A Queen Comes to Power: An Heir Comes to Rise Book 2 Read online

  Varlas’s eyebrows knitted together in confusion. He glanced around the forest then down at his drawn sword. “Yes. I suppose we should head back,” he mumbled, still dazed.

  Faythe’s relief drowned her like a flood.

  The king turned and started to walk back. Faythe didn’t immediately follow, struck with too many contrasting emotions to make any move.

  “Keep it together. You’re safe. Now, let’s go.”

  With Reylan’s words in her mind, she felt his hand on her lower back give a gentle nudge forward. It struck her back to consciousness like a bolt of electricity. She looked at him but couldn’t even muster the energy to utter her appreciation. Instead, she urged her feet to press forward, desperate for solitude so she could give in to the darkness that beckoned at the exertion of her ability.

  Chapter 26

  Faythe

  Bursting through the door to her chamber, Faythe didn’t have the energy to cast out Reylan when she felt him follow her in. She wanted to be alone, to rest as her mind and body called for, but the events in the woods with the King of Olmstone rattled in her mind, and she knew the general would demand answers to what happened before he arrived as her savior.

  “You have to leave,” she said before he could ask anything.

  “What is Varlas planning?”

  On her retreat back from the forest, Faythe had started to put together the pieces to help her make sense of the chaotic week. Everyone seemed to have their own agenda, and Reylan was no different. His fixation with her, his unexpected appearances—it was all a ploy to point her in the right direction. All this time, he’d had his own silent suspicions—not about her, but about the King of Olmstone. She hated that it stung to think he was using her all along.

  “You knew Varlas wanted to get me alone, that he would threaten me for information he thought I would get from you. You knew all this time and were playing both sides.” Faythe kept her voice low, but she let her building rage seep into her words.

  Reylan didn’t bother to deny the fact or try to apologize.

  “You used me,” she laughed bitterly. “You’re just as cunning and deceitful as the royals. You wanted me to get inside his head, get whatever knowledge you thought I could gain, with no regard for my life—”

  “That’s not true,” he cut in sharply. Then he straightened, his face sympathetic but not remorseful. “We have long known Varlas is holding a grudge, only I didn’t realize the true extent of what he was willing to do. I need you to tell me, Faythe. Everything you found out.”

  She shook her head in disbelief. “You’re just like them, you know? The position suits you well.”

  His jaw flexed with impatience. “You have to recognize, we are on the same side, you and I.”

  “There is no you and I!” she shouted in exasperation. She wanted to trust him, believe he could be different from the kings, but he was no better than them when it came to manipulating her for his personal gain. She felt the deceit like a twist in her chest, but she pushed it to the side, smoothing the sharp edges of her fury to say, “I can’t help you, Reylan.”

  She wouldn’t be the catalyst for this war. If Rhyenelle knew of the impending danger, they might move to strike first. No—she had to figure out a way to stop it at its source. Perhaps Nik could help dissuade his father from aiding Varlas’s path of vengeance. Olmstone wouldn’t strike out on their own.

  Disappointment and ire flashed in the general’s eyes. She was about to retreat from the threatening change in his demeanor, but before she could move a step, he advanced faster than she could blink. Her back crashed against the wall while Reylan held her firm, pinning her arms to her sides, making movement impossible. She didn’t have the chance to make a sound or attempt to maneuver free because a sharp pull on her mind made her cry out loud. A hollowness settled in, and she immediately knew exactly what he had done.

  He had taken her ability—all of it.

  She couldn’t throw up her mental walls in her state of shock, and she gasped when she felt him invade her mind, swiftly taking control to halt her so she couldn’t move physically or throw him out mentally either. It was a sickening, helpless feeling as she remained paralyzed within herself while Reylan took what he wanted. She was completely at his mercy.

  Less than a minute felt like a lifetime.

  He retreated from her mind all at once, taking a long step back. Faythe gasped, doubling over and spluttering as she tried to process the quick ordeal. She had her physical free will back, but there was still something missing. He had yet to return her ability.

