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Chapter no 27

The War of Two Queens (Blood and Ash, #4)

I paced the bedchamber the following afternoon, the meal one of the less- chatty Handmaidens had brought in devoured only because I couldn’t afford to weaken.

Another white gown had been brought in with the food. Opting to wear what I had the day before, I’d destroyed the gown with a spark of eather. I shouldn’t have used the essence for such a childish thing, but the momentary joy it had brought was hard to regret.

Every so often, I sent the double doors a glare. I hadn’t seen or heard from the Blood Queen since they’d returned me to my chambers the evening before. I’d stayed in this damn room, only because I didn’t want to risk Kieran’s and Reaver’s safety in addition to Casteel’s.

I’d checked in with Kieran through the notam, letting him know that both Casteel and I were okay. He was relieved, but through the connection, I knew he had his doubts about Casteel.

I had doubts, as well.

My touch would’ve only brought him a few hours of relief—if that. Maybe not even that long. All I could do was pray that he’d been given blood and food. That healing those injuries had given him a longer reprieve. I’d desperately tried to sleep. To reach Casteel. I hadn’t been able to.

The room was too quiet and too big. Too lonely and too familiar. Too— I stopped myself.

None of that would help. What would, was focusing on what came next, which was what I’d been turning over in my mind for hours. Our plan had been to get into the capital and free Casteel and my father. That was still the plan. Except we’d been technically captured, and I didn’t know where my father was being kept if not here.

I would have to force Isbeth to tell me where he was when I came back for him.

I hated that—utterly loathed the idea of leaving Ires behind. But I had to get Casteel out, and soon.

Because he was not well.

I’d healed what injuries I could, but he was teetering on the edge of bloodlust and at risk of losing parts of himself. I couldn’t allow that to happen.

Searching out Kieran’s unique imprint, I found the cedar-rich sensation.

Liessa?

A wry grin tugged at my lips. Don’t call me that. My Queen, instead?

I sighed. How about neither?

His chuckle tickled its way through me. What’s going on? We need to get out of here.

There was a pause. What are you thinking?

We need to get to one of the Temples. Casteel has to be held somewhere near there. Underground. I paced by the window. We have the spell. Once we find the entrance to the tunnels, we can use it. It’s what we’d need to do next that I’m not so sure about.

Several moments of silence passed where I felt the woodsy sensation surrounding me. We can try the way we planned to get in.

Through the mines?

Yes. We can try to access them. Or…

My heart thumped heavily. They’ll expect that. There must be a better way.

Fight our way out.

I stopped at the window, staring across the capital. I’m not sure that’s a better option.

Fighting will be our only option no matter what, Kieran reasoned.

Either through one of the gates or from inside the Rise and into the mines.

We hashed it out, going back and forth until Kieran decided. The quickest way is to go straight for the eastern gates. We have Reaver. We have you. We can fight.

I worried my lower lip. If we do that—if I do that—we risk people seeing me as a demis. We risk the people believing the worst about us and fearing what is to come.

We do. There was another gulf of silence. But right now, we can’t worry about that. That’s not our concern. Cas is. Getting the hell out of here is. And if that means taking down a part of the Rise, then we take it down, Poppy.

I closed my eyes. The essence in my chest thrummed.

We can’t save everyone, Kieran reminded me. But we can save the ones we love.

A jolt ran through me. I’d known when speaking with the generals that there was a chance our plans could crumble around us. That we’d need to take down the Rises. That there would be untold loss of life. That we’d become the monsters the people of Solis feared.

And that stood true now.

Kieran must’ve sensed my acceptance because his next words were: We just need a distraction.

A distraction. A big one that would give us time to make our way through Wayfair and to the Temples.

My eyes opened, and I focused on the black stone of the Rise, looming in the distance. I have an idea.

 

 

My patience was stretched to its limits as I sat on the thickly cushioned chair in the alcove of the main floor of the Great Hall. A dozen knights and Handmaidens lined the wall behind me.

The sun had just begun to set for the evening when the Blood Queen summoned my presence. And yet, here I sat as she mingled.

I scanned the packed floor, the faces of so many mortals blurring together as they chatted and vied for a few moments of her time. She moved among them, flanked by Millicent and another Handmaiden. Like a vibrant bird, ruby crown shining, she smiled graciously as the mortals bowed. She didn’t wear white tonight. She, like Millicent, was draped in crimson.

