Teller would make a fine Warden someday. He had every quality a leader should—a bright intellect, a calm temper, and a compassionate spirit—and I trusted him without reserve. But he was young, and his eyes had not yet taken on the weary shadow of someone who has seen what evil the world contains. I would protect him from that for as long as I could.
And then there was Henri. I had asked him to be my King Consort. I wasn’t sure what authority that carried, but at the very least, it should mean I trusted him enough to rule in my absence… shouldn’t it?
I shoved away the unease nipping at my heels. “Who is Warden of the Shadows?”
“Uncle Garath,” Lily answered.
Aemonn’s father. The pompous, sneering jerk who had looked at me as if my half-breed blood tainted the Crown itself. He had the power to speak for the Crown—to speak for me?
“I thought the Regent had the authority of the Crown, not the Wardens,” I said.
She shook her head. “Father can only step in as Regent when the Crown is incapacitated or in the period before a new Crown is coronated. Otherwise, the Regent has no authority at all.”
No wonder Remis had been happy to throw his son to the wolves to win me over. He’d had a taste of power these past months during the King’s illness, and I very much doubted he wanted to give it back.
Teller cocked his head at me. “Diem, what happened after we left last night?”
Lily clapped her hands together and grinned, bouncing on her toes. “Oh yes! Did you use your magic? What kind do you have? Is it both light and shadow, like Luther?”
My throat went dry.
I’d spent all day sweeping the emotions of last night into the dark, dusty corners of my head, brushing the shattered bits of my grief into neat little heaps to be dealt with some other day. But Teller’s question was like a door left ajar on a windy day. The sudden breeze of it rushed in and stirred all my careful work into a suffocating cloud.
I felt the emptiness return to my eyes, the hollow weight tug on my heart. I wanted to be strong for Teller, but it was all so much, and I was still so tired.
“Do you have magic?” he asked, his voice softer. Nervous.
My chin dipped slightly. “It seems I do.”
Lily was jumping, squealing, congratulating me, firing off questions. It reminded me of her brother’s unexpected glee at my explosion of power. Even Teller, for a brief moment, seemed elated for me. His eyes widened in wonder, lips curving into an awestruck smile.
And then I saw it. The moment his thoughts aligned with my own, and he realized what this meant for me. For us. For our family.
For our future.
For the first time in my little brother’s life, I saw the light go out in his eyes. If I thought I’d hit my darkest moment before, I was so very wrong.
“Lily?” I rasped. “Would you mind if Teller and I spoke alone?”
Her celebrating paused, and she seemed to become aware of the shift in both of us. “Oh—yes, of course. I’ll just, um, go upstairs for a while.”
She left without another word, though I caught her reach out and squeeze Teller’s hand as she brushed past him. He and I stood in the dim silence for what felt like a lifetime, locked in the dawning of one dreadful realization after another.
“So this is real,” he said. “After the Crown, I knew it was, of course, but… I thought, maybe…”
“Me too.” I swallowed. “Until last night, I didn’t…” I couldn’t finish. I didn’t have to—we both understood.
He took a slow step forward, then another, then he rushed to me and threw his arms around my neck.
I felt his tears, warm and wet, against my cheek, or maybe they were my own. And I felt the tremors of his fear, the dying light of his hope.
Or maybe it was my own.
We held each other for a long time, weeping and processing, our hearts breaking in unison in the cavernous darkness. Under the weight of the exhaustion that had taken up permanent residence in my soul, all my walls splintered and shattered into a fine powder.
“I’m scared,” I whispered, half hoping the words wouldn’t reach his ears. “I don’t think I can do this.”
“If anyone can, it’s you,” he said roughly. “You’ve always been able to do anything, no matter how frightening.”
“This isn’t climbing a big tree or exploring some new cave, Tel. I’m twenty years old. I’ve barely lived. I have no business being Queen.”
He pulled back and clamped his hands on my shoulders. His own eyes were wet and rimmed with red, but his voice was steady. “If Lumnos chose you, there must be a reason. There’s something she sees in you, something you’re meant to do. You have to trust her.”
“Since when do we trust a Kindred?”
He grinned and squeezed my arms. “Since she had the good sense to pick a Bellator.”
I gave a weak laugh between sniffles, feeling the crushing dread ease the tiniest bit. “I’m not so special, Teller. The Crown just goes to whoever has the strongest magic.”
“And who gets the strongest magic? They’ve spent centuries trying to breed the most powerful offspring, and it never worked the way they wanted it to. Look at Luther and Lily—they’re siblings, but he’s powerful and she isn’t. Maybe that’s not a coincidence. Maybe there’s a reason you and Luther got so much more magic than anyone else.”
I pulled away and dropped my face in my hands, overwhelmed by the glowing burden on my head. I’d done a fine enough job of putting on a grand display of swagger to the Descended, but alone with Teller, I felt like a child playing dress up in comically oversized clothing.
He pulled at my wrists. “How can I help?”
“No. I don’t want you mixed up in this world with these people. They’re dangerous.”
“Mother said the same thing to you, and look how well that turned out. Don’t give me that look, you know I’m right. Besides, I’m already in this world, and I have been for a lot longer than you. You’re the one playing catch-up.”
We exchanged the kind of smirk and glare that only a too-clever little brother and an exasperated older sister could fully appreciate.
“Let me help you,” he insisted.
I blew out a shaky breath and tried to summon confidence back into my bones. “I’m meeting with the heads of the Twenty Houses after the ball. Can you gather some information about them? Especially how they feel about mortals and half-mortals.”
A shadow of resentment drifted over his face. “That’s easy enough. Before you, the kids at school would remind me daily how their families felt about mortals like me.”
I froze. “What do you mean ‘before me’？”
“They know I’m the Queen’s brother now.” He saw my look of horror and shrugged with a wry smile. “It was obvious once every Corbois suddenly began treating me like their closest friend.”
I swore under my breath. “Do you think the news has reached Father?”
His smile dropped away. “Not yet. But you need to tell him. If he finds out from anyone else…”
“I know.” A lump rose in my throat. “Luther asked me to wait until after the ball. Can you keep Father away from town until then?”