Molkan’s rough and milder tone returned as he went on. “His sister’s death was my fault, and that of his father too, who’d taken his own life just hours after learning his daughter’s fate—as he’d had even less to live for.” He swore under his breath. “He blamed me, yet Hammond had wanted to leave this world for years. Florian knew that, but they’d once been as close as any father and son could be, so I suppose he could not bear it. Hammond would take Florian everywhere with him. Trained him. Taught him. Made him. Skies, some say he even read to him when Florian was old enough to read on his own.”
That fissure in my heart panged. “Before his mother died?”
“Right. Crystal’s death began the slow erosion of the Hellebore family. A unit that was once the source of envy across the land for the seemingly perfect life Hammond and Crystal had made for themselves.” He hesitated before saying, “Many talk of Lilitha with fascination. We faeries love nothing more than a bloody tragedy. But more quietly, for fear of Florian’s icy wrath, Lilitha is spoken of as the creature who cursed her family—sent by the beast of Nowhere himself.”
I frowned down at the grass, wiping my sweaty palms over my teal-green skirts. Then I carefully asked, “And what do you think?”
As though shocked I’d asked, his thick brows rose and he gave me a small smile. “I think none of us were ready for Lilitha, but should I ever meet her again”—determination gritted his voice as he looked toward the sky—“I will be.”
The terrace neared, and I thought our conversation might be done for the day.
Then the king said, “Florian vowed to take everything from me. When you were born, your mother’s dying wish was for you to have no part in his revenge. After she was gone, I was lost to grief, to the realization I’d lost not only my mate but also my wife, so I told my most trusted to decide what to do with you. Admittedly, I hadn’t cared. I spent days, months—years, really—wondering if that was how Hammond had felt, but I refused to leave my people. I refused to give in to the longing to end it all, for I was the one who’d caused it. I would endure my penance.”
I wasn’t sure what I’d expected when he finally gave voice to dumping me in the middle lands, but such cruel honesty wasn’t it.
“It would be years before I even cared about Florian’s threats, and by the time I did, he’d already started toying with me. It started small. Most of it insignificant enough to arouse mere annoyance. Prized mares were found missing from the stables, our boats overturned along our rivers.” A flick of his hand. “That type of thing. But I should have known…” He shook his head. “He was simply flexing his muscles.”
“Now, he has taken our people, killed and kept them chained to him in surrender. He has burned and butchered factories and greenhouses and fields of staples. Coin, finery, livelihoods—he takes it all. Our ability to trade with the other kingdoms. Even our jewel troves hidden within tunnels beneath our city walls were stolen a decade ago.”
One part puzzled me. “I thought the other kingdoms were not involved.”
“Oleander might claim they want nothing to do with this feud, but all that means is they want nothing to do with me. And Aconite,” he explained, referring to the realm in the far northwest of Folkyn, “even if King Ruben would trade with me, I am not so desperate that I would sell my soul to a Nowhere-bound hellion such as he.”
Evidently, only so much could be gleaned from books and murmurings. I was almost tempted to ask more about King Ruben, but Molkan wasn’t done.
“Florian humiliates me to no end, wearing me so thin that when he finally decides to take this very soil from beneath my feet, I will have no choice but to surrender.” He paused, and I did too, shocked as he turned to level me with a dark look. “I might have robbed him of what little heart he once had, but this has gone on long enough.” A careful lowering of his eyes over my features was followed by a slight smile shaping his full mouth. “With you now in my possession, I have hope we can turn this tide.”
“How?” I asked, a little breathless from all he’d told me.
I couldn’t yet decide how to feel about it, nor understand why I couldn’t. It should have been obvious, especially after all I’d endured, that Florian was a monster who needed to be stopped.
But just as Gane had warned countless times, nothing was ever as it seemed within these lands.
Molkan only winked, then resumed walking. I followed, my steps lighter from just that one wink, as he said, “The heat. Have you already succumbed to it?”
The way he’d ignored my question had left me wondering about his plans, so I was about to blurt the truth until something stopped me. “No,” I said, my cheeks warming. I let them, as it was to be expected. “Not yet.”
Molkan slid his gaze to me, but he just said, “Do make sure you let me know when you start to feel the effects.” Then his pace quickened toward the stairs.
I stayed behind, afraid to ask what he would have done if the heat hadn’t already swept through me like a raging storm. Would he have had one of his servants tend to me? Or perhaps his golden-eyed adviser?
Relief gnawed like a parasite.
Florian had intended to kill me, yet I still couldn’t envision it—giving myself to anyone as wildly and completely as I had him.
I was shown to a dining room for dinner that night, the king’s tragic tale still stopping my every attempt at new thought.
A round table big enough for twelve stood in the center. Candles in varying sizes and citrus scents sat upon the rattan cupboards and slim shelves lining the room. The arched fireplace was empty and dark behind the grand chair likely reserved for the king.
There were two place settings, but the king would not be dining with me.
Avrin entered long after the meals had been delivered.
I’d grown tired of waiting. I’d thought I would be dining with Molkan, who was my father, and so I’d assumed he wouldn’t mind. If I’d known he would not be joining me, I would have served myself the lemon-crusted fish and fruit salad far sooner.
I lowered my cutlery, shock pausing my chewing as the golden-eyed male took a seat before the other place setting. He immediately helped himself to the food while saying dryly, “Thank you for waiting, Princess.”
I scowled and finished chewing, then sipped some water. “I’ve grown accustomed to dining alone.”
“There are two place settings.”
“I do have eyes,” I stupidly said.
He snorted. “Doesn’t seem like they work very well.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“It means…” Done with dumping fruit onto his plate and licking cream from his fingers, Avrin smirked at me. “That you’re maddeningly blind.”
I knew he was referring to Florian. I refrained from taking the bait. Instead, I merely said with a false calm that made me proud, “What’s done is done.”
“If you say so,” he murmured, and reached for the wine. After taking a slurping sip and setting his goblet down, he noted I hadn’t poured any. “So ashamed of your bad decisions you would keep from one of life’s finest delights?”