Page 2 of The Light Falls
With a fierce look, he stops me. “Once you accept the crown, you’ll have a target on your back. Don’t try to navigate the politics or court intrigue by yourself. Rely on Solandis. She grew up in this world,” he orders me, a note of worry in his voice. “The captain owed me a favor, and I asked him to assign his most trusted soldiers to be your personal guard. He’s also going to assign someone to you for defensive training. Keep your guard up at all times. Trust nobody.” In a rare sign of agitation, he thrusts a hand through his wavy black hair. “I’ll check in on you regularly. Be careful.”
A sliver of gratitude rolls across my shoulders, but I take a deep breath and shrug it off. “Don’t worry. I learned my lesson long ago. The only people I trust are family—Callyx, Arden, and Solandis. They’ve never let me down.”
His mouth hardens when the words hit him, but I refuse to flinch, not when the past sits between us like an immovable object.
I turn to face the imposing doors at the end of the hall. Twenty feet tall and made of gold, each of the engraved doors tells the origin of the Fae, the cleaving of the land and people into light and dark, and the brilliant rise of the light Fae. It’s a powerful reminder to all who enter of their heritage.
For me, those doors symbolize the future, not the past. The next chapter of my life. One where I’m powerful, not weak. A world full of magic and filled with Fae like me. No sorceress, demons, or criminals allowed unless I give them permission. I glance at Cormal one last time.
He bends down to whisper harshly in my ear. “You have everything you need to be queen, but you’re going to have to fight like hell to stay in power. Don’t let anyone take your crown from you.” Straightening, he releases me and steps into the shadows.
A shiver runs down my spine as his voice echoes inside me. I want to dismiss the warning, but Cormal’s damn good at strategy. He sees and anticipates more than most. It’s how he stays on top of the largest criminal empire in any realm. King of a bloodthirsty and brutal hill.
After a moment, I lift my chin, turn to the doors, and wave my hand.
They soundlessly glide open to reveal a cavernous room specifically designed to serve the light Fae court. Tall, golden columns rise fifty feet in the air to the gilded ceiling, giving the room its grandeur. Instead of chandeliers, magic spheres bathe the room in a golden glow. Tiny decorative swirls and filigree mirrors grace the walls on both sides of the room, but they pale in comparison to the magnificence of the back wall. Gold climbing vines cover the entire surface from floor to ceiling. Nestled within the delicate arms and branches, brilliant flowers made of colorful jewels wink in the light. High above, a massive sun shines fairy light down on the entire scene. It’s an utterly breathtaking homage to the land.
My gaze moves from the room to the light Fae court. Dressed in their finest attire, they flank the center path, all eyes locked on me. I smile but none return the gesture. It’s as if they’re frozen. Not a whisper of sound or movement breaks the absolute stillness of the room.
My nerves flare, but I clamp down on them. Deliberately blurring their faces, I search for Solandis. I don’t have to look very long.
Elegantly regal in a royal purple gown that clings to her every curve, she moves to the center of the room, and with a serene smile gracing her face, beckons me forward.
Releasing my breath, I enter the coronation hall. The second my foot crosses the threshold, the smell of spring surrounds me. Honeysuckle, newly grown grass, and a bouquet of blooming flowers fill the air, and I automatically breathe in their enticing scents. Buzzing bees and the melodic sound of a nearby stream instantly soothes my racing heart. And when the warmth of the sun hits my bare shoulders, it makes me want to raise my face to the sky to bask in its glory. The land is present here, welcoming every light Fae who enters those doors… including me. I belong here. The overwhelming doubt and fear I’ve felt all day eases to a dull roar.
When I reach Solandis, I drop into a low curtsy to pay my respects. Until I’m crowned, she is the highest-ranking royal Fae in the room, even if she refuses to accept the position of queen. I’ve begged her to reconsider so many times, but she insists the power is calling for me. And whether Vargas is alive or not—and she truly believes he is—it’s her destiny to follow a different path.
When I rise, Solandis gestures for me to proceed down the center of the path.
Every step carries me toward the wooden throne on the dais. Pure white and made of wood, there are no decorative ornaments or color to distract from its appearance, only the faintest impression of a crown imprinted on the back. The ancient throne magically appears for every coronation. Fae believe the enchanted wood is carved from a sacred tree in the Wilds. A mystical forest that thrives between the light and dark where few dare to venture, except, of course, the Wild Hunt, who calls it home.
With a practiced move, I sweep my dress into my hands and carefully navigate the three steps, then turn to face the crowd. Solandis moves to my right. This is it. One quiet deep breath in, and I sit on the throne.
The collective stillness of the room deepens as everyone watches for the slightest hint of rejection. When nothing happens, I release the breath I’ve been holding and nod at Solandis.
She holds her hands up high, and a crown appears in them. For the briefest of moments, she pauses, and sadness crosses her face.
Nyssa.She must be thinking of her coronation. Solandis did the same for her sister that she now does for me. Nyssa’s daughter.
A dip of her chin has me holding my hands out. This is the second test. If the crown rejects me, it will simply disappear. When I envisioned this moment, my hands were trembling, and the Fae were sneering with disdain. But to my tremendous relief, they’re completely steady, and the faces around me are emotionless.
Solandis lays the crown in my hands.
I’m surprised to see it’s almost an exact replica of the wall behind the throne. A circle of intricate gold branches intertwined with delicate-looking jeweled flowers, but unlike the wall, these are all diamonds. Similar to the throne, the crown is ancient and filled with the magic of the land.
For a minute or two, it does nothing. I continue to hold it high. Either I’m the queen it wants or I’m not. There’s nothing more I can do. I wait for it to decide.
The Fae push closer. Signs of emotion appear—the lift of an eyebrow, a slight tilt of a head, a spark of glee, and, of course, the dreaded half smirk.
I continue to wait.
Moments later, the branches begin to move. Thorns appear. One extends to prick my finger. It absorbs my blood, and the crown begins to glow.
The tiniest tremble shakes my hands when I realize it’s truly happening.
Straightening on the throne, I carefully place the crown on my head. The bright golden light encompassing the crown spreads to cover my entire body. Power, sharp and piercing like a live wire, begins to flow in my veins, bringing me knowledge of the kingdom. The way it looks, smells, tastes, and sounds. Power races to each corner of the land, mapping boundaries in my mind.
The exhaustiveness of the information is almost overwhelming, and my back arches from the strain. Digging my hands into the arms of the hard chair, I continue to ride out the wave, refusing to let one sound leave my lips. Pain is nothing. I have Leandra, the sorceress and my illustrious guardian, to thank for those lessons.
