Page 64 of Atop the Faerie Throne
“When that’s done, and Elfhame is secure, we’ll blink home and deal with Eero,” I promise. “I’ll tell Kitarni to encourage the Temple to speak out about him. I don’t need an uprising. I just want them to stand aside when I walk into his home and take his head.”
And if they can keep him busy in his own court, then we won’t have to worry about him launching any attacks on us.
“Do you have a plan for that?” Aiyana asks, raising her brow. “Because taking the head of someone with impenetrable skin?—”
“I’ve been told my grandmother had some success with forcing them to eat iron.” I level the spring queen with my frostiest glare. “After how Eero treated my Guard, I have no issue following in her footsteps.”
It’s a threat, and I make sure she knows it when she dares to meet my eyes for half a second.
She tortured Jaro for her own sick amusement. Caed, too, though she thought him her enemy at the time. I haven’t forgotten. It would’ve been easier had she fallen in battle, but I shouldn’t be so surprised that she lived.
One day, Aiyana will die, either by my order or my hand. Right now, Faerie needs stability, but the moment it doesn’t…
I won’t hold back.
She senses that, because she shuts her mouth and bows stiffly.
Ashton grins like I’ve done something funny, or perhaps he somehow senses the direction my thoughts are travelling in and approves. “Well, this was good exercise for the army, but I’m taking my troops back to Calimnel at dawn.”
That’s sudden, but honestly, it’s a relief. I don’t want to host the armies of three courts on top of the Temple Guard. We don’t have the resources to feed them for a start.
“There’s to be a feast to celebrate our victory,” I inform him. “I hope you’ll attend.”
Ashton inclines his head dutifully on his way past me. “Of course. Do make sure that whatever you do to Eero is painful. My court could do with some entertaining gossip.”
“The Hellebore knights have requested leave to remain and help with the rebuilding,” Aiyana says. “But the rest of my troops and I are leaving as soon as we’ve collected our dead.”
“As will I,” Cressida grumbles. “You might be happy to leave that serpent to stew in his sun-drenched halls, but I’m not about to risk an invasion from the south next.”
They exit the tent, their generals filing after them, leaving me to slump over the map with only my Guard to see.
“I’m messing this up,” I murmur. “No matter which way I turn, I’m leaving an enemy at my back and praying that they don’t attack.”
“Are we really feeding Eero iron?” Lore asks, eagerly. “Because I have this new knife that I really, really, really want to test on unbreakable skin.”
Biting my lip, I sigh. “I’m not certain yet, but I wouldn’t do it without you.”
“The armies are tired,” Jaro mutters. “Tonight will do them good, but marching them straight to Siabetha is a big ask…”
“I don’t want to take an army,” I protest.
Bree’s brows rise. “You can’t win a city without an army, dragonfly.”
Swallowing, I meet his eyes. “The only one who needs to die is Eero. I’ll win the city with kindness. You’ve seen how the fae treat their Nicnevin. I blew up a building, and they still bowed.”
“You know,” Mab says, tracing the edge of the table with her finger. “That’s not a terrible idea. His heir still enjoys considerable support from the nobles, and there are already whispers of her usurping him.”
Encouraged by her support, I continue. “I don’tneedto fight the summer fae. Eero hasn’t moved against me, because he knows getting the fae to march against their Nicnevin is going to be hard. I want to send aid to the city, if we can. With that, and the Temple spreading word of what happened here, I don’t think it will take long to turn the people against him.”
We’ll need information, and I silently resolve to have my guides continue to keep an eye on the summer king. It’ll beeasier if he thinks we’re distracted by rebuilding our city. With any luck, he’ll become complacent.
“And Elatha?” Caed asks, pinning me in place with the force of his blue stare. “Are we just letting him retreat and leaving him to unleash an ancient evil on his own time?”
“Historically, that’s what we do,” Jaro says, shrugging. “What good would it do to fight him inside a mountain full of iron? We’d be inviting him to annihilate us.”
“Besides,” Drystan adds. “No fae ship has ever survived the journey. Unless you have some way to fix that, Fomorian?”
Caed shrugs. “I’m not a sailor, so no. I can’t tell you where you’re going wrong. Prae might be able to, but she’s always been more into weapons than boats. If you’re hoping we’re going to lead a glorious fae invasion of Fellgotha, then you’re sorely mistaken.”