I wasn’t quite sure how the gown remained on her body. Or if the upper half was made of some sort of body paint. It was that tight and sleeveless,

defying gravity. What neckline it had plunged to her navel, revealing far more than I ever wanted to see, considering—whether or not I wanted to admit it—she was my mother. The lower part of the gown was looser, but I didn’t dare look too long at the gossamer fabric. I didn’t need that trauma in my life.

“You look as if you’re enjoying yourself.”

At the sound of Malik’s voice, I stiffened even more. “I’m having the time of my life.”

There was a brief, rough chuckle as he brushed past my chair, sitting on one of the empty two that were on either side of me. “I’m sure you are.”

I said nothing for a few moments. “I have no idea why she summoned me to the Great Hall.”

“She wanted you to see how loved she is,” Malik replied. “In case the display in the Great Hall wasn’t sufficient.”

Glancing over at him, I watched him lift a glass of red liquid to his lips. I couldn’t be sure it was wine. He had spoken softly, but the knights and Handmaidens were close enough to have heard him. No one else was around. What I’d felt from him the day before preyed on my mind as I returned my attention to the floor. “Of course, they love her. They’re the elite of Carsodonia. The wealthiest. As long as their lives are easy, they will love whoever sits on that throne.”

“They’re not the only ones. You saw that for yourself.”

I had. “Only she gives Blessings with Atlantian blood.” I looked at him again. He shrugged. “Something that cannot have any long-lasting effects.”

He took another drink.

“And she has them afraid—”

“Of you,” he spoke. “The Harbinger.”

I forced a slow, even breath. “What she told the people yesterday was a lie. Those in Oak Ambler and the other cities haven’t been abused. You, no matter what you think now, have to know that the Atlantians—your father

—would never have done what she claimed.” Malik once more had no response.

“The people here will eventually learn the truth,” I continued into the silence. “And I don’t believe that every mortal in Carsodonia believes her to be a benevolent Queen. Nor do they support the Rite.”

Malik lowered his glass. “You’d be right not to believe that.”

I watched him closely, opening my senses to him as he stared out over the floor. The cracks were still in those shields. “I saw Casteel yesterday.”

His face showed nothing, but I caught the sudden taste of sourness.

Shame.

“He wasn’t in good shape.” I lowered my voice as I clasped the arms of the chair. “He was nearly lost to bloodlust. He’d been injured and—”

“I know.” His jaw was hard, and when he spoke, his voice was barely above a whisper. “I cleaned him up the best I could after the Queen sent you such a lovely gift.”

Malik had been to see him.

Casteel hadn’t shared that, but there really hadn’t been many opportunities for him to relay information. Someone had wrapped his hand. That had to mean something. That, and the raw agony I felt from Malik. What it meant exactly, I wasn’t sure.

I leaned toward him, and the shoulders under the white shirt tensed. “You know how to find him, then,” I whispered. “Tell me—”

“Careful, Queen of Flesh and Fire,” Malik murmured with a brittle twist of his lips. “That is a very dangerous road you’re embarking upon.”

“I know.”

His gaze slid to mine. “You don’t know much if you think I will answer that question.”

I tamped down the rising tide of anger. “I felt your pain. Tasted it.”

A muscle began ticking in his jaw. “That was, by the way, very rude of you,” he said after a moment. “And it hurt.”

“You lived.”

He gave a short huff of laughter. “Yeah, I lived.” He took another drink. “That’s what I do.”

The sardonic twist of his words had me studying his features. “Why? Why are you here. With her? It’s not because she opened your eyes to anything, let alone the truth. She’s not that persuasive.”

Malik said nothing as he stared ahead, but I saw his attention shift beyond the Blood Queen to the dark-haired Handmaiden. It was brief. I would’ve missed it if I hadn’t been watching him so closely.

“It’s her.”

His gaze shot to mine, and then his expression slipped into a half-grin. “The Queen?”

“Millicent,” I said quietly.

He laughed again, another short burst of dry sound.

I sat back. “Maybe I’ll ask the Blood Queen if she thinks you’re here for her or for her Handmaiden.”

Slowly, Malik leaned across the small space between us. “Ask her that,”—that lone dimple appeared—“and I will wrap you in the bones of a deity and throw you into the godsdamn Stroud Sea.”

“That’s a bit of an excessive threat,” I replied, as satisfaction surged through me. It was excessive. Which left very little reason as to why. He had to care. “It’s the kind of reaction I’d have if you threatened Casteel.”

Malik looked at me.

