A Queen This Fierce and Deadly (Kingdom of Lies, #4)

by Stacia Stark

“Hair-pulling?” I snarled, kicking out at him like a mule. “Seriously?”

And he’d grabbed my hair again, yanking my head back. If I lived through this, I was cutting it all off.

Eadric’s words played through my head, his voice a low taunt. “You’re sitting there, half drugged, clamped in fae iron, yet you’re actively planning my murder, aren’t you?” Lorian sliced Eadric’s arm. Eadric roared and launched himself at him. “You just don’t know when to yield, do you?”

“Finish him, Lorian,” I said. His blade was a blur. And Eadric’s head rolled from his body. Exhausted, I raised my gaze. “As you wish, Your Majesty.” Lorian’s voice echoed over the crowd. He dropped to one knee, bowing his head. And so did everyone else.

Brinlor heaved a sigh. “Perfect,” he said. “I was hoping to spend some more time in cold water.”

“If I don’t keep you close enough to touch, you might risk your life again.” Who needed dry clothes? It turned out, fury could keep you just as warm.

He hesitated, glancing around. After a long moment, he caught the other end of my chain, holding it in his hand. Like. A. Leash. “I suppose that would be okay,” he said with a decisive nod. I imagined his head rolling free of his body.

“My brother is going to return,” Rythos said calmly. “And I will talk some sense into him. He’s a logical man.” “That’s your plan?”

“What would you like me to say, Madinia? I fucked up. And everyone we love is going to pay the price. Well, everyone I love. You don’t care about anyone but yourself.”

I fell into a sleep so deep, when Gwynara woke me the next morning, I blinked at her for so long, she laughed at me.

The likelihood of Demos allowing Telean to march into battle was about the same as me learning to fly.

“I’ve never had a problem believing in the gods. I just struggle to believe their existence is of any benefit to us.”

“I didn’t say they can’t hide magic. They can, after all, play with us in all kinds of diabolical ways.” He raised his chained hands. “As this experience has already proven,” he said bitterly. I rolled my eyes. “Yes, you are the true victim in this war.

“You start by mourning Cavis. You’ve been so busy blaming yourself for his death, you haven’t celebrated his life or come to terms with the fact that it has ended. There’s only one thing he wants from you. One day, when this is all over, he wants you to teach Piperia how to skip stones. The way he taught you all those years ago.”

“And Regner?” I asked. “The human king will attack your most vulnerable.” “Yes.” “You want to know his plans.” “Yes.” “Then let us bargain.”

“I wasn’t being completely honest when I told you I didn’t know what I wanted. That I hadn’t let myself think about what comes after this war. The truth is, I want to know you’re safe. That you’re happy and fulfilled. That you’re creating beautiful clothes and living the life you always dreamed of in that village. And if I’m still breathing, I want to be part of that life.”

My hand found my hourglass. Time. It all came down to time.

“Bravery is a choice. However, you can’t wait until the moment you need to be brave to reach for that bravery. Because if you haven’t been purposefully tending to it, building it up, you may find that it is not there when you need it. You must stoke the fires of courage little by little, day by day, so they are burning bright long before you ever need them. And you fuel or douse those fires—fanning the flames or snuffing them out—with the words you say to yourself. And with the words you allow others to say about you in your presence.”

I’d failed. And then I’d covered up my own failure by cheating the gods. And I would do it again.

I’d made myself helpless. I’d made myself a victim. And if I wasn’t careful, I’d build that wall higher around my power, using my own self-loathing.

For once, I didn’t push those feelings away. I didn’t pretend the voice in my head didn’t exist. I felt all of the shame and disgust and fury and helplessness. The world didn’t end. The feelings didn’t kill me. They came in waves, receding further each time. And then…for a few seconds…I was at peace.

After everything Demos had said…was he backing away from me once more? “Sin.” He took my arm. “I wanted you to rest. Today will be a long day, and you looked so exhausted. Besides, I liked seeing you sleeping in my bed.”

“Just the sight of you like this is almost bringing me to my knees. Have mercy before you make promises like that.”

“I want centuries with you.”

We had a future. I knew we did. And I wouldn’t let Regner take it from us.

I was completely, entirely swept up in the thought of spending the rest of my life with the autocratic, overprotective hybrid prince. My best friend’s brother. At least I knew Prisca would be delighted.

My shot was smooth, fast, almost effortless. It felt wrong to admire my new crossbow while the soldier bled his life away beneath us. But I still gave it one quick, appreciative stroke.

