“Come on.” He tugs me toward the palace and I follow. I know better than to linger with Sluagh about.
* * *
Sebastian tells the servants he’ll show me around while they prepare our dinner.
“King Mordeus doesn’t belong on the Throne of Shadows,” Sebastian says when we’re alone, picking up where we left off outside. “And all of Faerie suffers for it. But he will do anything to wear the crown so the throne will accept him.”
He takes my hand and leads me down a brightly lit staircase. As he pushes through a heavy door, I realize he’s brought me to some sort of armory. My eyes go wide as I take in all the weapons—the variety of knives and swords, the rows of armor, and the racks of wooden bows.
He goes straight to the far wall and selects a shining black dagger before turning back to me. “This is made of adamant and iron.” He offers it to me. “It was sharpened with diamond blades by the queen’s own blacksmith, and its magic will leave traces of iron behind in anyone you use it on.”
I take it. It’s heavy but not clumsily so. When I wrap my fingers around the hilt, a strange jolt of power rocks through me. It feels like it was made for my palm.
“Only this can kill the king,” Sebastian says. “Keep it on you at all times.”
My eyes flick up to meet his. He doesn’t know I’ve been working for the king, so why would he think I need a dagger than can kill him?
“Riaan told me that you two talked last night,” he says softly. “He said you admitted to having secrets. Secrets that you’re forced to keep or risk losing your sister.” He pulls a scabbard from a drawer and unbuckles the small belt attached to it. “Maybe the same secrets that made you give me a fake and keep the Mirror of Discovery for yourself.”
I gasp. “You knew?”
“Yes. And I waited for you to explain—to trust me—but now I understand that you can’t.”
“I . . .” He knew. “I can’t believe you didn’t say anything.”
“I trust you, Brie. Whether or not you trust me in return.”
Heart heavy, I watch as he kneels before me, lifting the hem of my skirt from the ground. His fingers brush my skin as he wraps the scabbard around my calf and buckles it in place. When he turns a palm up for the dagger, I gently hand it to him by the hilt. “Keep this on you at all times for protection. Use your magic to hide it if you can.”
“I . . .” How much does he know about my magic? About my secrets? “I can. I’ve gotten better.”
He slides it into place, and there’s something comforting about the hug of the belt, the weight of the blade at my calf. When he stands, his face is solemn. “This blade will also work against Finn.”
I swallow hard. Maybe that’s why he gave this to me after all—not so much because he thinks I’ll need it against Mordeus but because he hopes I’ll use it against Finn. “You said you don’t want Mordeus on the Throne of Shadows, but who would you have take his place if not Finn?”
He shakes his head. “Faerie has been divided too long, and it’s time the halves unite under one ruler.”
I bite my bottom lip. I don’t want to argue about Finn or who should or shouldn’t be on the Throne of Shadows. All I care about is saving my sister.
But that’s not true anymore. Maybe it hasn’t been true for a while.
I care about the realm I once sneered at and the creatures that reside here, and now I’m torn between warring kingdoms when I never wanted to feel allegiance to either.
“Would you like me to show you the rest of the palace?” Sebastian asks.
I nod, but through his whole tour I’m thinking about the adamant blade strapped to my leg and Sebastian’s hushed words, This blade will also work against Finn.
I’m so distracted that I’m unprepared when he leads me into the library on the top floor of the palace.
“This is the jewel of Serenity Palace,” he says just inside the doors. “It’s best seen when the sun is shining through the skylights, so I’ll bring you back tomorrow.”
But I like it as it is now, with the silvery moonlight dancing off the glass and barely illuminating the center of the room. I could explore the stacks of books in the darkness. I imagine it would feel like going to the library with my mother when I was a child—that feeling of safety and endless possibility.
I stroll into the room, looking around and letting my gaze skip over the pedestal at the center of the space. I don’t want to seem too interested in it, but Sebastian seems to sense it anyway.