Page 21 of The Light (Dark Fae: Black World 5)

I understand. I know.

I know of Elden and his disregard of protection, of roles, of what must be—and instead he does whatever he likes. As April said, I might be on loan from anther prince, but Elden is …thedark prince, and he does as he pleases.

I’m not given a moment more to process this sudden change of fate.

The door to my side whips open and in bursts a gust of icy wind that tells me we have moved into the time of the First Wind before the Quiet comes.

Prince Daein stands at my side now, and with a stony mask for a face that he doesn’t aim my way (always watching his wife who hardly ever looks at him), he extends his gloved hand to me almost absentmindedly.

It is colder here in these lands, I think, as I take the offered hand. I climb gracefully out to the carriage, despite every instinct within me attempting to force my muscles into fleeing.

Prince Daein releases me as soon as my sandals land flat on the cobblestone. He swiftly turns and strides for the atrium ahead, and I know my place enough to follow silently behind him, hands tucked behind my back as a new slave entering a new royal abode, and keeping my head so low that my chin is almost tucked into my neck.

My heart hammers in my chest as we enter the atrium—and I don’t dare lift my head enough to look around me. I care little for this inky castle, and I care nothing to take it all in.

I want to return tomyhome,Ocean’spalace, tomyprince.

Following the prince, we move through the atrium and all I can see are the toes of my sandals poking out from the floor-length black dress (a rather ordinary one) that adorns me. A house slave meets us midway and leads us around a black fountain that spews dark water like sludge that makes a faintslap, slap, slapsound.

We are led to a blackwood door that’s ajar.

The prince pauses and, with a curt gesture of his hand and no look spared my way, he makes it clear that I am to wait outside. So I do, and he disappears into the room, leaving the door slightly open behind him.

I turn, pressing my back against the wall, and avoiding the lingering stares of guards and loitering house slaves.

And I wait.

10

APRIL

Some moments pass us by in the carriage after Daein stole away the concubine, Ember, and in those moments, the glare of my daughter pierces through me like one of her swords.

She judges me for warning the Halfling of her fate, and I wonder where I went wrong in raising and creating such a monster. No empathy, no compassion, no care for anything or anyone but herself. And perhaps Affay.

I don’t take the bait that she dangles with her moody looks my way.

My mind is fuming, churning around her betrayal in chaos. This—this moment alone in the carriage with her petulance—feels so much like the last straw. It’s the first time I have ever wanted to strike her. And I am not that person.

I’m not the person to hit others. Especially my daughter.

But so long of this treatment from her, and now after she has spilled such a dangerous secret about me to impress a boy, and I feel so detached from her. If I didn’t still love her, I would hate her.

Is that a terrible thing to think about one’s own child?

Isn’t this love meant to be unconditional? But at what point does it simply start to fade away? Feels like it’s fading away now…

In its place, anger is rising. I feel it lick up my bones like flames, heating my face that turns pink, and clenching my hands into fists. My jaw tightens as, finally, I slowly turn my darkening face on my daughter.

Our gazes lock, and the sudden surge of fury in my chest startles me. I swallow it back, seeing none of myself in the girl I face, seeing none of myself in how she was raised or turned out to be.

Ensley breaks the silence first. It’s a simple statement. One I’ve heard many times before. “I wish you had died that day.”

That day I gave my life for yours….

No matter the sacrifices I made for her, she hates me always.

But this time, I don’t crumble under the pain. I rise up with the hatred I’m starting to feel for her.

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