“You’re going to do this, Asinia.” His voice was grim. “You’re going to live through this war. And if I’m not around, you’re going to find a man who makes you happy. You’re going to become a renowned seamstress and have children who look exactly like you, and you’re going to live a long life filled with peace and happiness.” “You fucking bastard,” I choked out. “How dare you?”

“What the fuck is that?” Cryton yelled. I whipped my head in the direction he was pointing. A few hundred footspans from us, where Prisca had dropped into the tunnel to our kingdom… Vynthar sprinted toward us. And at least fifteen other Drakoryx loped out with him.

Lorian was speaking with Galon and Marth. “For Cavis,” he said. “For Cavis.” Marth’s voice was hoarse. “For Cavis,” Galon agreed. “And for us.” His gaze drifted over the soldiers before landing on Natan’s body, Tibris and Vicer still at his side. “For all of us.”

The soldier’s head rolled free from his body. Galon and Demos both looked my way, wearing identical snarls. Time resumed. “You’re fucking welcome,” I muttered. Behind me, Blynth made a choked noise. It sounded suspiciously like a laugh.

“The ward falling took the serpents by surprise,” Demos said, his voice heavy with grief. “How many do you think are left?” He swallowed. “The ones the humans managed to kill? They’re the babies.”

On my right, Demos roared orders into the trowth stone, choosing the best possible moments for me to use my power. To my left, Zathrian poured everything he had into me, and I gladly took what he had to offer. The three of us were the last of my grandmother’s bloodline. I hoped she was watching. And I hoped that even if we died today, some part of her would be proud.

Telean’s voice sounded in my head. “She was my best friend. We were supposed to have centuries.” No. Please no.

The roar Demos unleashed echoed across the battlefield. “Asinia!” “It brought up a lot of memories.” His voice played through my mind. “Memories of being helpless when I lost the people I loved.” I hated myself for doing this to him again. But he would live. And it was enough.

Her bloodshot eyes found the wreckage of the mirror. And then they cut to me. For the first time, I was truly afraid of the hybrid queen.

Pelysian’s expression tightened. “If only you’d chosen differently. I had…hopes for you. For us.” His expression hardened. “In times of war, sacrifices must be made. Goodbye, Your Majesty.”

“Give her a moment,” I said. Demos growled. “You’ve always given her too much rope.” “No,” I said as she lifted her head. “You’ve never given her enough.”

Prisca limped over to me. And she was using that red stone once more as she spoke. “Let it be known across all four kingdoms. The human power was returned by Madinia Farrow.” I winced, and she laughed, the sound rolling across the shore.

I am old. I am tired. I miss the people I love. Your mother was my best friend. Even after all these years, I find myself constantly searching for your mother’s face in a crowd or reaching for parchment to write to her.

I love both of you so much. I hate that I have to leave you. But it is right for the young to outlive the old. Live a life you will be proud to tell all of us about when we see you again. —Telean.

Set with jewels, the crown was cold and heavy.

“I think I traumatized Madinia.” I laughed. “A little fear is probably good for her.”

“She stepped away when I forced her to get some fresh air. She’ll be very unimpressed that you woke to the sound of my voice and not her own.”

He’d gone to war without her, leaving her to run their kingdom. And then he’d almost died. I shook my head. Emara was going to make him very, very sorry.

“Did you decide between cobalt blue and cerulean paint?” Wrapping my arms around her, I nuzzled her cheek. “Why is it that these women think I am the one who should be asked these questions?” Prisca’s entire body shook. And a strange snorting sound left her throat. “What did you do?” I nipped her ear and turned her in my arms. “I may or may not have told everyone you truly enjoy making such important decisions.” “You. Did. What?”

“The people who’ve stayed in this kingdom haven’t interacted much with the fae. And you’re…you. I wanted people to see that you could be patient and interested. That you’re not that scary after all.” She peered up at me through her lashes, her fingers playing with one of the buttons on my shirt. I suddenly saw a lot of decisions about furniture in my future. “Fine. But you owe me.”

“It seems as if we might have a problem,” she said. “Because when I woke up, I was instantly irritated that you weren’t there.” I leaned back far enough to meet her gaze. “This is embarrassing.” “Humiliating,” she agreed. “Let’s never tell anyone.” “Deal.”

Vynthar appeared from between two trees. He stared at me but didn’t speak. We were currently “feuding,” as Prisca liked to call it. The creature had decided his proper place was napping in her bed. And I was feeling more than a little territorial.

Demos’s voice was soft. Gentle. I’d gone away again. When all I really wanted was to be here.