Page 42 of A Reign of Roses
Lazarus turned to greet a heavyset man who ambled over to the banquet table with surprising grace given his size. He bowed to his king, and under layers and layers of rich green robes his large body jiggled with the movement.
“My truest apologies to have missed the gift-giving. But I did not arrive empty-handed.”
“What kind of gifts?” I asked them both.
Knowledge was the only currency I’d be able to spend on an escape.
The weighty man’s already-pink cheeks deepened their rosy hue. “My son is young, but already shows significant strength. The missus and I were able to juice him of almost a gallon.”
My face held no neutrality. Not a drop. I knew it was not only shock—but repugnance—that contorted my expression. “You and your wife…drained your own child of his lighte?”
Interest sparked in Lazarus’s eyes when he cut them to me.
The man in question didn’t falter. “But of course! ’Tis the Solstice. And we had an abundant bounty.”
Lazarus gave the man a generous nod.
“Butwhy?”
The man’s fuzzy brows lowered as he considered me, eyes sliding back and forth between Lazarus and me. The Fae king nodded at me as if to say,Go on, tell her.
“His Majesty has built a sanctuary here in Solaris. His court is bountiful and lush. He will conquer new realms for us to grow and become stronger…It’s the least we can do, for our king.”
Bountiful and lush?I’d only noticed the lack of flowers, of wood, of cheer, but now my eyes found the hanging, glittering stars of lighte, the decadent banquet spread, the extravagant clothes and jewels…
The portly man took my stunned silence as dismissal and bowed once more before leaving us. Lazarus only released a brazen laugh and returned to his chalice.
He wasn’t just stealing lighte from his people. His own subjects were giving it to himwillingly. I almost hurt for them, falling for his fantastical lies. His power reviled me, of course, but theabuseof such staggering power…Such a malicious, smug display of utter control. Such brainwashing of his stupidly loyal court.
“They think you’re going to save them from the wasteland that is Solaris. They’re sycophants, and fools, but you…” I studied his clean-shaven, coldly handsome face. “You plan to start an entirely new world without them. You feed off theirhope.”
Lazarus shrugged. “I only make promises I intend to keep. I will rebuild Solaris to its former glory. And I’ll craft Evendell into the same for our offspring. The Fae here will throw themselves at my feet for what I’ll have built them. Whatwewill have built them.”
“At what cost? Look at what your attempts here in Solaris have already done! All your finery and weapons and palaces with baths large enough to wash ten cities…Your greed hasruinedthe realm. How can you not see how wrong it all is?” I gestured at the banquet, the dancers—an entire celebration for reaping resources from innocent people.
Lazarus didn’t even balk. His eyes only skated over me, rife with pity. “I’m sorry that’s how you see it.”
I fought the urge to gouge at his eyes with one of my three forks.
“Go for the snail fork. Sharpest prongs of the lot.”
Nausea engulfed me.
He was inside my mind again.
Which meant—
Lazarus didn’t unleash his gloating, gleaming grin. He didn’t raise a full graying eyebrow in my direction. He only nodded once, confirming my fears before turning to the noble Fae across the banquet table in jovial discussion.
Lazarus had regained his lighte. And I—
I couldn’t feel anything yet, but I had no doubt I’d recover my lighte tonight, too. It had been three days since my last harvesting. And I was getting stronger. Every time they took my essence from me, it was as if my body was so angry, so fueled by rage, it replenished itself that much quicker.
And Lazarus was the most calculating, shrewd monster I’d ever met. He’d planned patiently fordecadesto wage war on his last living son so that he could ensure his win.
He’d taken a dose of lighte just as mine had regenerated.
Which meant now we were both powerful enough to conceive a full-blooded heir. He’d waited for the right moment like a toad eyeing a fat, fuzzy fly untilsnap—he latched his tongue around his prize. And tonight—I understood with perfect clarity and mind-numbing horror—that prize, thatharvest, wasn’t lighte.
