A Court This Cruel & Lovely (Kingdom of Lies, #1)(52)

Tibris made a small noise. Obviously, he’d never heard this story either. Margie sighed, and she turned toward me.

“During this time, Regner’s son Crotopos died. Died from an injury that no healer in his kingdom could fix. Any fae visitors had already fled the human kingdom, their seers warning them of the king’s evil heart. The hybrids were already wary of both fae and humans—and had closed their borders decades before. And so, the prince died—while his wife was pregnant with their unborn child—and King Regner knew that if his son had been fae or hybrid, he would have lived.”

I couldn’t imagine what it had been like for Regner to watch his son die, knowing he could have been saved. Knowing the wound would have healed if he were anything but human.

It must have been torture.

“It was enough to drive the king to madness,” Margie said, nodding at whatever she saw on my face. “And yet Regner wasn’t mad when he ordered his people to invade the fae lands. He was sane when he ordered the slaughter of a peaceful group of fae nymphs in the forest close to his border. He was sane when he planned how he would make the fae king pay. And he was sane when he turned his attention to the hybrids, because they had something he wanted.”

No matter what had happened to his son, it didn’t excuse Regner from what he’d done to the hybrids. I wanted to weep for my people. To rage. I wanted vengeance.

Tibris reached out and peeled my hand off the side of the table. I’d been clenching it, white-knuckled, as Margie told her story. “What did the hybrids have that Regner wanted?”

She sighed. “The narminoi couldn’t tell me. It was only after several visits that I put this much together.”

“Why do people believe Sabium’s lies and those of his line? How have they gotten away with it for so long?”

Margie shrugged, but her expression was bleak. “How do you control a population? You keep the people poor and uneducated. Tell them the same lie for centuries, and tie that lie to religion. Those people will believe you even when the truth is dancing naked in front of them. Because to believe otherwise would mean their entire world has always been a lie. And that realization is too difficult for most people to take.”

I could understand that. Sometimes—even if only for a few seconds—I wished I could turn back time and never know just how Sabium deceived us.

Vicer had already finished his plate, and he leaned back in his seat.

“You’ve seen the people here,” he said. “Seen how much magic they have. Most villagers like us will never visit the city. They’ll live their whole lives firmly believing that the gods only gave them back a tiny sliver of magic. And those who do visit? They’re told the gods gave the city people back more magic for a reason. The people here are simply more worthy.”

If I’d thought I was bitter, it was nothing compared to Vicer’s acerbic tone. And I could understand why. I’d only been here for a few hours. What must it be like for people like Vicer? I didn’t know what kind of power he had, only that it was the kind considered useful. Hundreds, maybe thousands, of villagers had been brought here to be of use to the crown, and I couldn’t imagine what it must be like to continually see just how well people in the city lived. The wealth and power here would be inconceivable to those who had never left our village. If Vicer had tried to tell them about the horseless carriages, most would have laughed.

I took a deep breath. “If hybrids are so powerful, how does the king kill us so easily?”

Vicer leveled me with his hard stare. “It takes three things for magic to grow. Use, time, and training. Raw power is one thing, but hybrids must learn to wield that power.”

A dull fury made my hands shake. We never had a chance to grow our power because wielding it was a death sentence. The king’s great-great-grandfather had ravaged our kingdom. And now Sabium continued the slaughter to cover his crimes.

Vicer’s eyes met mine. “I know you still have your power.”

He hadn’t changed. He still enjoyed keeping people off-balance. I just nodded. “Tibris told me you knew.”

“And yet, even trusting us as he does, your brother refused to ever tell us what power you had. I must admit I’m curious.”

I forced a smile. “Maybe I’ll tell you. But…I need to know if you can help me.”

“You want to get on a ship.”

“No. Well, yes. But not yet. Asinia is a hybrid too. And she was taken.”

Vicer’s expression turned mournful. And that was true grief in his eyes. He’d known Asinia even longer than I had. “I’m sorry to hear that. If she’s been scooped up by the king’s guards, she’ll be in his dungeon.”

I forced my voice to stay steady, even as desperation clawed at me. “I’m getting her out.” And I was counting on Vicer and whatever connections he had to help make that happen.

“We’re getting her out,” my brother said mildly.

“And how do you think you’ll do that?” Vicer’s words dripped with sarcasm.

“My power allows me to stop time for a few moments.”

Margie dropped her cup, staring at me. Then she startled, seeming to come back to herself, and her face reddened. “I’m sorry.” She stepped away to find a cloth, and Vicer studied me.

“You can stop time?”