“Father,” Lorcan said quietly.
The king jerked up, only just realizing they were there. Shock flittered through his eyes as he took in his son and the company of warriors he’d brought with him.
“Thought you might come. I hear your little princess has made quite an impression on the city. Heh.” Bolg grunted, grabbing at the poor serving girl’s arse as she scurried away. “She took out that blasted Ruin, and she helped our army push the Wood Court back into the tunnels.”
A wave of pride rippled through Lorcan’s heart. “It seems you underestimated her.”
Bolg grunted again. “And you. You’re harder to kill than you look.”
Lorcan froze, hands half-clenched by his sides. His fingers itched to draw his sword, but he held himself as still as a rat under the gaze of an owl.
“That’s right. No need to dance around it. You’re not loyal to me.” The High King’s beady eyes flicked toward Lorcan’s bare arm, scabbed over from where Reyna had dug the mark out of his skin. “I’ve known it for awhile.” His eyes flicked to Nollaig. “And neither are you. Traitors, the both of you. Guards. Take them. They’ll both be executed on the ‘morn.”
But the guards stayed rooted to the spot.
Bolg growled and stood from his throne before stumbling sideways half a step. Everyone watched him, silent. Shaking his head, he plopped right back down. “What’s the meaning of this? I said take them.”
“We will not be taking them,” Seg said with a steely glint in his granite eyes. “Prince Lorcan is our liege. No harm will come to him.”
Bolg stared, and then he let out a great snorting laugh that echoed off the lofted stone ceiling. “He’s a bloody bastard is what he is. And I’m done looking at his traitorous face. Guards, I said seize him. Obey the command of your High King!”
No one moved. No one even blinked.
When someone did finally step forward, it was Nollaig.
“You,” the king spat when he saw her. “I knew I never should have trusted you. You’re just like the rest of them. A liar. A traitor. A sneaky little thief.”
“You’re right,” she said in a dangerously calm voice, taking another step toward Bolg Rothach. “You never should have trusted me. You see, the shadow fae are not so different from the rest of the realms, Your Grace. The low fae of the Air Court don’t want to be ruled by a wicked, demented king, and neither do we. The only different between us and them is...well, we are brazen enough to end a king’s reign when he has not been kind to us.”
Nollaig whipped a dagger out from the depths of her cloak and launched it at the king. It landed with a sickening crunch in his throat. Lorcan winced, grinding his jaw as he watched the blood gurgle from his father’s lips. It only took moments for him to die. The wine goblet tumbled to the ground, cracking on the stone floor, just as the High King slumped in his seat, the tormented life dying in his eyes.
The warriors sprang into action, rushing forward and lifting him from the stone chair. Several more followed just behind, quickly wiping up the blood and the wine, scrubbing away the crimson as if it had never been there. None of them said a word. They simply cleaned and vanished. Only Segonax and Nollaig were left in the throne room when all was said and done.
Lorcan still hadn’t spoken. He did not quite know what to say. His father had just died, yet he felt nothing. Not angry. Not sad. But…not happy either. He just felt...empty. Ripped raw.
It had been a very long past few days. He needed Reyna.
“Well, Nollaig, we have finally done it, “Segonax announced with a weary sigh as he sagged against the wall, head in his hands. “It has taken us over ten damn years, but here we are.”
“A decade.” The cloaked fae shook her head. “If only we’d known then how long it would take, I fear we would have forgone the plot completely. I’m glad we didn’t, now that it is done. The realm will finally have a chance to heal.”
Lorcan’s frown deepened with every passing second. “I am going to need you two to explain to me exactly what you mean.”
Segonax tapped his finger against his chin, taking his time. Finally, he relented. “I suppose it does no good to hide it from you anymore. You’re the king now. We don’t want to start off on a path full of lies.”
“You knock me out and force me to come here, and now you speak in riddles?” Lorcan’s hands fisted. “What are you talking about, Segonax?”
“Nollaig and I...well, we were not as loyal to the former king as he thought. In the end, he seemed to realize that Nollaig was against him, but I daresay I got away with it right up until his dying breath. Otherwise, he never would have let me into the throne room today, especially not with the both of you.”
Lorcan clenched and unclenched his hands, staring in horrified awe. “It’s true then. You’ve been planning to kill the king for years.”
“Oh yes, but we needed a suitable replacement to take the throne in his stead. We were very lucky when we found a bastard who appeared to be a good male. Strong and steady, good with a sword. You’re a bit moody at times, but moody is better than mad.”
“Wait...you found me? I thought my father sought me out.”
“Your mother was never your father’s favorite. That was another one of his lies. In fact, I’m not entirely convinced he ever knew who she was.” Segonax’s granite eyes flickered with remorse. “I am sorry about that, Your Majesty. It was not our intention to hurt you. Your father could be very cruel.”
“What are you saying?” Lorcan demanded.
“It was not Bolg Rothach’s idea to bring you to the Shadow Court.”
Segonax’s words hit Lorcan like an iron fist. He stumbled back, mouth dropped wide. All this time, and he had not once questioned why his father decided to send for him. Lorcan had believed the king just wanted another plaything, a toy.
But Segonax had brought him to the Shadow Court. Lorcan did not know if that made it better or worse.
“And the mark?” Lorcan asked dangerously.
“That, unfortunately, was not our idea. Bolg was worried a bastard prince would someday try to kill him, and he wanted the mark to prevent you from doing him harm. It wasn’t until later that he decided to use it to make you spy on another court.”
Lorcan stared, trying—and failing—to grasp the full meaning of Segonax’s words. He had not been brought to this dreadful place because his father wanted to use him. Someone else had. Someone he had trusted.
Nollaig stepped forward. “We only did all this so that we might one day put a better ruler on his throne.”
He let out a bitter laugh. “And instead, you ended up with me. Someone with half his loyalty devoted to the Air Court. Someone in love with an ice princess.”
“We did worry that your father’s insistence on capturing your lover would prove to be the final nail in the coffin of our hopes. At first, you seemed very distracted by it all.” They exchanged a glance. “Of course, it also seems to have made you see just how much the realm needs a ruler like you. Instead of one like him.”
“I only see it that way because this entire time you’ve been plotting against me.”
“No, Lorcan,” Nollaig said with a ferocity in her voice. “We’ve been plotting for you.”