearly debating how much more to share.
I held my breath.
“Octavia, like Lazarus’s late wife, is more witch than Fae, but she does carry the blood of both. I think…” Wyn’s eyes met mine with a wince. “I think she coveted the role you’re being primed for.”
That tea rose up like acid in my stomach. “Shewanted to be queen?”
Wyn only nodded. “But she can’t bear him full-blooded heirs.”
I almost asked what gave Octavia the idea she could rule besideLazarus in the first place, but a new question had formed in my mind.
“Why hasn’t Lazarus come for me yet?”
I’d been here months, and hadn’t seen the Fae king since my first day in Lumera. Since I’d been impaled high above Hemlock Isle, stolen away, and awoken tethered to that luxurious, stifling bed.
Wyn sighed. “Is this your last question?”
“If I say yes, will you answer it truthfully?”
He seemed to consider my question before saying, “You cannot conceive without your lighte.”
“Why drain me then?” Wasn’t that the sole reason Lazarus was keeping me alive? To impregnate me with more true Fae that only the two of us could create? “What does he need my harvested lighte for so urgently?”
Wyn remained quiet, though his eyes weren’t displeased. Maybe just tired. Either way, I knew my probing was futile. I’d squeezed every answer I could from him.
My gaze found the golden spires peeking through smog outside my window. “Is it winter yet?”
“I thought that was your last question.”
When I remained silent his shoulders sagged. “No. The winter solstice is a week from today.”
I nodded at my palms. “That means tomorrow is my birthday.”
I would be twenty-one.
Twenty-one, and a prisoner. Held in a tower so high I might never see the ground again. Awaiting a fate worse than death, each day dragging me closer, and without a bead of lighte, single ally, or even halfway-plausible escape route.
Twenty-one, and wasting away.
And later that night, like all nights, I fell asleep to nightmares soferocious, so abhorrent, I’d come to resent my own mind for crafting them. Leigh, weeping over our mother’s body. Spiders with women’s heads and wolfbeasts and gray, scaled dragons. Kane, soaked in blood, sputtering for life.
When I awoke, sweaty and panting, there was something new obscuring my vision. A nondescript brown box tied with twine, sitting atop my pillow.
With less caution than I should have employed, I wiped the sleep from my eyes and pried it open.
