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

  “I’m fine,” she answered. Pushing off the wall, she began to walk on weak legs, desperate to make it to her rooms to be alone. Reylan followed, and she added, “Thank you, but you shouldn’t have provoked him like that. Varis is… He’s dangerous.”

  “He’s nothing but a spineless coward who takes pleasure in dominating those he believes to be inferior.” Reylan caught her arm to halt her just before she made it to the door. “But you’re not inferior to anyone, Faythe. Your strength is within, and your weapon is internal. It’s his biggest mistake to underestimate you.”

  The backs of her eyes burned because she wanted to believe in his fierce words—but it was as if her mind was blocking any comfort or consolation from being absorbed into confidence. She didn’t deserve it.

  “You shouldn’t underestimate him, Reylan. You don’t know what he’s capable of.”

  His jaw tensed. “Has he hurt you before?” he asked carefully, his voice as sharp as a blade.

  She shook her head. “I’ve seen inside his mind. It’s not hard to guess,” she lied, and he seemed to know it.

  Reylan always carried himself coolly, collectedly, as if nothing fazed him. Seeing the flash of fury crease his usual stern indifference—it turned him into a whole new force to reckon with, a threat no man or fae would dare to cross or challenge. Despite this, Faythe wasn’t afraid. She didn’t think she could ever be truly fearful of him.

  “It was a long while ago. I took care of it then, and I can handle him now,” she said, reading the building temper on his face that made her worry he was fighting against screwing the consequences and confronting the captain with far more than words.

  Faythe had to turn away from the turmoil in his expression and kept walking until she got to her long-awaited destination. She wondered why he cared, why he was so affected by the knowledge, figuring it was simply overprotective fae male bullshit. She was about to open the door to her rooms, having every intention of locking herself inside until she came up with a plan to stop the evil at large, when Reylan’s voice made her pause with her fingers around the handle.

  “You don’t have to keep your thoughts to yourself,” he said softly.

  For once, she wished she could confide in the general to alleviate some of the burdens on her mind. But she couldn’t stand to even look at him. She had barely glanced at any of her friends in farewell. She couldn’t without thinking it might be any one of them whose days were numbered.

  “I want to be alone.” Her tone was cold, and it pained her physically that she didn’t really mean it.

  “If you want to talk about anything—”

  She whirled to him, taking all the anger she felt toward the king, the Spirits, and the damned world and pouring it into her voice. “We’re not friends, General, and we never will be. The sooner you realize that, the better for both of us. Stay away from me.”

  A flicker of something guarded flashed in his eyes, but it was wiped away quickly as he backed off with a formal nod. Something deep inside Faythe hurt awfully at the look.

  Without another thought, she tore her door open and shut it forcefully behind her.

  She waited and listened, hearing silence for a long moment. Reylan stood in place, and she could almost feel his desire to defy her wishes and come after her.

  Please stay away… she begged internally, fighting against her own want for him to knock and come inside. Then she listened to his few footsteps until his door opened and closed with a faint click.

  The moment she heard it…she let herself fall apart completely.

  Chapter 42

  Reylan

  Reylan stared at the door he knew Faythe stood behind after casting him away. His fists clenched as he refrained from trying to coax her to voice the worries that were clearly tearing her apart inside.

  We’re not friends, General.

  For some reason, that declaration emitted a small pinch to his chest. The pain of believing she truly meant it. They had never said as such, but perhaps foolishly, he had been letting himself believe she was starting to release those hard barriers around him. That given a bit more time, she would come to trust him like she so effortlessly did with her human friends. Even Nik and Tauria.

  Then there was the captain.

  As Reylan stood silent in the hall, it wasn’t only the contemplation of knocking on Faythe’s door that froze him still. It took all his focus and willpower not to damn the consequences and storm back to find Varis. He feared he’d do something that would cross a deadly line if he got the captain alone. Faythe’s panic around him…he could feel it from across the castle. And her plea for help, to escape him…

  Reylan took a few conscious, calming breaths on the spot. He couldn’t allow himself to imagine what Varis had done to instill such terror. He was sure he’d murder the captain without logical thought if given the opportunity.

