Page 29 of Songs of Retribution

He smoothed down his velvet dress coat. "I pulled you aside because I know why you're here, cousin." My bewildered expression must have pasted across my face judging by the grin he offered. I had a pinch of regret over not using my glamour anymore. "Correct me if I'm wrong, but you've aligned with the Prasanna court to stand against your father and came here seeking soldiers for your cause."

"Well…" I stumbled over a response, surprised he'd been so to the point. "We're looking to make alliances, yes. The Prasanna are not our enemies. My father crafted lies about my mother's death."

"Oh, I know that." He shrugged.

"Do you?"

"Of course. I told you Margaret and I were close. She informed me of her plans to reunite the fae realms and her travels to achieve that. She believed unwaveringly that her children were divinely called to do so. Of course,"—his voice took a lower, sadder tone—"she had only the one."

I could feel the weight of Mother's expectations rippling across time and landing on my shoulders. "Join me then. Align with the Prasanna and help me change our future for the better."

He took a deep breath and stepped away from the window before wiping his hand over his jaw. "Would I, if I could, Lennox."

I stepped closer to him as something bold burned through me. "If your hesitation is due to who I'm in a relationship with, I can assure you I will put the Seelie first. And I have a sister—a child of Father's—as well. We can work together to assure the Seelie of our ability to steer the country."

"It's not that." He clasped his hands together. "You're aware that the southwest portion of our country borders the Seelie lands. I cannot risk the welfare of my people, as much as I wish to help you."

"It would be to your people's benefit. My father's aim is for the Seelie court to be the last remaining one and to wipe out magic in our world."

The King's brow furrowed. "We have always held a tenuous relationship with the Seelie, but we've managed. It may be a risk to maintain that connection, however, aligning with your goal—though I personally support it—guarantees the Seelie’s wrath on our court. I fear it is a gamble I cannot take."

A puff left me, yet I couldn't back down. This was too crucial. Margo's notebook showed the depths that my father would dig to destroy the other fae courts. He scoured the earth for ancient magic hoping to destroy the Prasanna. The Froh would be next.

"This isn't just about me or stopping my father. It's about protecting your court for the future."

"I agree." He looked down at the muted blue and sage rug beneath his polished shoes. "Which is why I cannot join you." He raised his face and his expression was grave. "The Prasanna is a powerful court, but when it comes to military campaigns and what your father will do to succeed in them no court can compare."

My breathing had picked up, raising my chest in rapid pants. "You're counting this fight over before it begins. You're dooming our cause and the Prasanna."

"I'm doing what leaders must do—our hardest task which I pray, cousin, you soon are able to understand. If I align with you, I guarantee hardship for my court. If I keep my current stance, I'm likely to save my court." He gripped my arm, and it grew warm, flames eager to leap out and make him snatch his hand back, though I kept them tamped down. "My decision on this is final. I know how precious your time is presently, and I don't want to waste any of it by holding you here for weeks with false hope. I am sorry for it, Lennox."

My mouth parted to argue with him, to point out that the Prasanna had memory magic, that Shaan had magic over death. I'd agreed not to mention the Alegre yet and our potential connection with the elves was too precarious to have value, but I didn't see our aim as hopeless. I'd expected him to agree with me.

As his hand dropped away, I squared my shoulders. "Respectfully, you are making a mistake. You gamble your future relations with multiple courts. Shall we win, you will have lost respect. Shall we lose, and perhaps your court falls with my father's tyrannical aim, you will always wonder if you could have helped change history."

The King studied me for a long moment, his lips pinching in. "I hope that is not the case, but as I said, my stance on this is final."

I curled my fingers into a fist and shoved it behind my back. I would benefit no one by destroying connections I had with the Froh King and my mother's court. If we succeeded and Lira or I took the Seelie throne, we'd need every ally we could garner. Plus, Frederick was correct. Our countries shared borders and becoming enemies would only harm us both.

I bowed briskly. "If you'll excuse me, I'd like to take you up on your offer of hospitality and refresh myself from the travel."

His brow furrowed, and he seemed to have something he wished to add, but he gave his head a shake. "Of course."

I followed a guard out of the room and along halls I scarcely paid attention to. When they stopped and gestured to a door, I opened it and stepped in, hopelessness pulling me down.

I wasn't supposed to be the useless, ineffective prince anymore. I'd changed—fought hard to do so. Yet the biggest role I could play in this already fell apart like a shattered mirror.

Shaan sat in a chair facing a panoramic window that overlooked the mountain and dark fir trees. He had bound paper on his lap and a nub of charcoal in his fingers. He looked up at me and smiled. "I'm surprised at the minimal amount of judgment the attendant who led me here gave after she realized we'd be sharing."

He frowned once he caught sight of my expression, jumped up, dropping the sketch and charcoal on a table. I strode across the room and wrapped my arms around him, shuddering as the comfort of his touch roiled through me. He slid his hands along my back. "What is it?"

I nuzzled my nose into his neck but couldn't come up with words. If we couldn't gather support, what chance did we have to stand against Father's troops? We had Shaan, but I wasn't sure if he'd use his powers. He would if his court faced doom, though, wouldn't he? Uncertainty caused me to burrow tighter, and he tugged me to him like he'd seal us together.

I raised my face and rested my chin on his shoulder. The drawing he'd been working on contrasted against the table’s dark grain. He'd captured the view perfectly, but he'd only sketched the shadows and gloomy sky and jagged cliff faces. He'd only captured the darkness that stretched before us.

CHAPTERTWELVE

NEIA

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