Page 47 of A Court of Ash and Midnight
“What are you doing here, Aeternas,” he barks, calling him by his house name.
“Several… incidents occurred while the Guardians were deployed to the borders,” Daemon says, cool and calm as if the Commander of the fae armies wasn’t staring him down. “I’ve been waiting for an opportunity to discuss them with you, but the war room has been locked since you returned.”
“What kind of incidents?” Thornne growls.
“First, there was another attempt on Embyr’s life.” Daemon doesn’t look at me, his eyes locked on the Commander. “Very dark magic, more sophisticated than anything I’ve ever seen. It nearly took my own life trying to reverse the spell.”
This draws several looks of surprise from around the table, and one of the Guardians standing behind me even lets out a small murmur of surprise. I can tell it’s more than surprise at the murder attempt; that much is not so shocking. They take Daemon’s assessment of the dark magic very seriously. It’s clear these men and women respect him, even if they don’t like him.
“Then, while we were recovering in the healing ward,” Daemon continues, “an attempt was made on both our lives. Someone tried to burn the place to the ground.”
This doesn’t draw as much of a reaction, it’s clear they’ve already heard this news. No doubt dozens of fae had seen the charred stone in that wing of the castle by now.
“Is that all?” Thornne asks.
“No,” Daemon says. “But I must insist that Professor Julian is present for this last part.”
Thornne’s eyes bulge in his head, a roar seeming to build in his chest, but before he can let it out, someone strides into the room.
“It appears I have impeccable timing, if that’s the case,” Julian says, stopping next to the table, his cloak swirling around him.
I can’t help the small gasp of relief that escapes my throat. But a moment later, Professor Julian levels his gaze on mine, and my heart flips again. It’s something in his gaze… the way he looks at me like he’s about to ask what I want to eat for my last meal. That look absolutely horrifies me.
“So?” Thornne asks, leaning forward in his chair. “What did you find out, Julian?”
They exchange glances. Everyone at the table is staring at the Professor as if he holds the key to something of utmost importance. My chest tightens so much it feels like I’m going to choke.
“I’m afraid something… rather unusual has happened, Embyr,” Julian begins, a frown on his face. “Something that hasn’t occurred in…perhaps a thousand years.”
Out of the corner of my eye, I see Daemon step forward into my line of vision. His jaw is tighter than a bow string, the veins along his neck popping out.
“We did not win the skirmishes at our borders,” Julian continues. “The battles were called off, because our enemies invoked an ancient rite of challenge. This rite, which was used by our ancestors, allows for anyone of royal blood to call for a tournament amongst all the royal houses. The tournament consists of weeks of grueling battles and challenges, both physical and magical. At the end of this tournament, whichever house proves victorious lays claim to the throne.”
I blink, shaking my head. “I don’t understand. What does that have to do with me?”
Julian’s expression is grim. “The challenger was not a fae royal house, but a human one. And they named you, Embyr, as their champion. As the challenger to represent their house in the tournament.”
Chapter Twenty-One
Isit in shockas every pair of eyes in the room pivots to me.
“I—I don’t understand,” I finally manage to stammer.
“House Harkyn, one of five royal human houses in Aureon, has named you as their champion in a challenge to the throne,” Julian says, as if I hadn’t comprehended his words.
“But I don’tknowwho my family is. Why would this House wantmeto represent them in a tournament?”
At the other end of the table, Thornne stands up abruptly, shoving his chair back behind him. “Stop with the lies, girl. I’ve said from the beginning you were a traitor. This is the proof I was looking for.”
The guards standing closest to me step forward, menace in their eyes, but Julian raises a hand. “Wait!”
Stillness falls over the room, though it’s so taut with tension that it feels like the air is humming.
“Embyr isn’t lying.” Julian sweeps his gaze around the table, “And even if she was, it is strictly forbidden by the rules ofthe tournament to harm any champion before the tournament begins. Any house to do so forfeits.”
“Damn the rules!” Thornne growls, his eyes burning into me.
“The rules are bound by magic,” Julian adds hastily. “Very powerful, very ancient magic. The rules cannot be bypassed, and they cannot be broken, unless you wish to suffer a very dark fate indeed.”
