“Luther, what is this?” I asked again, softer.
“My penitence.”
Our eyes met, and the pain in them sliced through me as sharp as any blade.
“You accused me of executing the half-mortal children as the Keeper of the Laws, and I denied it.”
“You smuggled them out,” I breathed. “All these children… you didn’t kill them—you got them out of Lumnos.”
He nodded silently, his shoulders falling as if letting out a breath he’d been holding for many, many years.
“And the ones in the back, with the red mark?”
His eyes dragged to the bust of Lumnos. “The ones I failed,” he said, the depth of his regret echoing in each awful word.
I flipped through the pages, unable to tear my attention from the miniature sketches. He had found a way to capture it somehow—their grief at the rejection by their parents, their King, and their homeland.
It could have been me. It would have been me, had my mother not hidden me among the mortals. Angry as I was over her secrets, there was no denying they’d kept me alive.
“This book is my death warrant,” Luther said quietly. “It’s evidence of treason a hundred times over. Even if you would forgive it as Queen, others would ensure I paid the price.”
“Never,” I blurted out, clutching the book protectively to my chest. “I would never reveal this, not to anyone. Ever.”
“I know. I trust you.”
I searched his face, his ever dispassionate features, trying to unearth some explanation for this man who continually defied my judgments.
“Luther, why show this to me now? What does this have to do with Henri?”
He worked his jaw, seeming reluctant to continue. “If your heart is set on this union, I will support you. But I would not be serving you with honor if I did not speak bluntly. The Descended will not accept a mortal King, Your Majesty. Not even as a Consort.”
I bristled. “I’m not asking their permission.”
His features turned sharp as glass. “Let me be clearer. If you present him as your betrothed at the Ascension Ball, Henri will not survive to see the Rite of Coronation. The Houses will stop at nothing to prevent a mortal taking the throne. They have killed Crowns’ mates for far less.”
My heart stilled, my mouth tasting of ash.
He walked closer and placed his hand on the book where it lay in my palms, his fingertips curling as they grazed my wrists. “I showed you this because I need you to know I do not speak out of prejudice. I would put my life on the line to protect a mortal. I already have—many times.” His voice softened. “But if you take this step, I fear the Emarion Army itself could not protect him. And I do not wish to see one more person in this realm buried because of their bloodline.”
I should have been arguing, screaming that I would not be intimidated by the violence of bigots, vowing to raze the realm to cinders if anyone tried to hurt Henri.
But perhaps somewhere, deep within, I already knew the truth, because all I felt was the unbearable heaviness of a heart grieving a loss that my brain still refused to accept.
“You’re saying I have to let him go,” I said numbly.
“That is not my place.”
“Stop trying to be my advisor, Luther. Be my friend.” I looked up at him, eyes burning. “Are you saying I should walk away?”
Luther shifted his weight. “I’m saying…” He paused. Frowned. “If you love him…”
He looked up and shook his head, as if he couldn’t believe his own words.
“Wait until you’re coronated,” he said finally. “Get through the Challenging, take the full authority of the Crown, then…” He let out a heavy, loaded sigh. “Then we’ll plan. If he is what you want, I’ll help you find a way.”
I wondered if he would make the same offer if he knew Henri had sworn to kill him. If he knew I had sworn to kill him, too.
Something told me he would.
“I never imagined you to be such a romantic,” I said, offering up a weak smile that he returned, though it was achingly glum on both sides.
“There’s much you don’t yet know about me, Your Majesty.”
I’m beginning to see that, I mused to myself.
He looked over my shoulder to the marble bust that glowed in the flickering candlelight. “The Blessed Mother sacrificed her life to be with the man she loved. I fear she might strike me dead if I told you to walk away.”
He took a deep breath, then straightened and clasped his hands at his back.
“I was… mistaken. About the kiss.” He took a step away to put distance between us. “You were right. I kissed you, and you pushed me away. I owe you an apology.”
Now who’s lying? I thought.
His brows carved deep. “I won’t let it happen ag—”
A gasp burst from my lips. “Is this the secret my mother knew—the one she was using against you?”
“Part of it,” he admitted.
“But she never would have revealed this. She wouldn’t put these children in danger.”
“I know. She helped me get them out of Lumnos.”
My brows flew up. “My mother helped you with this?”
“There were times when I couldn’t get away for long enough, or when the children were too young or too injured to travel alone. She would escort them to my contacts in the realms where half-mortals are not so persecuted.”
So many times, my mother had left town on a moment’s notice, sometimes disappearing for days with barely a note. It had been such a common occurrence that I hadn’t questioned it—until the day she vanished for good.
“Did my father know?”
“Doubtful. Beyond a few others who helped us, we agreed to tell no one, not even our families.”
Panic speared through me. “Is this why she disappeared? If she was caught delivering a child—”
“No,” he said quickly, his tone emphatic. “She left for her own reasons, not mine.”
I wasn’t sure whether to be relieved or disappointed.
“Why would my mother threaten to expose you if she was helping you?” I asked, frowning.
“Your mother had a habit of making grand threats she had no intention of following through on.” A spark of amusement gleamed in his eyes. “Just like her daughter.”
I shot him a scowl, though I couldn’t deny it—bravado and threats were my first resort when backed into a corner, and no one had seen more evidence of that than Luther. “If you knew she wouldn’t betray you, why help her? Why not call her bluff?”
“Because the work she and I did together was more important. Your mother and I did not always agree, nor did we often get along. But I respected her.” He took a step closer and leaned his face to mine with an earnest stare. “And I would never have hurt her.”
My mind whirled with all he’d just revealed. The highs and lows of my relationship with this puzzling man had become an exhausting sport. Luther was supposed to be the target of my plans. He, more than anyone, was supposed to fear my reign—and yet he had inexplicably, inconceivably, become my confidant. Even now, I wasn’t sure whether I wanted to strike him dead or throw my arms around his neck and thank him.