I sank back against the cushions and closed my eyes, listening to Luther’s deep voice recite the beautiful, lilting verses. Rapheol’s devotion to his husband was clear in every line, and we all laughed and blushed at his catalogue of the King’s best features at court, on the battlefield, and in the bedroom.
“I didn’t even know the King was married,” I admitted. “When did Rapheol die?”
Eleanor leaned forward until her face was close to mine. “Less than a month after Ulther’s coronation. He was poisoned by a rival House. It’s a heartbreaking story.”
“Someone poisoned the King’s husband?”
She nodded. “Just as he received the Crown, Ulther was cheated in a trade agreement. He wanted to prove his strength before his Challenging, so he had their entire House shut down. He seized their property and ordered that they all leave Lumnos, join another House, or become one of the Unhoused Descended that live on the outskirts of the realm.”
“All that over a bad business deal?”
“It gets worse.” She sighed sadly. “An elder from that House decided she had nothing left to lose, so she infected Rapheol with a rare poison and demanded Ulther reinstate her House in exchange for an antidote. She even insisted on a bonded bargain that he wouldn’t punish her or her House for it later.”
“And Ulther wouldn’t do it?”
“Oh, he did—but she gave him an antidote, not the antidote. She worded the bargain cleverly, and there was nothing he could do. Rapheol died, and Ulther couldn’t seek revenge without losing his magic.”
“That’s terrible,” I gasped. “I can’t believe she got away with it.”
“She didn’t. That’s where it gets worse. Her bargain was clever, but not clever enough, because it only bound Ulther and not the rest of House Corbois. The King couldn’t take revenge—but his brothers could.”
My eyebrows flew up. “What did they do?”
She chewed on her lip and glanced nervously at her uncles. “They took out the entire House.”
I spun around to face her. “Took out? As in…？”
“As in dead. Every last one. The whole family was wiped out overnight.”
“Even… even the children? The innocents?”
Her only answer was a sad, pained grimace.
I sank back into my seat, staring at Remis and Garath as my pulse pounded in my ears.
“Ulther never got over it,” she went on. “He only appointed his brothers and their children as his advisors, and he banned anyone who wasn’t a Corbois from living or working in the palace. He refused to trust anyone from the other Houses ever again.”
My heart twisted and tore. “Was Luther part of it—the killing?” I swallowed, not really wanting to know the answer, but needing to.
“Oh no,” she said quickly. “Luther wasn’t even born.”
My shoulders sagged with relief.
Taran frowned at me. “You really believe Luther would take part in something like that?” His expression looked hurt, almost betrayed, as if I had accused him.
“I barely know him,” I mumbled, feeling my cheeks flush. “I don’t know what he’s capable of.”
Taran shook his head and looked away.
Guilt started to gnaw away at me. “The King never remarried?” I asked.
“He was mated,” Eleanor said matter-of-factly.
“But he never fell in love with anyone else?”
“He was mated,” she said again, giving me a strange look.
“Mortals don’t have mates,” Taran said to Eleanor. “She doesn’t know what that means.”
Her eyes widened, her expression bemused. “You really don’t know our culture, do you?”
I shrugged. “Only what I learned in the mortal schools.”
“Which was what?” Taran asked. “That Descended are all evil monsters who are out to get them?”
“Quite the opposite,” I sniped. “We’re taught you’re all perfect, and death to anyone who says otherwise.” I could handle Taran’s ribbing, but the haughty way the Descended spoke about mortals never failed to set my temper alight. “The Crown decides what information mortals are allowed to know. And if we try to learn more than we’re supposed to, we wind up on the end of a Descended blade.” I gestured to Remis and Garath. “So you can take up your thoughts on my inadequate education with those two and their Keeper of the Laws.”
All traces of Taran’s judgment disappeared. “Sorry,” he said quietly. “I didn’t realize.”
I flexed my jaw and looked back at Eleanor. “Mates—could you explain it to me?”
She nodded. “For us, marriage is just a ceremony to exchange rings and vows. You can get married for any reason—politics, alliances, money—and you can remarry as often as you like. But a mate…” Her eyes shone with reverence. “A mate is so much more. A mating bond can only be made by love—true love.”
I gave her a skeptical look. “True love?”
She smiled dreamily, oblivious to my cynicism. “Any two Descended can attempt the mating ritual, but the bonding magic will only work if your love is genuine and unconditional, and if you freely commit to stand by your mate forever, in life and in death. Once you’re mated, your heart is bound to your mate for eternity. You can never love anyone else.”
“Never? Even if they die?”
“Never. It’s a legacy of the Kindred’s choice to give up their immortality for their mortal lovers.”
“Being mated isn’t just a relationship,” Taran said, his expression equally aglow. “It changes you physically. Your bodies become two halves of a whole. If you’re away from your mate for too long, you get ill and your magic weakens. They say you can even die from it.”
“I heard they can sense each other’s emotions,” Eleanor added. “And it doesn’t end at death. Whichever mate dies first, they stay in limbo until the other joins them. Their worthiness is judged together, like a single soul.”
Taran sighed happily. “It’s just so romantic.”
“You two aren’t really selling me on this mating thing,” I joked. They both looked at me like I had sprouted a second head. “It sounds like giving up a lot of yourself. And it’s very… permanent. Why would anyone choose that over marriage?”
“Because they’re your mate,” Eleanor said, drawing the word out as if that should say it all. “To be connected so deeply to the one you love, even beyond death… it’s the greatest joy anyone can experience.”
Taran leaned over with a savage grin. “And they say sex with your mate is mind-blowing.”
Eleanor swatted at him and laughed, though she threw me a tawdry grin that said she agreed.
“The mating bond is sacred,” he added. “It’s respected by all Descended, no matter the realm. Even if one mate is imprisoned, the other is permitted access to them at all times. To separate mates is an insult to the Kindred themselves.”
I sat back and frowned, trying to imagine being bound in such an intimate and irreversible way—to give away half of my very soul to another and trust them to protect it and remain loyal to it always. My mind lingered on Henri and the marriage proposal I had nearly rejected, and a horrible pit settled in my stomach.