Page 2 of A Trial of War
“Taran,” my mother cooed, placing a hand on my father’s arm and guiding his gaze toward me. “Do not allow Dawn’s sacrifice for our people to be devoured in rage. Let the healers prepare a burial before you act against the shifters. Let us put your sister to rest and grieve properly.”
For once, my father’s temper did not soften at my mother’s request.
Rising to his feet, the king of the human lands turned to Istar. “Track them down and kill them all. Dispatch the mage, Devland, with his hunters and have him unleash his creations into their world.”
“What is the reason for this summons?” My father’s voice rang out, bringing me back to the present.
Yes, why indeed? It was late, far later than proper to summon the king and heir from sleep. And gods, I was exhausted. I was more of a morning bird than a night owl.
Rising from my throne, I stood beside my father, offering him my arm so he could rise from his seat. Showing those gathered in this hour that we were a united force. That the crown was strong.
“Your Majesty,” Istar said with a low bow before turning to me. “Princess—”
“Your soon-to-bequeen,” myfather cut in.
My mother’s passing during childbirth, along with my infant brother, hardened my father’s heart. However, he was able to show me glimpses of kindness in my upbringing, proclaiming me his heir.
“Ahh, yes, with the coronation in only a few weeks’ time,” Istar said with a smile I didn’t dare trust. “What a delight to have such a strong queen looking after us.”
It was common for our people to have a former ruler abdicate to their heir before they passed into the afterlife. Staying as an advisor and helping the new ruler transition into the role. I was grateful for my father’s guidance and support.
“A responsibility I’m honored to uphold,” I said, keeping eye contact with Istar as I stood composed at my father’s side.
It was rare for a woman to rule, but I dedicated myself to caring for my people’s needs. I made frequent trips into the city to ensure they had enough food, medicine, and supplies. Listening to their concerns with an open heart and providing a pair of working hands to help when needed.
Their love ensured my reign. A precious gift I swore to never take for granted.
“Yes,” Istar said, righting his posture before granting me a formal show of respect.
I did not find joy in forcing my subjects to grovel before me, but reminding Istar of his place was important. He always sought power greater than his station. Not in an obvious proclamation, but in subtle ways, like his influence of the hunters and mages.
“Again,” King Taran spoke to the room, “why have you summoned an audience with us?”
“She’s here.”
My father’s grip on my arm tightened.
“She? Your—”
Istar’s smile was cold. “Yes, Your Majesty.”
“Bring her in!” My father released my arm and stepped forward, his hazel eyes widening as his crown shifted against the dark blond hair on his brow.
“Of course.” Istar’s smile made the hairs on the back of my neck stand straight. “I formally present my twin sister, Minaeve.”
My gaze drifted toward the double doors at the far end of the throne room as they swung open, seeing a beautiful woman I had known as the High Fae queen waltz through with a horde of High Fae warriors in her wake. I remembered her from our meeting with the shifter alpha before the start of the most recent trials.
Only now, she didn’t hold the magical glow she once did, and her ears were—
Gods above, she was human!
“Bless the dark,” Minaeve whispered in greeting to Istar.
“Banish the light,” he answered with a bow, extending his arm.
A chill swept through the throne room, intense and sudden. Everything that once held warmth or joy dimmed, as shifting shadows seemed to cling to her presence.
Behind Minaeve, a female fae with short brown hair held a chain tethered to her stump of a missing hand, leadingto a male High Fae at her side. The shackles at his wrist matched a collar around his neck. He floated like a ghost beside her, hair the color of spun gold, eyes bright like the morning forest—but also hollow. Regret and despair clung to him like a suffocating storm cloud, seeping from every shattered fragment of his being.