  Faythe snapped her head up, eyes livid. She would have shattered through his mental walls no matter what it took if he’d given it back. But she was useless against him without it, and he could very easily stop her in a million possible ways before she tried to attack. Her hands trembled in unhinged fury at the violation.

  “How dare you!” She seethed, her voice as sharp as a knife’s edge.

  Reylan didn’t flinch at her tone, which only enraged her further. “I only saw what I had to—nothing else,” he said calmly, as if he hadn’t infringed upon her thoughts and memories, crossing the one line there was no coming back from.

  “You’re as wicked as the rest of them, General Reylan.”

  “Faythe—”

  “The king will kill you for this, though I’d very much like to do the honors myself.”

  “You wouldn’t get two steps to the door before I stopped you.” He meant by means of taking her life. Her hands twitched in a wrath with no end as she realized he was right. Without her ability, she was exactly the weak, feeble, useless human she appeared to be.

  “You got what you wanted. Go ahead,” she challenged.

  Reylan’s eyes twitched in conflict, and it was enough to fill her with confidence that for whatever reason, he wouldn’t kill her.

  Without warning, a crushing weight fell back on her mind. It completed her as much as it crushed her, and she braced a hand against the wall while she adjusted to the return of her ability. She was incapacitated long enough that Reylan could have certainly made a swift exit before she struck his mind.

  “I’m not your enemy,” he said quickly, anticipating her intent.

  Faythe hesitated. A destructive hurricane wrecked her thoughts. The reckless, unhinged part of her wanted to screw the damned consequences and retaliate. But she felt the chaos calm as she took a breath that allowed her to deliberate and see reason. Harming Reylan would only satisfy her selfish desire for petty revenge, and it seemed inconsequential in the face of all this. His methods were wholly wrong, but his intentions were for the good of his kingdom. Reylan was many things, but he was not self-serving.

  Her anger diffused, leaving only exhaustion and sadness. “You don’t even deserve the energy it would take to be considered my enemy. You are nothing to me,” she said coldly. “I hope you’re praised for your deception, turning the suspicion from yourself to get what you want. Your king will be proud.”

  “It wasn’t my intention to deceive you, Faythe. This is bigger than us and much worse than I thought.”

  “You’re right. It is bigger than us. Knowledge is power, General. I only hope you know what to do with it.” She knew the condescending remark should have earned her a swift death, but though she saw his eyes flash, he didn’t threaten her. “Leave High Farrow. Tonight. And don’t come back. Orlon will be expecting information from me. I won’t hesitate to spill everything about you if I see you again.”

  Reylan looked as if he wanted to argue but decided against it as he turned to take his leave. Just before he reached the door, he turned back to her. “Many more innocents could have died without your help,” he offered quietly. It wasn’t to justify his actions, but rather to console her worry about the possibility of an impending war.

  “It’s not enough,” she muttered.

  His look was grave. He said nothing more. The click of the door behind him echoed in her ears and was felt in the pit of her stomach.r />
  She wanted to despise him for what he’d done. But instead, all she felt was hollow.

  Chapter 27

  Faythe

  Faythe stood on the balcony in her rooms staring at the sun-kissed sky that rained glittering rays over the city below, but she didn’t bask in its beauty. Instead, her mind was elsewhere. She looked beyond the stone buildings as if she could see the duo of lunar night riding off in the distance, yet she knew the general would be long outside of Farrowhold by now. She didn’t know why she cared. Perhaps it was the building anticipation that in a few short weeks, Reylan would tell his king of the impending threat, and then Rhyenelle would respond… Faythe felt heavy with dread at the thought.

  Behind her, she heard footsteps and knew Nik was being deliberately loud to alert her to his presence before he came outside to join her. She didn’t speak or turn to face him.

  “He said there was an urgent message from Agalhor and he needed to return immediately,” Nik said. She didn’t know how the prince knew who was on her mind, but she didn’t bother trying to deny it. “I didn’t believe him for a second.”

