Page 138 of Court of Ruins
What lay before her was...well, it was not Tairngire. In fact, it was anything but. The strange city stretched out before her like a hulking mass of black. There were hundreds of buildings, windows lit up with light. They were all made of black stone, roofs covered in black bricks. The sky was thick with a strange, eerie mist that obscured the sun, transforming it into a blob of bloody red.
Reyna’s heart thundered in her ears as she stumbled away from the window. It was barred, clearly meant to prevent an escape. She’d been taken captive. By who, though? And when? She and Lorcan had been ready to leave for their adventure when...
Wingallock hooted and settled onto her shoulder. Her heart soothed at once at the soft feel of his feathers on her face. Wherever she was, at least she had him.
“Tell the king she’s awake,” a voice mumbled on the other side of the door.
She whirled to face it, heart banging hard in her chest. A horrible realization washed over her as she took a quick glance around the room, searching for anything that could be turned into a weapon. Someone was coming.
But the furniture was sparse, if not luxurious. The room held a large bed covered in black silken sheets, along with a small chair that set in front of an unlit fireplace. A soft rug covered the floor beneath her feet. Other than that, the room had been emptied.
Soon, the door cracked open and a dozen warriors in scaly armor swept inside. They formed a circle around her, ushering her into the center of the floor. She could see none of their faces, all hidden by thick, grey helmets. Eyes wild, she clutched at her shirt. Wingallock’s talons tightened on her shoulder.
“Your Majesty,” one of the warriors barked.
A small fae stepped through the door, his form engulfed by black armor. A twisting crown of antlers squatted on top of his head, and a large silver medallion hung from his thick neck. Reyna knew at once who he was. This was the High King of the Shadow Court. And she had been taken prisoner by them.
He stepped into the door, flanked by two warriors, one of whom was a young, hollow-eyed female who wore an air of superiority far better than even the king. She stood beside him in her own set of grey scale armor, giving Reyna an appraising gaze.
“Princess Reyna of the Ice Court,” the High King said in a loud, commanding voice. “Welcome to the Shadow Court. I apologize your visit here is not under better circumstances.”
“What do you want with me?” Reyna asked. “Where’s Lorcan?”
“I realize that you are not a part of this court, but you will address my son by his title,” he replied.
Reyna blinked. “Your son?”
“Oh.” The High King’s eyes widened. “He did not tell you then.”
Blood roared through Reyna’s veins. Lorcan was...the High King’s son? Her head swam, her bones shook. She wanted to reach out to grab something to steady herself, but the only thing near her were the warriors. And she would not let them see just how much they had shaken her.
“No, he did not,” she said softly. “I supposeheis the reason I am here.”
It was all beginning to make horrible sense now. She remembered him acting strangely the night they’d planned to leave Tairngire, suddenly aloof and cold about their rescue of Thane. He’d wanted to toast to their adventure when he never had before. Reyna’s stomach twisted.
That was what had happened to her. She hadn’t fallen ill. He’d poisoned her, all to make her pliant enough to steal her away. And the scent of the sea. The rolling of the waves. He had sneaked her out of Tairngire on a boat.
Reyna needed to sit.
Tears threatened to fall from her eyes. Even when she’d discovered the truth about his shadow fae origin—or, perhaps, the half-truth was really what it had been all along—she had trusted him. More than she had trusted almost everyone else in the world. She had felt for him. It had been real. And she’d thought he’d felt the same for her.
But it had been a lie. In a war-torn land, love was always a lie.
“Do not be angry at my son,” the High King said, clearly reading the turmoil on her face. “I ordered him to do this. He did not have much of a choice.”
But hedidhave achoice. There was always a choice, even if it was a difficult one.
“What do you want with me?” Reyna asked through gritted teeth. “Why am I here?”
“My champion here,” he said, motioning to the strange, hollow-eyed warrior beside him, “has had a vision that you will be important in the coming war. She does not know why or how as of yet, but she is insistent that you remain our captive.”
Reyna shook her head. “You did all this because of a vision?”
It sounded absurd. And yet, the High King looked remarkably serious.
“Yes.” He nodded toward the warriors that surrounded her. “You will be provided for, of course, though heavily guarded. You may have all the food you’d like, and you may request entertainment. And, of course, your familiar may remain with you. You can thank Lorcan for that one. As long as you do not attempt to escape, there will be no need for you to live in the dungeons.”
“And then what?” Reyna demanded. “You cannot just keep me locked in here forever. What do you plan to do with me?”
The High King of the Shadow Court smiled. “We will do whatever my champion commands.”
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