Page 57 of A Trial of War
And just like that, the ground beneath me shifted.
Oh, gods, what fate did the Mother and Father orchestrate for us this time?
Chapter Twenty-Four
Daxton Aegaeon
I never felt at peace in Aelius.
The memories held in the prison cells beneath the keep and the nights I was forced to lie in Minaeve’s bed are scarred too deeply to feel anything but pure, unhinged fury.
This place should have been a second home. It was our mother’s heritage, her blood, her magic. Every spire and stone here had whispered her name once. But to me, Aelius had always felt like walking through the echo of someone else’s memory.
The city stretched beneath a storm-heavy sky, its streets slick with mist and moonlight. Towers spiraled upward like the bones of some ancient beast, their glass windows catching the dim glow of the enchanted torchlight. Somewhere in the distance, bells tolled the hour, the sound hollow and mournful, a symphony for ghosts that had never stopped singing.
When we entered through the gates, the palace wards brushed across my skin like the cool touch of a half-forgotten relative, familiar and foreign all at once.
Castor gave a low whistle beside me. “Still can’t decide if this place wants to welcome us or bury us alive.”
“It’s Aelius,” I said. “It does both.”
He shot me a look, half amused, half uneasy. Nyssa quietly studied the gates ahead, her midnight eyes reflecting the glint of the enchanted sconces. Even she seemed subdued here, her movements quieter, her usual grace weighted by the hush of the palace.
We passed through the great doors onto the landing, a cathedral of decorative marble and light. Veins of magic seemed to pulse faintly through the walls, tracing the runes of an empire that had once ruled the Inner Kingdom while the false queen wore the crown.
Up ahead, Rhett was already waiting at the base of the steps.
The High Fae looked immaculate, the embodiment of Aelius itself. His deep-set blue eyes were cunning—ever calculating and set under a mesh of midnight-black hair that fell over his brow, with a crescent moon birthmark peeking up along the collar of his tailored shirt.
The male carried more secrets than I cared to know, and I was grateful for his allegiance. Because of his bravery, we were all freed from Minaeve’s grasp. And still the male did not desire Seamus’s throne, insisting on only being a steward until his High Prince returned.
“My high king,” he said in greeting. “Welcome.”
I dipped my head in return. “Thank you, Rhett. I trust the high queen hasn’t caused you too much trouble since I’ve been gone.”
“She is a sparkling addition wherever she goes.”
I huffed a laugh under my breath. “Excellent.”
“Also, welcome, High Prince Castor, and—”
“High Princess Nyssa,” my brother cut in, formally introducing Nyssa as his wife for the first time.
A beam of pride stirred in my chest, bright despite the horror of this place.
Rhett inclined his head to Castor and Nyssa, his expression even, although his eyes sparked with keen interest. The male’s gifts suited him; he always loved learning new things.
“Congratulations are in order, then,” Rhett said, tilting his head to look them over. “A blessing bond sealed under war is rare. The gods must favor you both.”
“Or test us,” Castor said dryly.
Rhett’s mouth twitched, the closest thing to a true smile I’d ever seen the male allow. “Sometimes, those are the same thing.” His gaze fell back to me. “You returned sooner than I expected.”
“Not soon enough,” I said, anxious about leaving Skylar here alone. “Where are they?”
His expression sobered. “Below. The phoenix keeps watch.”
“Take us down.”
