The prince nodded.
“So if he orders you to deliver all of the executions he wants, have you killed any fae who’ve attempted to cause dissent?”
Norivun’s easy expression vanished. His look became haunted, as though a thousand ghosts tortured his soul. “Not those fae, no, but there were others in the past that I was forced to kill. Many winters ago, before I created that village in the Cliffs of Sarum, it was either kill them or—” He brought his drink to his lips again.
“Or what?”
“Watch my mother be tortured.”
I gaped, my mouth falling open so completely that I had to force myself to snap it closed. “What in the realm are you talking about?”
The energy around him grew. “My father isn’t who the public perceives him to be. He likes to control me. I’ve always been kept on a tight leash. He’s used my mother to ensure I stay obedient.”
A sick feeling grew in my stomach. “What do you mean?”
“From a young age, he knew of the power that lay within my veins, and he knew that once my affinities fully manifested, that he wouldn’t be able to stop me if I truly unleashed them on him. He knew I could take control of his throne—something he will never willingly relinquish—so many winters ago, he taught me what the consequences would be if I didn’t adhere to his rulings.”
The sick feeling inside me doubled. “By using your mother?”
He nodded. “If I don’t do as he commands, he forces her into isolation. If I refuse to kill fae that he wants disposed of, my mother is starved, and then there’s the physical beatings. He’s beaten her to within an inch of her life more times than I want to remember, and it was all because I hadn’t done exactly what he’d commanded.”
Nausea rolled through my stomach. A second passed and then another. I was so shocked that I couldn’t speak, but I managed to choke out, “That’s horrific.”
“It is. He’s a monster, Ilara, but our kingdom doesn’t know that. He’s used me as the scapegoat for so many seasons that our fae hate me, but they don’t hate him.”
I worked a swallow and then asked something that I couldn’t not ask. “Why haven’t you just killed him outright if he’s that evil? If he’s dead, he wouldn’t be able to hurt your mother.”
The prince took another sip of his whiskey, letting it roll across his tongue before he swallowed. “I’ve wanted to, so many times, but if I murdered the king in cold blood, regardless of my reasons, I would be held accountable. I would be brought to trial before the supernatural courts and found guilty. My execution would follow, and even if I managed to avoid that, even if I somehow managed to take the throne as my own, the Solis wouldn’t forget what I’d done. I’d one day find a knife in my back or a poison in my wine. Our continent would ultimately have my head if I murdered the king in cold blood.”
My breath came out in a rush. He was right. Of course, he was right. Murdering the king wouldn’t solve anything. It would only lead to Norivun’s downfall as well.
I sat back, trying to wrap my head around all of this. According to the prince, I was totally and completely wrong about everything. Prince Norivun wasn’t a murderer—the king was. And Norivun had never used his magic unjustly, only when forced to by the king’s hand.
I thought back to the fairy in High Liss, who the prince had killed with his affinity. I’d been so sickened by it then, thinking he’d done it without a second thought, but he’d given that male several chances to transform back into his fairy form. And the prince’s guards had been so furious when I’d accused the prince of being a cruel monster. It was because they’d known what the prince had done to save others. They’d been aware of the village hidden away in the Cliffs of Sarum. They knew who Norivun truly was.
“Do all of your guards know the king’s true nature?”
He took another drink and gave a curt nod. “They’ve been with me since I fully manifested. They’ve seen my father behind closed doors. They know.”
I shuddered. It felt as though insects crawled under my skin. Every interaction I’d had with the king had gone easily for the most part. I’d never once suspected that he could be one side of a two-faced coin. But things the prince had once said to me began to percolate in my conscience—things about his mother and my parents that had left me slightly confused at the time.
She lives in peace—when he’d been referring to his mother as we flew by her tower. She lived in peace, avoiding beatings and starvation, because of the sacrifices Norivun made to protect her.
I regret what taking your parents and brother from their lives did to them, you, and your sister. He’d removed my parents and brother from Mervalee and from my life, but he hadn’t killed them. He’d simply relocated them, which explained that strange description. And the time he’d lied outright to me about their deaths had been because he hadn’t known if he could trust me with his secret.
And what he’d said about the king. It’s important that my father doesn’t know what you are to me. It’s important that I act a certain way around you when he’s near.
My breath sucked in. Was that because he was afraid of his father learning I was his mate? That he knew the king could beat me, starve me, and torture me as he had his mother? Given what Norivun had revealed, it wouldn’t be above his father to also use me as a weapon to ensure his son stayed obedient.
My heart pounded as all of those strange comments fell into place. “Does all of this have anything to do with why your mother always looks so lonely?”
He nodded. “My father forbids her from interacting with other fae, and a long time ago, he built a magic-tethering chamber within this castle using spells I still don’t fully understand that trapped my mother’s affinities within her. I destroyed that chamber once I found out, but ever since that incident, she can’t access her magic normally. Sometimes, she’ll get glimpses of it, but no amount of effort on my part has found a way to counteract what he did and free her from the cage he’s locked her in. Now, she has to practice deep breathing regularly to keep her affinities at bay, otherwise she’ll implode without being able to properly utilize her Outlets.”
I made a sound, a half-strangled sob at the thought of living like that, and then with a crashing realization, I remembered that I’d witnessed her struggles. The way the queen had acted when I’d woken following the snowgum’s attack had been so bizarre. She’d looked rattled and had started taking strange, deep breaths.
It had to be true, everything the crown prince was saying. I’d seen firsthand the affects her locked magic had on her.
“But her hair’s hidden beneath her illusion spell, right? So she must be able to use some magic.”