Or she could hold them both captive until the three days had passed. Lorcan would have to travel to the Immortal Tree to try to regain access to their power—if she let him go.
Or she could kill them both and leave the kingdom of Dorjhalon without a king. But where would that leave their world?
She believed what Caedmon had believed—what he’d died trying to regain. There was supposed to be balance. Light and Dark, summer and winter, working together to bring life through its full circle every year. Their world and the world beyond them needed both to survive. There had never been a time when there wasn’t a king of Dorjhalon and a queen of éadrolan to rule together, keeping that balance. No one truly knew what would happen if one kingdom was left without a monarch.
So what did she do now?
Tanvir stepped forward and, with his eyes on Lorcan, quietly said, “You don’t have to make a decision now. Take them back to the castle and think on it for a day or two.”
Evelayn waved him back, not wanting to appear as though she needed his advice. But regardless, his words aligned with what she’d been leaning toward.
“Take the captives to the castle and keep them bound until I decide their fates,” Evelayn finally said, turning away from Lorcan’s disconcerting silver eyes. “Send word that their mother, Queen Abarrane, be brought to the castle as well. The rest of the Dark Draíolon are free to resume their lives, as long as they are willing to make an oath of peace with us. Any unwilling to make that oath shall be sentenced to captivity until such time as their power is returned. If at that time they are still unwilling to make a vow to uphold the peace we have regained, they will be sentenced to death.”
She paused and looked around at all those gathered, they moved quickly to follow her commands. As Kel and Teca organized the others and roughly guided Lorcan and Lothar back the way they’d come, toward the castle, it finally, truly hit her.
Evelayn looked up at the expanse of azure sky above them and tears filled her eyes. I did it, Mama, she thought, hoping that somewhere, somehow, her mother was still watching and was proud of her. She swallowed the emotion down, and when she looked back at Tanvir and Kel and Teca and the rest of those who had helped her defeat King Bain, she was smiling.
“Let the word be spread through both kingdoms—peace has been restored at long last!”
THE DUNGEONS IN éADROLAN WERE QUITE DIFFERENT from those in Dorjhalon. They’d been there long enough for Lothar to be quite certain of it. Just as he was certain that even though the three of them were sharing one cell, his mother and brother were still keeping something from him.
Three weeks they’d been locked there together without one glimpse of Queen Evelayn. Perhaps she had decided to let them rot. So much for her claims of wishing for balance.
In Dorjhalon, the cells were made of obsidian and quartz. The walls were slick and dark and cold. But in éadrolan the cell was one continuous circular enclosure, carved out of a pure white stone Lothar had never seen before. It never seemed fully dark there; even in the middle of the night their prison almost seemed to glow, the white stone reflecting the tiniest particles of light back at them.
It was nearly impossible to sleep. Or even rest.
So instead, Lothar paced. And listened.
There were three cots set up for them. The bedding was actually quite nice, soft and clean. And their guards allowed them to leave and use the privy, rather than forcing them to use a chamber pot in front of one another. As far as being imprisoned went, the queen had seen to it that they were not treated like common criminals. But they definitely weren’t being treated as royalty, either.
“Cots,” his mother had sneered when they’d dragged her in, four days after Lorcan and Lothar had been locked up, lifting her hands as if to burn the offensive sleeping situation, only to realize she had no power to draw upon. “She claims to want peace and this is how I am to be treated?”
No one answered her, because Lorcan hadn’t spoken in days, and because Lothar had nothing to say. Lorcan didn’t like it any more than his mother, but Queen Evelayn wasn’t the one who had started the war or instigated so much death and suffering. She was orphaned because of his father. How could she not let some of the hatred and anger she was sure to feel bleed into her dealings with them? She had no way of knowing how involved or uninvolved any of them had been in the war or the murders of her parents. Yes, she’d had her revenge when she’d killed his father, and by every right, he should have hated her now, too. But instead, he felt … pity. He felt bad for her.
Lothar decided to keep his peace, too, because he knew if there was something his mother and Lorcan didn’t feel for the new queen of éadrolan, it was pity.
And so it had continued for days and then weeks, with none of them speaking. Eating in silence when the guards brought them food, and lying on their cots in silence at night, pretending to sleep. But Lothar couldn’t shake the suspicion that somehow his mother and Lorcan were still planning … something. They’d always assumed he didn’t pay attention, that he was too distracted by his books to be of any use to them.
They were wrong.
He scented an unfamiliar Draíolon moments before there was a knock at the door, and then it opened to reveal a tall male with pale blond hair and bright green eyes. He was dressed like a distinguished member of the royal court, not a guard. Lorcan and Abarrane both rose from their cots, where they’d been lounging while Lothar paced.
“I come with an offer from Queen Evelayn. She sends her apologies that it has taken longer than she had hoped to come to a decision, but she finally reached an agreement with her council. They have consented to allow Lorcan to leave and travel to the Immortal Tree to regain his power if he will make a Blood Vow of peace before both courts, and if his brother, Lothar, and mother, Abarrane, remain here as a show of good faith between our two kingdoms and as guarantee of continued peace in Lachalonia.”
“Indefinitely? She wishes me to stay—”
Lorcan spoke over his mother’s screech, cutting her off, “You may tell your queen that we will think on her offer.”
The tall Light Draíolon bowed briefly and shut the door behind him with the inescapable sound of the lock scraping back into place.
The moment his scent was gone, the indignation smoothed off his mother’s face. Completely serene once more, she glanced at Lorcan, who met her gaze, his expression cold. And then she lay back down on her cot and closed her eyes.
Lothar stared at Lorcan until his brother finally turned to him.
“You’re not going to tell me, are you.” It wasn’t a question.
Lorcan didn’t even blink. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
Lothar inhaled deeply, letting his brother know he could scent his lie. But Lorcan merely turned his back to him and sat down on his cot, leaving Lothar to resume pacing.