Page 88 of A Story of Sinners

Dahlia’s voice was barely a whisper as I slid my hand away from paradise and slowly untied the ribbon around our wrists. “Isn’t the Dullahan a harbinger of death?”

“Yes. Get dressed, Your Majesty. We need to attend to our subjects.”

Her lids fluttered as it finally hit her—she wasn’t just my wife or my mate anymore. She was the High Queen of Faerie, but there was little joy to be found in her eyes; only worry.

What a horrible time to become queen. I’d planned a coronation a few days from now, a moment for her to revel in and enjoy the spotlight, followed with a ball in her honor. Who knew if we would even make it to that?

The two of us dressed slowly and then paced beside one another on our way to the throne room. The room was packed with the four lords of each of the five courts, as well as numerous high Fae, covens of witches, and every mage in existence. Fin was in attendance, peering out the window with his father beside him, anxiously awaiting the arrival of the Dullahan.

Two thrones occupied the dais, and I took Dahlia’s hand, leading her to hers. She sat delicately, settling into the plush velvet material, clearly self-conscious. I dropped into the throne beside hers, head in my hands, and groaned.

“Go on—tell me what’s happened.”

So many voices spoke at once, too many voices. I held my hand up, hushing all of them. “Lords and Ladies only, please.”

Lord August left his son’s side and joined Evander and Kieran, and the Lord of Autumn, who’d remained hidden away since I’d become king. Lady Lyra was not in attendance, though she’d been the one to send for me.

Odd.

Lord August spoke first. “The Dullahan stopped by each court, naming nearly everyone of fighting age. He appeared at each dragon’s house along the cliff face, floating on air to call out their names. His presence was warded away with gold before he could finish speaking.”

Evander spoke next, a long bow and collection of golden arrows strapped to his back. “It was much the same in the summer court.” Lord Flynn of Autumn echoed his sentiment.

“Kieran, was it the same in the winter court?” I asked.

He only nodded, and I shook my head. This was not good.

The sounds of baying hounds and the clomping of hooves echoed outside the palace windows, announcing the arrival of the Dullahan. I jumped from the throne and joined Fin, staring out the window, the four Lords at my back.

The windows flew open, as if torn apart by a gust of wind, breaking the wooden panes. The headless horseman floated in on a black steed, suspended in air and surrounded by a dark gray cloud. He held his head in his arms, sockets flaming with fire, lips moving though separated from his body.

Names poured from that head, and Evander set a golden arrow into his bow. “Shoot him,” I shouted. “Shoot him before he continues.”

Evander loosed a golden bow, missing the horseman, and then tried again.

He missed.

My name was spoken.

I wouldn’t let Dahlia’s name be spoken too.

I tore the bow from Evander’s grip, along with the last golden arrow, and set it, breathing deeply as I took aim. Before I could fire, Dahlia was at the window, eyes glowing bright gold.

The fire in the horseman’s eyes seemed to flicker in response, reflecting something akin to fear. Bright golden tendrils burst from her hands, targeting the harbinger of death.

He vanished before her power could even reach him.

Her eyes were wild, an expression of pure panic on her face. “He said your name,” she whispered. “Why did he say your name?”

I pulled her into me, her body shaking as I held tight. “It will be fine, little crow. He’s spoken everyone’s name. I’ll be fine, I promise.”

I meant it. I would be fine.

Because her name hadn’t been spoken.

* * *

Night had fallen, and the dragons patrolled the skies, locating Aiden’s army just outside of the barrier. Aiden’s army was almost always outside the barrier, and he had never succeeded at finding a way in. It was just a standard night, minus the fact that the King of Cambriel had made an appearance.

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