Page 101 of The Light Falls
“I may not be on the throne, but this treaty will live on without me. Whoever inherits this crown will have to honor it. Consider it my gift to the light Fae. All the light Fae.” Okay, I might be the tiniest bit bitter that I won’t be here to see the Lesser Fae get their rights.
Allandra claps loudly when she steps forward. “Congratulations. Although, there are many ways to twist the truth and honor an agreement. The Lesser Fae will find that out when they deal with me.”
“Getting a little ahead of yourself, aren’t you? In a recent council meeting, Solandis said several light Fae have royal blood.” I look to my right. “Lord Camon, for instance, is probably third in line behind me and Solandis. What makes you think the crown will choose you?”
She looks uncertainly behind her.
Lorn steps up with Solandis, a large dagger at her throat.
Vargas snarls and walks over to them. “Are you okay, my love? Did he hit you?”
Her eyes are filled with fear and anger. “No, but he isn’t what he seems.” A bead of blood trickles down her throat.
“Shh,” he admonishes her. “Don’t spill my secrets. Or you and your baby won’t make it out of here alive.”
The crowd goes utterly silent when they hear his words. If there’s one thing the light Fae cherish, it’s children. There are so few of them born to the aristocratic Fae. Several glare furiously at Allandra and Lorn.
I once asked Lorn about the magnetism he seemed to wield against men and women so effortlessly, and he glibly replied something about an ancestor, but I can’t help but wonder if his ancestor is something darker than the light Fae.
“The crown,” Allandra orders me.
I peer down at her and tap the crown that is literally branded on my forehead. “Instructions, please.”
She looks confused.
“It’s not a physical crown. How. Do. I. Take. It. Off?” I grit my teeth to stop myself from calling her an idiot.
Brina pushes Camon forward. “Tell her.”
Hmm, I guess there’s more than one person who wants this crown.
“You renounce the crown and kingdom. When the power starts to flow out of you, the crown will allow you to grab it and pull it off,” he grimaces.
Dread fills me. “In other words, this is going to hurt like hell. Lovely.”
More blood trickles down Solandis’ throat.
“Stop hurting her,” I growl at Lorn.
Vargas clamps a hand down on his wrist.
Closing my eyes, I search for the gossamer threads inside me and the black hole at my center, and tug on them. They shift a little.
Keepers, hear my plea. I gladly give up this throne and crown to save another, but I beg you to examine all the contenders to find the best ruler among them. Not the one with the most royal blood, or the best lineage, but the one who will have the people of the Light Fae Kingdom in their heart. The aristocratic Fae and Lesser Fae. Not one or the other, but both.
With those words, I cut the gossamer threads. Excruciating pain swallows me whole, and I lock my jaw together. Muscles tighten, and my back bows. I grip the arms of the throne to keep my body in the seat. I accepted this crown without a whimper, and I’ll give it up the same way. Power flows out of me piece by piece, along with my ties to the kingdom. My heart breaks at the loss.
The pain eases, and when I look inside, it’s all gone. Except the knowledge. A gift? Or is it harder to take away knowledge than power?
I reach up and grasp the crown and rip it away from my forehead. Gasping, I double over with pain, but a soothing coolness swipes my brow, and the pain recedes.
Thank you to whoever just did that.
Standing tall, I hold the crown in my hand for one last time, then hold it up for everyone to see it in all its glory.
I look at Lorn. “Release her.”
He hesitates, but Allandra gestures at him furiously.
