Page 19 of The Crown of a Fallen Queen
She’s the embodiment of rebellion, wildness, and recklessness. Everything I grew up being warned against. A criminal, a temptress.
I can’t look away.
“What happens if you, the Fallen Queen, regain power?” I let the words settle. “My mother’s advisors once served you. They’re terrified of reprisal. Each of them commands an army of archers, and I hear they’d rather not risk your ire. In a matter of days, it’ll be open season for you. And the one who brings home your head will be hailed a hero.” I set my cup down with a deliberateclink. “If you don’t believe me, ask Elio. He wants me to escort you to Wintermere, so he can protect you.”
Devi’s fingers tighten around her cup. “That’s why Elio sent you.” Her voice is quiet now. “But why not kill me yourself?”
A humorless laugh scrapes my throat. “Err—Elio didn’t just mention your tracking skills. He told me about your past. How you almost sided with the Lord of the Tides, once upon a time.”
Her spine stiffens. “Elio should mind his own secrets and leave mine unspoken. You can show yourself out.”
“Wait. Elio only told me because my brother is the Lord of the Tides’ second-in-command, and I’m desperate to find him.”
She pauses mid-turn, one brow lifting. “Maddox? That’s hard to believe.”
“Not Maddox. My younger brother. He’s barely of age but powerful. He was recruited into the Tides by your old friend, Morrigan.”
Devi bares her teeth but sinks back onto the stool. “Rye isn’t my friend. Not anymore.”
Morrigan “Rye” Quinn was the reason Devi stood trial, the reason she lost everything. If she hadn’t been Oberon Eros’ only living heir, they’d have killed her outright.
“But you were one of them, weren’t you? A Tidecaller?” I ask, testing the waters.
She purses her lips. “The Lord of the Tides used to be a close friend of mine, that I’ll admit.”
“Could you find him?”
“Mm. Maybe.”
I tap the knife’s edge of my hand against the table, knowing this is my last chance to pitch. “Faerie is splintered. Winter, Shadow, and Summer stand on one side, while the Red Queen has renewed her alliance with Ethan Lightbringer. My mother will cling to her crown until her dying breath, and she's close with Ethan, too. Storm is poised to break the tie. The winning side will decide how the rebels are dealt with, how our laws, alliances, and magics will be reshaped now that the Eternal Chalice is no more. Whatever happens in the next few months, Faerie will never be the same again.”
“You’ve got that right.” She pauses like she’s choosing her next words carefully. “The Tidecallers used to advocate for democracy, but the way magic works makes passing down crowns impossible.”
I take another swig of tea. “I don’t disagree that democracy wouldn’t work, but why impossible? You passed down your crown, didn’t you?”
Some secrets never make it into books. They say becoming king is like having your eyes opened to the Faerie sight a second time, and Devi is one of the only people alive, besides the seven reigning monarchs, who truly knows what that means.
A shiver quakes through her. “Let’s just say that for the magic not to fester, the roots running through the earth and culminating at each realm’s Hawthorn need a living vessel to enact their gods’ will. Whether that’s a king or a queen, the vessel is bound to it forever, no matter what. And as long as the seven crowns exist, people will fight over them.”
“Seven crowns are better than one. Doing away with them altogether would bring nothing but ruin. We saw what happenedwhen the Mists’ Hawthorn was scorched. I wouldn’t wish that on my worst enemy.” I pause, thinking of what the Mist Fae endured. “My brother is chasing a pipe dream. Destroying the Eternal Chalice wiped out our only chance to elect new rulers. Now, the gods’ will determines who takes the throne.” I lean in, almost reaching for her hand but stopping at the last second. “We have to lead by example, show that even enemies can come together for the greater good.”
She doesn’t soften.
I clear my throat, wary of her distrust. I don’t want to oversell it either and make it seem as though I’m trying to manipulate her. “I’m a pragmatist, and I don’t want to live in a world where Ethan Lightbringer and his Red Priestesses rise to power again. Do you?”
She purses her lips. “Are you plotting against your own mother?”
“I’m saying that with your help, we might sway the crowns’ response, negotiate a truce with the Tidecallers, and end this war before it begins.”
“And what do you get out of it?”
I catch a grin from surfacing. “Aren’t I allowed to have strong, altruistic beliefs?”
She snorts.
I tilt my head back, my gaze flying up to the ceiling in surrender. “Ugh. I love my brother. I don’t want him executed, and I certainly don’t want to see Faerie razed by war, but I have no real seat at the table as it is.” I wet my lips. “With you by my side, the Spring Court will be united once more, and stronger for it. The High Fae that are still secretly on your side will rally, and when my mother dies, you’ll be queen again.”
Her eyes slip shut, and she licks her lips, the scenario I’m proposing both sweet and forbidden. “But you wouldn’t want Freya to die at my hands,” she murmurs.
