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

by Stacia Stark

“In every life, wildcat. No matter what happens, you hold on to that. It’s you and me in every life.”

My grandmother gave her a hard look and then returned her gaze to me. “In the unlikely event that you don’t join us in the afterlife, there will be consequences. Grave consequences.”

Her own amber fire burned even brighter. “Change the world, granddaughter. And heal our kingdom.”

“I don’t know what you did,” I ground out. “But you don’t get to leave me here without you. You will fucking come back to me, or I will follow you and drag you back myself.”

She was breathing. But she wasn’t opening her eyes.

Oo is she going to be blind? Is that the consequence?

“Some fae woman has been handing over creatures from her territory for years. Calls herself a warden or something.”

Yikes. That bitch.

And if you find the grimoire, you’ll be as powerful as Sabium. This continent will bow to you. It was a heady thought. Everything Sabium had achieved, the power he had amassed, the creatures he had leashed… All of it could be mine.

“Don’t thank me. One day, you’ll return to your kingdom with your people. We humans will be left with whatever remains of Eprotha. We have no choice but to make sure there is something left.”

And I kept having the strangest feeling that I was being watched.

I understood Demos more than I ever had before. He had been forced to watch the people he was supposed to protect die. They’d offered him their trust, their allegiance, their friendship. And he blamed himself every day for their deaths.

Amusement glinted in Eadric’s eyes, and he sipped his wine. Why did he not seem at all fearful of Sabium?

Zathrian instantly shook his head. “It is a defiance of the gods for her to have used it even once. They will be paying attention to her now. Likely, it required a piece of her soul to achieve it the first time.”

I’d convinced him to drop the formal address while we were in private, but I was no longer fighting my birth name. Nelayra was the hybrid heir. It was Nelayra whom the hybrids would go to war for.

Would I try to steal Zathrian’s army—my army—out from beneath him? Without hesitation.

This was all Prisca’s fault. That bitch got beneath my skin. She made me care.

His hand caught my chin, and he waited until I met his eyes. They softened. “Don’t you dare believe for one second that your worth as a queen—or even as a person—depends on your ability to access that power.”

100%

Rythos burst out laughing. “With a woman as stubborn as you, threats are all Lorian has.”

😂

He gave me a faint smile. “I heard Cavis. He was the one who warned us of the soldier attacking Rythos.”

Who would follow the hybrid heir if they learned the time power she wielded no longer existed?

Perhaps he’d decided he had done enough. Given enough. He’d saved lives when the skyrions attacked the rebel village. He’d gone with Asinia and Demos to keep them safe. He’d done so much more than I could’ve ever hoped. But I wished I could have thanked him. Wished I could have said goodbye.

Doubt it! He’ll be back!

“No. I think Vicer is smart, and he’s lucky. He’s managed to survive all this time, after all.” I’d gone straight to denial. But I truly couldn’t imagine Vicer being struck down in that village.

This time, I let my lips curve. But Daharak’s grin disappeared. “Heed my words, Madinia Farrow, for I have a tiny drop of my mother’s sight. If you refuse to open your heart to those who would lay down their lives for you, you will not arrive on the eastern continent with just a purse full of coin. You will also carry with you a heart full of regret. And that heart will be much, much heavier than any coin you can imagine.”

Telean sighed. “You are more than just your power, Prisca. Look at how much power Regner has. And look at what he has done with it.” My aunt cupped my cheek, smiling up at me. “Even if your power never returns, I have no doubt that you will be a glorious queen.”

Prisca’s thoughts seemed to be similar to mine, because her eyes met Madinia’s in the mirror. “I’m not sorry that you care, Madinia. Because when someone like you takes an interest…worlds change.”

Lorian stood next to Marth, Rythos, and Galon. He shifted his gaze to his left, as if someone were standing on his other side. My heart clenched. He was picturing Cavis next to him. And I watched as his eyes gleamed with a flicker of amusement––as if his dead friend had made some pithy remark.

Strangely, something was fluttering in my stomach. Lorian leaned over and wrapped me in his arms from behind, pressing a kiss to my temple. “Nervous?”

“He said you looked beautiful. And that I had better treat you well.”

Realization came swiftly. The name held no power over me anymore. I would no longer feel ashamed of it. I was the Bloodthirsty Prince. And I would keep that title until the day I died. To keep her safe.

Spare me from these powerful men and their ancient grudges.

He shrugged. “You don’t have to. But you know what I think? I think you woke up without your power, and you subconsciously latched on to that as the punishment the gods gave you for turning back time those few seconds. Some part of you was relieved at the thought that the loss of your power was your punishment. Because it meant your punishment wouldn’t involve losing anyone else you loved 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.”

“There is one who can remove that power from you,” she said. “One day, he will come to you for help. But it will not be for many years. In the meantime, I give you this advice… The dead have only the power you give them.”

Prisca leaving her cousin alive was foolish but entirely expected. And she would live to regret her mercy.

I kept hoping for the queen to surprise me, but she’s still just another snake.

I gave him a cool, calm look. The look I’d perfected in Regner’s court. “I spoke to my son. He will use his power for the correct purpose when it is time.” Zathrian sat up. “I’m listening.”

I really hope Jamic stays good.

Battles across our history had been won and lost based not just on weapons, weather, or location. But also due to courage, friendship, and bravery.

Not when I felt so unworthy.

Vynthar sprinted toward us. And at least fifteen other Drakoryx loped out with him.

In the distance, behind the terrovians, Prisca and Lorian rode toward us on horseback, Galon and Marth by their sides.

A group of Drakoryx. Vynthar leading them as he snarled threateningly, refusing to cede a single inch of ground. I swallowed a sob. My friend hadn’t abandoned us. No, he’d gone to gather the remainder of his kind. And by fighting with us here today, they were risking their extinction.

Lorian had never once softened the truth to make it more palatable for me. He wasn’t about to start now. But he would be by my side until the end. Of that, I had no doubt.

And together with the cousin whose parents were responsible for the loss of my own, the cousin who had killed my husband and mate while challenging me for my throne… We held time hostage and gave our people everything we had.

Prisca fought like a warrior. If we lived through this, I would commission a portrait of her, teeth bared, eyes glowing gold as she killed savagely for her kingdom.

“I spent every last coin I had on those ingredients,” she smiled. “Ameri was born for such tasks. But I knew only one of us would get out. I bargained with the gods to keep Nelayra alive, and I was always going to die today. I’m glad I died doing something that made a difference. Tell her to check Tibris’s healer’s bag.”

“Not properly. I’m sorry I became so consumed with what it meant to wear the crown, and I forgot about what it meant to be your brother.”

“You’re mine. And I’m yours. Until the end of time.”