I smiled. “Except mine wouldn’t involve deity bones or the sea. Nor would it be an empty threat.”

He finished off his drink. “Noted.” His gaze flicked to the floor. “She comes.”

The Blood Queen approached. Malik rose. I didn’t. Murmurs drifted from the floor as I stared up at her. Isbeth’s features sharpened as she swept past me and lowered herself onto the chair on my other side. Only then did Malik sit. Dozens of eyes watched as Millicent remained in front of us, joined by the other Handmaidens. Their straight backs provided a rather impressive screen of privacy.

Someone handed the Blood Queen a glass of bubbling wine. She waited until the servant disappeared into the shadows before saying, “We’re being watched, and they find your lack of respect toward a Queen—your behavior

—to be disgraceful.”

“And if they knew the truth about you? About the things you’ve done?” I asked, watching a young couple speak as they gazed up at the statue of what I had always assumed was Nyktos but apparently wasn’t.

“I doubt that it would change much for most in this room,” she noted. “But we know what they’d do if they learned who you are.”

“A god and not a Harbinger.”

“One and the same to many,” she murmured.

I stiffened. “Perhaps, but I am willing to prove to them that they have nothing to fear from me.”

“And how will you do that?”

“Well, I could start with not taking their children and using them as cattle,” I replied.

“Was Tawny used as cattle?” She gestured at the crowd with a jeweled hand. “Or any number of the Lords and Ladies in Wait in attendance tonight?”

“No, they will just be turned into creatures who will then prey upon others with little remorse.”

Her dark gaze slid to mine. “Or they will cull the weak from the masses.”

My lip curled. “You really believe that?” “I know that.” She took a drink.

It took a lot to stop myself from knocking the crystal glass from her hand. “And the children taken during the last Rite? The ones that were hung beneath Redrock?”

“Serving the gods.”

“Lies,” I hissed. “And I cannot wait to see your face when all of those lies are exposed.”

She grinned as she looked out over the floor. “Do you think that I will allow your armies to lay siege to the capital like I have the other cities? Cities I don’t even consider a loss?” She turned her head to me. “Because they’re not a loss. But what has happened in those cities will not occur here. If your armies arrive at the Rise, I will line those walls and gates with newborns. And whatever draken you have left, whatever armies still stand, will have to burn and cut through them.”

I could only stare as I slowly realized that she was serious. My fingers dug into the arms of the chair as the Primal essence throbbed deeply within me. A faint tremor ran through me as I stared at the statue, but I only saw those mortals on Oak Ambler’s gates and the ones beneath Redrock. Beside me, Malik stretched forward as Millicent turned slightly. The couple standing before the statue frowned as they looked down to where the freshly dropped night-blooming rose petals…vibrated.

That was me.

My anger.

I was doing that.

Briefly closing my eyes, I reined in my emotions, and it was a lot like all those times I’d worn the veil and had been brought before Duke Teerman. When I had to just stand there and take whatever he dealt. It was also a lot like closing off my senses to others. Instead, I closed myself off

from my emotions. Only when the eather had calmed in my chest did I reopen my eyes. The petals had settled on the floor.

“Smart,” the Blood Queen whispered as Malik relaxed. “I see you have learned to control that power to some extent.”

I forced my grip to loosen on the chair arms. “Is that what you wanted to talk to me about? How you will slaughter more children and innocent people?”

“It will not be I who slaughters those mortals,” she stated. “It will be the armies under your command who do.” Her stare was intense. I felt it tracking over every inch of my face. “Or it will simply be you who does it. So, if you want to avoid that, you will make sure your armies stand down.”

I cut my gaze in her direction. “Now we’re going to discuss the future of the kingdoms? Do you think I will negotiate with you when this is how you plan to proceed?” The words came out of me in a rush. “I won’t give you Atlantia. I won’t order my armies to retreat. And I won’t let you use innocent people as a shield.”

Her attention shifted to the Prince. “Malik, if you don’t mind, I need to speak with my daughter in private.”

“Of course.” Malik rose, bowing as his eyes briefly met mine. He walked down the short set of wide steps, passing Millicent as he strolled onto the floor and was immediately swamped by smiling Ladies and Lords.

“They are so very charmed by him,” the Blood Queen said. “He’d have to beat them off with a stick if he wanted to.”

The Handmaiden looked away from Malik, her attention traveling farther across the Great Hall.

“Do you know what has kept me alive?” she asked after a couple of moments. “Vengeance.”

