Page 118 of Fallen Nocturne

“Because something is wrong.” I run a hand through my hair. “The king I knew, the one who saved my life when I was a child, who raised me, trained me… he wouldn’t do this. He wouldn’t betray and sacrifice his best soldiers for no reason.”

“Maybe you didn’t know him as well as you thought,” she says sharply.

“Maybe.” I look at the concern written clearly on her face and something in my chest tightens. “But I suspect something else. An outside force influencing him.”

“The mistress,” Rhianelle says immediately. “My memory of the battle with her is patchy, but I can feel something is wrong with her.”

“So can I.” I think of Eirik’s letters, the sudden changes in his orders and the soldiers sent into battles they could not survive. “The king has always been ruthless, but he protected the Hunt above everything else. Now he is destroying his own commanders and abandoning fortresses we held for centuries.”

Rhianelle folds her arms around herself. “What do you know about the mistress?”

“Very little. Morgaine appeared at court a few years ago. I disliked her from the beginning. But she remained mostly in the background then. It was only recently that she began acting strange and making decisions in Eirik’s name.”

“No one questioned it?” Disbelief sharpens Rhianelle’s voice.

“Some did.” My jaw tightens. “They disappeared.”

Her face pales. “Then returning is exactly what she wants. Don’t go.”

“I have to,” I say, turning away. “I need to know what’s happening. Why he turned on us.”

“It’s too dangerous.” She catches my arm and forces me to stop. “You cannot walk knowingly into another trap.”

“If I ignore the summons, he will declare me a traitor.” I glance toward the city beyond the gardens. “Many members of the Wild Hunt still trust me. If I am branded a traitor, they will be ordered to hunt Dorcha and me across every kingdom.”

“Then remain here. Aelfheim can protect you.” Rhianelle steps closer, her fingers curling around mine. “I do not want you to leave.”

For a moment, I nearly agree. The golden string warms between us, offering everything I have wanted since the bond formed.

Safety. Belonging. Her.

But behind that longing, I see the faces of my soldiers. Theo. Glenn. Kieran. Alys. Every warrior still trapped beneath Eirik’s command.

“I cannot abandon my warriors and turn down this opportunity,” I say.

Her eyes close briefly, and another tear slips down her cheek.

I lift her hand to my lips, pressing a kiss to her knuckles. “Take care of yourself.”

She flinches. “Landon—”

I stop, turning to face her. “If the king is being influenced and this war is being orchestrated by something else, then maybe there’s a way to prevent it. Perhaps there is a way to save both our peoples.”

“It’s a trap,” she says desperately, shaking her head. “He tried to kill you once—”

“Then I’ll be ready this time.” I take her hand, squeezing gently. “I have to try, Rhianelle. I have to know the truth.”

“And if the truth is that he just wants you dead?” she asks.

I expect that possibility. I am not foolish enough to bring my warriors with me and place all of their lives in Eirik’s hands. I will enter Avalon alone, discover whether the pardon is genuine.

If he betrays me again, the Wild Hunt will see it. Highborn fae who have fought beside me for centuries will know their king has lost all reason. Many lesser fae and groundlings have already abandoned the war. The betrayal could fracture what remains of his army.

Either my warriors receive their pardon or Eirik exposes his madness to everyone still loyal to him.

I release her hand before the bond convinces me to stay. Dorcha lowers herself as I approach, sensing the urgency in me. I place one foot in the stirrup and pull myself into the saddle.

Rhianelle follows until she stands beside Dorcha.