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Hava frowned. “She is a woman grown.”
When I’d taken her from the dungeon of Näkt Mir, she’d been only a slip of a female youth.
“Has he arrived yet back at Näkt Mir?” I asked, my magick humming for action.
“Word is he’s expected tonight. He plans to have Princess Una presented at his court to him tomorrow morning.”
“Poor princess,” murmured Dalya behind me. “She must be terrified.”
“That’s not all,” added Hava. “It’s said that he plans to cut off her wings and send them back to her father with his first demand for surrender.” She pulled her hood back over her head and small horns, adding quietly, “Then he’ll do other things…and cut off other parts.”
“No need to say anymore,” growled Soryn. “We know exactly what Xakiel is capable of.”
“How do you know all this?” asked Pullo.
Hava lifted her pointed chin higher. “I’m a good spy.”
Dalya quickly added, “And now we know that he plans to use the princess to finally gain the kingdom of Lumeria under his rule.”
“No,” I said so coolly while my body burned, my magick smoldering hotter. “Tomorrow morning, we’re going into Näkt Mir and take her first. Thenwewill use her to gain the allegiance of both Northgall and Lumeria.”
All eyes swiveled to me in silence.
“It’s time for me to take my throne.”
Chapter 3
UNA
The room was warm,but I still shivered. Sometime in the night, the blizzard had died. And with it, an impending doom settled over me. I had hardly slept since I’d been imprisoned in this room several days ago.
In the fireplace, they burned blue coal—a heat source quarried in their mountains. It gave off a pale luminescent blue light. It should’ve given me comfort, reminding me of the moonlit temple in my home of Valla Lokkyr. It did not. There was a solemn coldness to the light, casting its hue across the luxurious chamber.
When a servant had brought warm tea at dawn, she’d ordered me to change into the gown I now wore since I’d be presented at court today. Someone had crudely cut openings for my wings in the back since the gown was apparently made for a wingless dark fae.
Though the single window in this room was boarded shut, I could see through the cracks. The gray skies brightened as the morning waned.
The first few days here, I’d remained in the practical blue gown I’d been captured in. It was soiled with drops of blood from Min and filth from the journey. I’d allowed myself those days to mourn and grieve what I’d lost, but I also understood that being presented at court would mean that I’d face my people’s greatest enemy—King Xakiel, the Demon King of Northgall.
I had to shed my mourning shroud to face him. The dress I’d been given to wear wasn’t obscene in any way, other than the fact that it was pearlescent white. I wasn’t a fool. I understood what was happening. It was the color of innocence and purity and moon fae royalty.
King Xakiel wanted me dressed in pristine white, like the moon fae princess I was, to show his court he had captured the one who’d started the war in the first place. It was my capture and torture that had compelled my father to act so many years ago.
Here I was again in this hellish place, now a tool in the Demon King’s quest to force my people to surrender. But I wouldn’t go to him defeated and terrified. I’d swallow my fear and behave according to my station, no matter what he planned to do to me.
Still, I bit my lip, worrying over what Baelynn must be going through, not knowing where I was and fearing the worst. At least my father was bedridden and barely lucid. Small blessings for his illness now.
The bolt on the outside of the door clicked, and the door opened. A tall wraith fae wearing the black cloak of the guards stepped inside. He wasn’t one of the wraith fae who’d abducted me. Thankfully, I hadn’t seen anyone but maidservants since I’d been here. This warrior wore the black hood up over the horns that curled back along his head.
“Princess Una,” he said with gravity. “Come with us.”
I wondered briefly if this would be the march to my death, my pulse thumping in my throat. As I promised myself, I held my head high and walked straight-backed through the open door. There were three others, all hooded, waiting to escort me. One of them stepped beside me on my left—taller than the others—but he didn’t look at me or say a word.
The other one who’d opened my chamber door took his place on my right and moved forward. We made our solemn march through the black-walled castle.
After my capture, I’d become morbidly fascinated with the dark fae and their royal castle Näkt Mir. It was built on top of Vixet Krone, the former volcano that was the center of their realm. The castle’s walls were carved from volcanic glass. The last time I was here in the dank, ghastly dungeon, I imagined that the upper palace must’ve been a dark, depressing place.
I was wrong.