  Cursing under his breath, he turned from the door, making the short stride to his own and hauling it open with more force than intended in his bitter frustration.

  He should have detected the presence inside long before he laid eyes on the Prince of High Farrow. He swore again inwardly that he was allowing his guard to slip over foolish concerns for a human who had no interest in even knowing him.

  “What are you doing here?” Reylan snapped, in no mood for friendly conversation and angered Nik thought it appropriate to enter his room without invitation.

  “Close the door,” was all Nik said before strolling out through the balcony doors.

  Reylan was too low on energy to object and eager to get the prince to leave as soon as possible so he could have some solitude. He wanted to give in to the torture of silence that fed on his anger and indignation.

  It had been far too long since Reylan last allowed himself to be so bothered by someone else. What Faythe did, what she thought, what she felt—he was tormented by it all. He shouldn’t concern himself with her beyond his duty to ensure she stayed alive; should instead leave her alone as she wished. Yet he had allowed himself to tangle his long-dormant feelings with her. Feelings of care. So slowly, since the day he laid eyes on those golden irises he didn’t even know, until it became too late. He couldn’t turn his back on her now.

  Stepping out against the cool air, he found Nik surveying his city with his back to him.

  “Those doors too,” he said without turning.

  The command flared Reylan’s already simmering anger, but he knew better than to voice a disgruntled string of curses to a prince, friend or not. So, he did as he was asked and stood silently waiting for Nik’s explanation of the encounter. Though he already had his suspicions.

  The prince turned to him, his expression stern and calculating. Reylan braced himself, figuring Nik had worked up a lecture since they left the human town after all the shocking revelations. He had to pity him for finding out how his mother had passed, discovering his father, out of his right mind, was the culprit… Reylan knew the pain of losing parents and more, but he couldn’t imagine laying the blame on someone he loved and trusted like Nik did his father.

  “Out with it then,” Reylan said when Nik continued to silently assess him.

  Nik’s chest rose deeply before he spoke. “Why did you really come back to High Farrow?”

  Reylan blinked. It wasn’t the question he expected, as it was one he had already answered, albeit vaguely and withholding some truth. “You know why,” he replied, growing irritable at Nik’s accusatory look.

  “Let’s cut the bullshit, Reylan. After all we’ve been through, at least extend me the courtesy of the truth.”

  “I’m here to stop a war before your father destroys everything we’ve built,” Reylan snarled.

  Nik didn’t balk. “I know you well enough. You’re a fine war general. Spying in plain sight would be a fool’s move with everything you know. Everything you stole from Faythe.”

  There it was. The mention of the human he knew held a place in the prince’s heart. He wanted to admire Nik for his pro
tection of her, but he could only see white at the hint that Reylan would ever mean her harm.

  “I’ll only ask once more,” Nik went on, the tone prodding at some primal dominance. Reylan had to focus his breathing. “Why did you come back?”

  “I came back for her.”

  It tumbled out of him so recklessly. Seeing the hard look in Nik’s eye, his stance, so ready to protect Faythe…from him. Reylan was a fool for exposing himself, but he couldn’t stand the thought of being considered a danger to her.

  The prince straightened, Reylan’s confession having the opposite effect as his whole demeanor changed. His scent shifted, turning threatening. Reylan realized he was in dangerous waters because he couldn’t back down, couldn’t submit to the challenge. Even against someone above his rank.

  He smoothed the edges of his sharp anger, knowing it was he who owed an explanation. “I’m not your enemy,” he reiterated.

  Nik didn’t loosen his posture in the slightest. “What do you want with Faythe?” His voice was dark. A hint of a warning lay in the words, and Reylan’s eyes flashed. He clenched his teeth, fighting the damning need to level with it. The tension between them became so thick it was almost palpable.

