Page 105 of The King's Queen

“But it doesn’t make sense. She’d be mixed, you’re not-“ Lucius grasps for straws. Was he trying to save me? No, foolish thought. He doesn’t care who he hurts to get what he wants.

But mixed? How would I be mixed if…

Rowan.

Emilie is blessed. Rowan is a hybrid. If Ophelus is truly Rowan’s father, then…

My father is cursed, and I am not his daughter.

“I don’t know where Irene found the baby.” Ophelus waves his hand dismissively, not bothering to unpack that at all or meet my eye.

I don’t know where Irene found the baby.All my life, he knew I wasn’t his. Irene wasn’t my mother. The thought almost makes me sob with joy when sorrow grips at the edges of my heart. I was someone else’s, someone who probably spent their lifetime searching for me. Someone who wanted to love me. I think back to Aiko and Finneas, their warm smiles and outstretched arms. The deep sorrow imbedded in her deep and serene eyes. I could have been loved by someone like them.

Another arrow of thought pierces my heart. Rowan and me. We aren’t related. Does he know? I want to chide myself for thinking that. I’m about to be served upon a silver platter to create some godforsaken monster, and all I can think about is him? The boy who left. The boy who held my heart and broke it. The boy who apparently is not my brother. Well, if I’m going to die a sacrifice, at least I know I wasn’t an incestuous one.

“Bring her,” Ophelus finally commands, handing my fiancé a polished obsidian dagger. It glints and sparks with lilac magic, and it would have been beautiful if I hadn’t had known it sought my heart. His Adam’s apple bobs as he swallows hard, his forehead glistening with new beads of sweat. He accepts the dagger surely with shaking hands, before beginning towards me.

“Wait, if you kill me, you’ll never find Rowan!” Ophelus’ eyes widen as I swallow thickly. He raises a gnarled hand; his fingertips stained a dark inky shade. Lucius halts, and I take it as my cue to speak. “Only I know where he is. He told me before he left the palace grounds. You need me to find your son and Emilie.”

The king’s gaze focuses for just a moment before returning to its previous glassy state. “Emilie,” he repeats, rolling the name around on his tongue. “Emilie.” Lucius pauses as if unsure whether to continue, the dagger sitting idle in his hands. The guards standing by the door don’t move, and I wonder if they are even breathing. Even alive.

“He plans on leaving. He and Emilie are going to leave the continent together, then you’ll never see your son or wife again.”

“My wife is dead.” Ophelus smiles cruelly as he takes me in fully this time. Perhaps he is noticing for the first time that I share Irene’s same dark hair and blue eyes. “I killed her.”

My heart stumbles, and I feel my leverage falter. I always knew that he had lied about my mother’s death. The whole kingdom believed she was mauled to death by wolves, and it was believable seeing as her fingers had been chewed off and her eyes ripped from their sockets. But I knew the truth because I had seen the body. The same dark presence that I feel pressing on me now was present then, almost as if it was originating from inside her rotting body. That hadn’t been that far-fetched either, given the type of woman that she was.

Yet I had seen the marks that damned her. The bruises and morphed terror on her face. The dried blood that dribbled from her ears and lips. That coated her teeth. Wolves go for soft spots; the eyes were a plausible alibi. But wolves eat organs, they don’t crush them.

I knew immediately it was murder, and a death at the hands of dark magic no less. However, there haven’t been any factions of dark mages in years, not since the late king’s father killed them all. The rebellion is as close as we have gotten to these factions and yet no dark magic arose.

Until now.

“Your love,” I amend. “You will never see your son or your love again. Not if you kill me.”

It is Lucius who speaks next, his voice surprisingly strong despite our recent discoveries. “Ophelus, my king. She could be lying. If you want to find them, you need a pureblood. Sacrifice is the only surefire way.” He searches my face for any sign of understanding. “I wish there was another way.”

The way he speaks forces me to believe him, that he truly does wish he could save me. Just not enough to give up whatever end goal he has in mind. I scoff. He was never trying to save me. Within that twisted head of his, he has been weighing the cost to benefit of our every word exchanged, deciding whether there was information I held over him. Power I held over him.

Furiously, I try to pull from that well of power from within me. I focus on pushing a steady stream of light from the warm glow emitted by the torches and searing a cavity into his chest. My magic sputters against the Etherbane still coursing through my blood, eventually dimming to the point of invisibility. I curse in frustration. Powerless and trapped. I will need to rely on my training to break out.

Watching my failed attempt at a deadly light show, Ophelus makes his decision.

“Bring her here.”

I suck in a sharp breath as my fiancé advances once more. That dark blade in his hand sings once it reaches my proximity, and that dark power pushes against my senses once more. I inhale sharply, preparing for the performance of my life. I bite my lip hard enough to sting, and tears spring to my eyes.

“Don’t come near me.” The sob escapes my throat before I can stop it, raw and unhinged. It comes from somewhere deeper than I had access to. It comes from a girl far too familiar with betrayal and abandonment. Somewhere deeper still underneath it all is fury. The burning rage of the mage spited, ancestors murdered. Both of these men kept the truth from me; they surpassed my past.

Ophelus stole me from my home and those who could have loved me. So I will escape then steal his life.

Lucius stands before me down, his dark hair free from its usual slicked back style. Dark circles reside underneath those blood shot eyes, sinking deep into his fair skin. His face softens, his shoulders dropping in sorrow.

“My love, please.“

“Don’t you dare!” I hiss and bite his hand when he reaches for me. He recoils in shock at the blood drawn as I spit a chunk of his flesh from between my lips. If they want to cage and slaughter me like an animal, then fine. An animal I will become.

Lucius looks to be on the brink of tears at my insinuation. Like he actually cares for me. “You must understand. My mother-“

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