“How could you say such a thing? Did you forget those demons killed your mother?” He threw his cup of wine across the room, and Madinia flinched.
For the first time, I felt almost…sorry for her.
It didn’t excuse her awful behavior, but—
Her hand lit up. With fire.
A ringing sounded in my ears. She wasn’t yet twenty-five winters. Which meant…
Madinia was a hybrid.
Her father whirled, a choked sound escaping his throat.
Oh gods.
Madinia looked at her father.
And then she looked at her hand.
Something that might have been resignation flickered in her eyes.
She pressed her hand to her dress.
I’d frozen time before I realized I’d pulled the magic to me. Shoving wildly at the door, I slammed it behind me, launching myself across the room to a vase of flowers.
I began pouring, but I hadn’t grabbed enough of the thread of my magic. I’d acted purely on fear.
Time resumed.
Madinia let out a scream. Farrow roared.
I dumped the entire vase on Madinia’s dress, flowers included.
The fire went out. Our eyes met, and hers were bleak.
I’d just killed us both.
My throat tightened. Madinia had decided to burn on her own terms. And I’d saved her life just in time to end up caught in her father’s net myself. I’d sacrificed three hundred lives for this impulsive decision.
Turning, I watched Farrow. He was gasping for breath, his face red.
I had nothing left to lose. “Get a hold of yourself before you drop dead,” I snapped.
He gaped at me, clearly unused to anyone speaking to him with anything less than fawning respect.
“Corrupt,” he said.
“That’s right.”
I flicked a glance at Madinia. She was staring at me like she’d never seen me before. I paid close attention to her, just in case she got any interesting ideas about burning herself alive again.
Farrow turned his gaze on Madinia, and this time, his eyes filled with tears.
“How? Gods, how? How did I miss such a thing?”
I stared at him. Was he seriously asking that? “Maybe because of your determination to wipe out anyone you considered unclean.”
“Silence,” he snarled. He stared at Madinia as if he was already mourning her. “I don’t…understand.”
Since Madinia didn’t seem able to speak, I shook my head. “It’s simple. The woman you claimed to love? Madinia’s mother? The one whose name you insist on throwing around when you burn hybrids? She was one of the so-called corrupt.”
Madinia stiffened, and I shook my head at her. “Surely it must have occurred to you.”
“I… The gods…”
“The gods have nothing to do with this.” I didn’t have time to make the truth easier to swallow. “The king takes our magic because he wants it for himself. And because he thinks it will allow him to kill all the fae.”
Madinia took a step closer to her father. And her eyes burned with retribution.
“Is this true?”
Farrow swallowed. “The king’s intentions were good at the beginning.”
So, he had known the truth. I smiled a nasty smile. “At the beginning? Four hundred years ago, when he started a war with the fae?”
Farrow narrowed his eyes at me. “And just how do you know that information, hmm?”
If I hadn’t known what his power was, I would have stopped time at the vicious look in his eyes. But Farrow had no combat magic. No, his magic allowed him to strategize much better than the average person. It was why he was in charge of the guards at the city walls. And why it was so difficult to sneak in—or out—of the city.
“You’re saying the king is immortal?” Madinia gave me her usual haughty expression. I simply raised my eyebrow.
“Just one of the reasons he takes his subjects’ power. To keep himself alive.” My voice was bitter.
Madinia stared at me. Then her gaze was on her father. “Tell me she’s lying.”
Farrow couldn’t.
“Who else knows this?” I asked. I wanted to know just how many people were aware of the truth—how many the king had convinced to lie for him. How many people were not just dangerous, but were hypocrites too.
He was silent. Madinia’s hand lit up with fire once more. From the horror in her eyes, she hadn’t meant for that to happen. Farrow stared at her, his expression tight.
“You would hurt me?”
“You would see me burn,” Madinia hissed, and the fire burned brighter.
If she burned him here, we would both be arrested and executed immediately after. “Pull yourself together,” I advised her.
“Only the king’s inner circle know,” Farrow said finally. “Five other men.”
“Does his queen know as well?” I asked.
“I don’t know.”
Madinia was crying silently, tears dripping down her face. Unsurprisingly, she still looked beautiful. For the first time, I pitied her.
“We’ll get you out somehow,” Farrow said.
Madinia’s breath hitched. She hadn’t expected that. Neither had I. But I should’ve.
“Ah,” I said, my mouth curving. “What was it you said just yesterday about the corrupt and how you were looking forward to seeing them all imprisoned and burned?”
His mouth twisted, but he was wise enough to stay quiet. Next to me, Madinia’s silent tears turned to sobs.
I couldn’t help but continue. I was so sick of these royals and these courtiers, with their evil and their hypocrisy. “It’s different, though, isn’t it—when it’s your own? People like you are so quick to steal the freedoms—even the lives—of others, according to their own morality. But also so, so quick to change your minds when those same laws apply to the ones you love. Why is that, do you think?”
“Please,” he said, and my brow lifted. No, I hadn’t expected him to beg either. “You are close to the queen, and I’ve seen you talking to the Gromalian prince. You can get her out.”
“And why would I do that?”
“I would owe you a life debt. To be used whenever you like.”
Was I dreaming? This man whom I’d fantasized about murdering was going to be in my debt. Perhaps this was why Lorian made so many deals. It was heady, having the upper hand in one of those bargains for once.
“One condition.”
Hope sparked in his eyes. For all his contempt, he still had a weakness.
“Anything.”
“Repeat after me. I am weak. And I am also a hypocrite.”
“Enough, Setella,” Madinia said.
I ignored that. Farrow swallowed, some of the color coming back to his face. But he dutifully repeated my words.
Grim satisfaction swept through me.
“Fine,” I said. “Let’s talk about how you’re going to help me get your daughter, and all of the other hybrids, out of this castle.”
He sighed and sat, waving his hand for me to tell him what we needed. In the end, there was only one way he could help—we would be getting prisoners out through the tunnel, and they would need transportation from the market out of the city. Farrow would order the guards to allow the carriages, horses, and wagons through the city gates. And while those guards were loyal to him, we would likely have just a few minutes at most before at least one of them would question the order.