  “I’m certainly not her enemy either,” he ground out.

  “Are you sure? Faythe doesn’t seem to think so.”

  He knew he should submit to Nik’s dominance, not only because he was a prince, but because he had every right to be defensive of his friend. Or perhaps she was still more than a friend to him—it wasn’t hard to detect some romantic history between them. The thought riled a different kind of emotion in him that prevented Reylan from seeing sense in the situation.

  “You’re always around her, always prying into her life when you have no business—”

  “And you do?” Reylan flared. He couldn’t help it; couldn’t stop it. “Do you even know her at all?”

  Nik’s jaw flexed as he took a step toward him. It was dangerous. Dangerous for the two of them to be alone while they were both high on anger and indignation. He hated the distrust between them, but he knew he could only blame himself for withholding information. Reylan hadn’t wanted to confide in Nik before—not because he didn’t trust him, but because he didn’t want to put him in a position of choice if he knew the truth about the human he so dearly cared for. Faythe’s safety came first, by the order of his king. His stomach churned with the seed of guilt that he couldn’t be certain Nik would go against his father should the worst of his fears come true.

  “You’d be wise to abide by her wishes and stay away,” Nik said, authority coating the command.

  Reylan huffed an incredulous laugh and shook his head. “Have you ever really looked at her, Nik? Have you ever stopped gawking and pining for long enough to see her?” It seethed out of him. He couldn’t hold it back even though he knew it would erupt into the type of fury that had Nik reaching for his sword.

  His hand curled around the hilt, but he made no move to arm himself. Reylan knew it was an instinctive reaction in response to the insult he’d inadvertently thrown.

  “You don’t have a clue,” Reylan went on anyway. “All you see is power to be used and a beauty to admire.”

  “I have never used Faythe. Never.”

  “No, you sit by and let your father do that.”

  Nik did draw his sword then and pointed the lethal tip to his chest. Reylan didn’t back down but didn’t arm himself in response. It would be a grave mistake to physically threaten a prince.

  “So, what—you’re here because you care for her?” Nik mocked.

  Yes. No. Yes. Reylan wasn’t certain. Not at first. He profusely objected to being sent back north. Yet now, somewhere along the line of duty, he had come to care for Faythe. Torturously. He was a fool. Though he would never admit that to Nik—perhaps not to anyone, ever—when it had taken so long for him to realize it within himself.

  The prince’s face once again turned tight when Reylan didn’t answer. “You didn’t seem surprised by the fact she’s half-fae.” The statement held both question and accusation.

  “No,” he said carefully.

  Nik didn’t lower his sword. “When Aurialis mentioned Faythe’s mother in Rhyenelle, you didn’t seem surprised by that either.”

  Reylan raised his chin in reply, letting Nik put the pieces together in his own mind.

  The prince’s brow knitted with a hint of disbelief. “You knew her?”

  Nik huffed a humorless laugh, finally lowering the threat of his blade as he turned to pace, going over clues internally. Then he whirled back around, face falling in pale dread.

  “You weren’t…involved with her, were you?”

  Reylan’s eyes widened a fraction, not believing that was the first conclusion he’d drawn. “Gods, no,” he responded quickly. “Lilianna and I were somewhat close, but certainly not in the way you’re thinking.”

  Though Nik’s expression washed with relief, it was short-lived when his brow furrowed deeply. Reylan instantly knew what had him contemplating.

  “You never asked Faythe her mother’s name, did you?” Nik locked his gaze, knowing it would strike a chord of familiarity in him.