  Faythe closed her eyes for a moment, taking a deep breath. She had spent the whole night awake, pondering what to do with the information on her end while Reylan rode off to make counterplans within his own kingdom. She knew what she had to do.

  Turning to face the crown prince, the only person whose powers of persuasion could possibly alter the king’s movements, she said, “There’s something I need to tell you.”

  Faythe told him everything, starting from how Reylan knew about her from day one, and ending with what she knew about the King of Olmstone. At the mention of his father’s involvement, Nik’s face was unreadable. Faythe felt guilty for dropping the burden of knowledge on the prince, but he deserved to know and was perhaps their only chance at getting the king to see sense.

  “It can’t be,” were the first words he spoke in response. “What reason would my father have to help Olmstone? We have no quarrel with Rhyenelle.”

  Faythe didn’t want to add insult to injury, so she refrained from voicing her own hatred toward the fae ruler of their kingdom. “They have an agreement. High Farrow aids Olmstone, and in return, Varlas will answer to Orlon. No matter the ask, no matter the reason. He gains power.”

  Nik shook his head. “I don’t understand. Power…it has never been his goal. Never. Loyalty and courage have always been our values. To abandon the alliance now…” His hands clenched into fists, and she could tell he was desperate to hit something. Not wanting to be in the way, she shifted a step. Nik calmed in response, realizing his rising temper.

  Faythe sighed at his broken look and approached him, taking his hand. “You can help to stop this.”

  The prince held a look of defeat. “I don’t know if I can,” he admitted.

  “Together,” she promised.

  His emerald eyes met hers, and she longed to take the pain from them. The betrayal he felt from his own father. He forced a smile, though he likely knew there was even less she could do to stop the events than he.

  “Varlas and my father are meeting as we speak, privately.”

  It should have made her tremble to think of the two kings possibly detailing plans of an attack, but at the spark of an idea, a cunning smile tugged at Faythe’s lips instead. Nik’s brow furrowed at her response to the news.

  She grinned wider. “Fancy a bit of eavesdropping?”

  The prince and the spymaster were as silent as mice creeping down the dark secret passageway in the library. It solidified Faythe’s assumptions it was long-forgotten when Nik was equally awed at the discovery of the hidden labyrinth. When they made it to the fork in the path, Nik paused to examine the hallway she had yet to venture down.

  Faythe was taking steps toward the other when Nik snapped his attention back the way they came. Her heart battered her chest at his sudden alarm, and she too spun around to follow his gaze but couldn’t hear what his fae senses picked up. She was about to toss the torch she held and duck into hiding, but Nik raised a hand, and she paused. He visibly relaxed then huffed. Faythe kept her sharp edge of caution, still unaware of what he had heard.

  Her rigidness loosened off in relief as soon as a familiar face emerged into the blue light of her torch. She could only stare wide-eyed at Tauria.

  “How did you follow us?” Faythe asked.

  The ward shrugged. “I picked up on your scents in the library, which is a strange place for Nik to be at the best of times.” Her eyes only flashed to the prince for a second, and as they did, Faythe noticed Nik barely spared her a glance back, averting his attention without acknowledging the remark. It was unlike him. While they had yet to say a word to each other directly, the tension between them made Faythe shift awkwardly in the silence. It didn’t feel right to pry about the friction.

  She cleared her throat, saying to Tauria, “I suppose I should fill you in.”

  They continued the walk through the eerie darkness, Nik trailing a distance behind, and Faythe briefed the ward on everything she relayed to the prince earlier that morning. When they approached the last hallway that held the vent to the council chamber, they all halted before it. Nik drifted past them both to look first. As faint light illuminated his features from the room below, she saw his face plastered with shock. When he looked at her again, her mind caught the projection of his thoughts.

  “How did you find this place?”

  Faythe trembled to think the kings really could hear them if they dared to speak out loud. She was one too-loud footstep away from being discovered by everyone below when she came alone, and she’d clearly underestimated their fae senses. At the look of horror on Nik’s face, she knew it was certainly possible. Her only answer was a weak shrug. She didn’t have it in her to explain in that moment.

