“What?” Pretha asks, her eyes hard. She folds her arms. “We’ve waited so long to get back here, and now you’re just going to tuck tail and run?”
He sways on his feet and clutches the windowsill. His wolves, Dara and Luna, nudge his hands and whimper softly.
“Sebastian has the crown now,” Jalek says, his dark green eyes sharp. “Finn’s right. It’s only a matter of time.”
“So we’re just giving up?” Pretha asks.
Finn’s eyes flutter closed. Beads of sweat line his forehead. “The curse has been broken. And now Prince Ronan’s on his way here to claim this throne. Once he does, we don’t stand a chance against his power.”
“If he’s on his way, then we’ll send our people out to greet him,” Pretha snaps.
“You think he’s foolish enough to come in the front door?” Jalek asks. “He’ll have his goblin bring him right to the throne room—perhaps right onto the throne.”
“Then we will wait on the dais with swords ready,” she says, and the sadness and desperation in her eyes tears me in two. Before now, I hadn’t realized just how much I missed these people—hadn’t let myself think about it.
“What part of he has the crown don’t you understand?” Finn rubs his temples. “I’m too tired to have this argument.”
Pretha shakes her head. “You’re not tired. You’re ill. You need rest—rest in your own bed, in your own home.”
Finn turns his back to the windows and tilts his face up, leaning his head back against the glass.
Pretha’s right. He does look ill. There’s a worrisome pallor to his light brown skin and an uncharacteristic weakness in his stance. “Any minute now, this throne room will be filled with Sebastian’s men and their goblins,” he says. “They will come quickly, and they will be armed and prepared to kill. It was one thing to stand our ground when we thought the Cursed Horde would come out from hiding to have our backs, but without those forces, staying is suicide.”
“They’ll be here soon,” Pretha says. “General Hargova wouldn’t forsake you.”
Finn shakes his head. “Too late is still too late—whether it’s a minute or a century. We go.”
“What about your court?” Pretha asks.
“We will do our best without the throne,” Finn says.
The pain in his eyes is a punch to the chest. Finn and his people have probably been at the Court of the Moon since the day I killed Mordeus. Without the crown, Finn’s rule would’ve been no more legitimate than the false king’s. As long as I wore the crown, no one else could lay claim to the throne, but now Sebastian has the crown because of me, which means that Finn will never sit on the Throne of Shadows.
Somehow, despite everything he did to deceive me, I still believe Finn would make a good king.
“Pretha, the battle has been lost, but we will not lose the war.”
Tears stream down Pretha’s face, and my heart twists for the wretched grief I see there. She lost her husband—Finn’s brother—to this fight, and now, because of me, it was all for nothing.
“We haven’t lost forever,” Finn says, forcing himself to straighten. “Just for now.”
“It’s too much.” She hangs her head.
“Finn.” Kane pushes into the throne room and takes a spot at Pretha’s side. Once, his red-on-black eyes terrified me, but then I got to know him and the rest of Finn’s merry band of misfits. His people became my friends. Or at least I thought they were friends. It turns out they had their own agenda. Just like Sebastian.
“We’re leaving,” Finn tells Kane. “I was just telling Pretha.”
Kane shakes his head. “We might not need to. There’s been a disturbance at the Golden Palace.”
Finn arches a brow, waiting.
“Abriella,” Pretha says, smiling. “Please tell me she put that iron blade into Sebastian’s heart where it belongs.”
Kane winks at her, as if she’s just said something suggestive. “Unfortunately, not that, but I like the way you think.”
“The news?” Finn asks.
“The princess woke and didn’t take too kindly to her dear prince’s manipulations.”
They’re still calling me princess, even now. Though I supposed I proved them right when I chose to bond with Sebastian, despite their warnings. I’m a fool.
“What did she do?” Finn asks.