  “Think about it, Nik. Her father is a Nightwalker, a powerful one, just like her mother. But that was never known. A human Nightwalker is not something that should become public knowledge. People fear what they do not know.” Reylan could almost see the cogs turning in the prince’s mind as he tried to piece together the answer that was right in front of him. “You may not have met her in person as her time at court spanned less than a decade, but her name was common gossip across the kingdoms. Lilianna Aklinsera, the human woman…who stole the heart of a great fae king.” Reylan held his breath. Then he saw the exact moment in the prince’s emerald eyes that he grasped the truth. The world-shifting truth that fell like a weight on Nik who took a step back as if he’d been dealt a physical blow.

  “That can’t be true,” Nik muttered through a breath, looking away while he mulled it over. “Faythe can’t be… Gods above.”

  Reylan didn’t need to insist or even reply. It was clear the prince was fitting everything else together just fine.

  With the secret out, Reylan felt the need to explain. “Her eyes…they’re just like her mother’s. Agalhor’s scent is there, but it’s faint. I only detected it because I was looking, but the moment I saw those eyes, I knew. Nik—” Reylan dropped his stern posture, feeling his anger fizzle in the presence of a fear so great. “Your father cannot find out.”

  The prince looked at him, face distraught, and it was the exact reason he initially chose to harbor the secret. It disturbed him to see Nik with a torn heart.

  “He would harm her to get to him. To get to Agalhor…he might even kill her.” Reylan could barely whisper the last part, feeling the air leave him completely at the thought.

  Nik said nothing, his face remaining like stone.

  “Please.” It slipped from Reylan’s mouth, the word he so very rarely had to use.

  The prince seemed to snap out of his deep thoughts, locking eyes with the general. His own were hard, and for a split second, Reylan braced for the worst. “Did you really think the worst of me? That I would go running to my father knowing it would put Faythe in danger?” Nik’s voice was pained, twisting Reylan’s gut out of shame.

  “I couldn’t take the chance,” Reylan said, and he didn’t feel guilty for it. Not when it came to Faythe’s life.

  “Of course I’m not going to tell my father,” Nik snapped. He ran a hand through his ink-black hair. “Shit,” he swore.

  Reylan knew his anger wasn’t from the knowledge or even directed at the general for keeping it from him. Nik’s disappointment was in himself for somehow not realizing who Faythe was sooner. His gaze targeted him again.

  “She’s an Ashfyre,” he said in no more than a whisper while he glanced over the stone wall. They were high enough he was confident they were out of hearing range below, and Reylan had alread
y extended his senses to know there were no lingering bodies on the other balconies. “You mean to tell me all this time, with everything we know, we’ve held an Ashfyre in our midst, and you’ve done nothing!” Nik hissed low.

  “Agalhor won’t force her to Rhyenelle.”

  “Then I bloody well will!” Nik seethed, but his voice was torn with heartbreak.

  Reylan found himself in mutual agreement with the prince. He’d more than once thought to damn Faythe’s choice and take her back to the south with him regardless, back to where she would be unconditionally protected. He only hoped once she knew everything, she would see sense that it was the safest place for her. In fear of the opposite, he’d swallowed his confession of the secret he harbored and hated himself for it. For his cowardice, and for keeping it from her for so long. More than anything, he feared it would drive a wedge of deeper mistrust between them when she found out.

  “You haven’t told her?”

  Reylan recoiled with guilt. “No.”

  “Well, we have to tell her!” Nik threw an arm out in exasperation.

  “I will. I plan to. She just—not yet. Not after everything that happened in the town and before that. She doesn’t need the weight of anything else right now.” Again, his words came out in a pathetic plea, and he internally cursed at himself for it.

  “What do you mean, ‘before that’?”

  “She’s not been the same since venturing those caves.”

  Nik’s face fell knowingly. “She hasn’t spoken to you about that either?”

  Reylan shook his head. Faythe’s walls were solid. Her incessant need to protect those around her kept her worries and burdens on the side no one could penetrate. The way through was not to take a hammer to the barrier she’d so expertly crafted, brick by brick, her whole life; it was through patience and persistence without force, to get her to open the door she didn’t know she’d attached to it.