  “Do you think he knows?” Varlas spoke below.

  Faythe huddled close to Nik to catch a glimpse of the scene, their faces mere inches apart. Tauria crammed in just as close on her other side, and the three of them tuned in to the private meeting between kings.

  “I will admit, when he mentioned his need to suddenly depart last night, I did have my suspicions,” Orlon replied.

  Faythe’s heart was erratic as she watched the two rulers ponder over Reylan.

  “Your spymaster has not revealed anything?”

  At her mention, Faythe recoiled a fraction. Even though she had discovered everything about their plans, about Varlas, it still shocked her that all this time she had been played a fool. It made her question herself, her ability, if it was so easy for him to hide his true nature the few times she’d glimpsed into his thoughts. She was begrudgingly grateful to Reylan for his obscure warnings, which had kept her on the edge of caution around Varlas, easing the blow when he finally revealed himself to her in the woods.

  “Not yet. Though without Agalhor, we may not get the information we need.”

  “The general is a close second.”

  The King of High Farrow sat lazily at the head of the table. Varlas, on the other hand, was pacing to his side, looking scarily aggravated. His usual cheerful smile was wiped away by harsh lines that aged his face, turning his exterior cold and ruthless. She was a fool for not seeing it before, for letting herself be swayed by his false intents and niceties. Her hands curled into fists, and she wasn’t proud of the violent thought that crossed her mind to seek retribution. Not for his lies, but for his intention to have innocent blood pay the price for his revenge.

  “How can you put your trust in a human girl?” Varlas seethed.

  “She would be dead if I found her to be disloyal. Her skills are invaluable,” Orlon defended coolly. Not out of care for her life, but for his choices.

  “What if she is the reason for the general’s unexpected departure?”

  Faythe sucked in a sharp breath. The heat was rising, and she wasn’t sure if it was from her own rattled fear or the close proximity of Nik and Tauria. She felt the prince’s sideward stare but di
dn’t look at him, her eyes remaining fixed on the two kings in anxious anticipation.

  Orlon stood from his throne, seeming bored and irritated by the Olmstone king’s doubts. “Trust me, Varlas, I will find out everything from the girl. I will get what we need to overthrow Rhyenelle, and when we do, I expect your fealty.”

  “Forgive me if I do not so easily place my faith in a human and a stone to take down a great kingdom.”

  She saw Orlon’s face twitch at the insult. “It is not what the stone can do, but the door it can open that will be Rhyenelle’s undoing.”

  Faythe almost swayed with the information, hot with dread over what she thought they spoke of. Then Orlon’s next words fell like a physical weight on her shoulders.

  “The Riscillius is within High Farrow and will be in my possession if I have to use and dispose of every human to get my hands on it.”

  Faythe straightened in cold horror. The boy had been right. The king was terrorizing his own citizens, using them as pawns to scour the town for the very stone Faythe held in the hilt of her sword. Her side felt heavy, and she refrained from reaching to where the pommel usually sat at her hip as she was currently unarmed. She couldn’t begin to fathom what the king would want with the Spirits—with Aurialis. And suddenly, she had the overwhelming fear that perhaps she had been played for a fool by more than one evil if the Goddess was on the king’s side of destruction all along.

  Varlas hummed. “This great power you speak of had better be worth the wait.”

  The wicked grin that spread across Orlon’s face twisted Faythe’s stomach. “Oh, it will be.”

  She couldn’t take any more. She stepped away from the small viewing vent and hastily made her way back, not glancing behind her to see if Nik and Tauria stayed to hear anything else. She felt dizzy, and the stone walls seemed to close in around her, making the passageway smaller. Her quick steps turned into a jog. When the narrow passage opened at the junction, Faythe paused to breathe, bracing her hands on her thighs. Her mind reeled and her heart thundered as she tried to process the information, though she failed to make sense of or accept any of it.