“That is…entirely cliché,” I remarked.

Her laugh was soft and short. “Be that as it may, it is the truth. And I imagine the reason it’s become so cliché is because vengeance has kept many alive during the darkest moments of their lives. Moments that last years and decades. I will have it.”

“The vast majority of Atlantians had nothing to do with what was done to you or your son,” I told her. “And yet, you think that controlling Atlantia will somehow give you that vengeance. It won’t.”

“I… I must admit something to you.” The Blood Queen angled her body toward mine. The scent of roses reached me. “I never really had any

intention of ruling Atlantia. I don’t need the kingdom. I don’t even want it. I just want to see it burn. Ended. I want to see every Atlantian dead.”

 

 

Casteel

She will die in your arms…

Millicent’s words kept cycling through my head. I hadn’t slept since she’d been here. I couldn’t stop thinking about who she was—what she’d shared. I couldn’t deny that she was Poppy’s sister. They looked too much alike. Hell, if the hair was the same color and Millicent had fewer freckles, they could almost pass as twins. And what she had said about Poppy? What she’d said I needed to do?

I growled low in my throat. Fuck that.

Even if Poppy were powerful enough to wreak the kind of havoc Millicent had warned of, she would never do it. That kind of evil wasn’t in her.

Millicent might be Poppy’s sister, but I didn’t trust her. And I didn’t trust a damn thing that had come out of her mouth.

Footsteps echoed from in the hall, jerking my head up. Golden Boy entered. Alone. He carried no food or water with him.

“What in the hell do you want?” I snarled, my throat dry. “I wanted to see how you were doing, Your Majesty.”

“Bullshit.”

He smiled, his facial paint and clothing so damn golden that he shone like a bulb of light. “You’re starting to look…not so well again.”

I didn’t need this jackass pointing out what I already knew. Hunger gnawed at my insides, and I swore I saw his pulse thrumming in his neck.

But the Rev just stood there, staring.

“Unless you’re here to tell me about the weather,” I drawled, “you can show yourself the fuck out.”

Callum chuckled. “Impressive.”

“Me?” I smirked. “I know.”

“Your arrogance,” he said, and a low rumble radiated from my chest as he stepped forward. His smile widened. “You’re chained to a wall, starved and filthy, unable to do anything to aid your woman, and yet you’re still so arrogant.”

Another growl clawed its way up my throat. “She doesn’t need my aid.” “I suppose not.” He touched his chest. “She stabbed me yesterday. With

my own dagger.”

A rough laugh left me. “That’s my girl.”

“You must be very proud of her.” He knelt slowly. “We’ll see how that changes.”

“It’ll never change,” I swore, my jaw throbbing. “No matter what.”

He studied me for a few moments. “Love. Such a strange emotion. I’ve seen it take the most powerful beings down,” he said. Millicent’s words knocked around in my head again. “I’ve seen it give others unbelievable strength. But out of all the many, many years I’ve lived, I’ve only seen love stop death once.”

“Is that so?”

Callum nodded. “Nyktos and his Consort.” I stared at him. “You’re that old?”

“I’m old enough to remember the way things used to be. Old enough to know when love is a strength or a weakness.”

“Don’t really care.”

“You should. Because it’s a weakness for you.” Those pale, unblinking eyes were unsettling as hell. “You know how?”

My lips peeled back. “I bet you’re going to tell me.”

“You should’ve fed from her when you had the chance,” he said. “You’re going to regret not doing that.”

“Wrong.” I’d never regret not jeopardizing Poppy’s safety. Never.

“We’ll see about that, too.” The Rev held my stare for a long moment and then moved.

He was quick. I jerked back at the sight of a glint of steel. There was nowhere to go. My reflexes were shit—

Pain exploded in my chest, taking with it the air in my lungs in a fiery wave. A metallic taste immediately filled my mouth. I looked down to see a dagger deep in the center of my chest and red everywhere, coursing down my stomach.

I lifted my head, biting out, “Missed my heart, dumbass.”

“I know.” The Rev smiled, yanking the dagger free. I grunted. “Tell me, Your Majesty. What happens to an Atlantian when there’s no more blood coursing through their veins?”

The wound felt like it was on fire, but my insides were drenched in ice. My heart gave a sluggish lurch. Bloodlust. Complete and absolute. That’s what happened.

“I hear it makes one as monstrous as a Craven.” Rising, he lifted the dagger to his mouth and ran his tongue along the blood-soaked blade. “Good luck.”

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