Page 103 of Fae Farewells

Alania smoothed the skirt of her dress. “You can’t prove this.”

“Their crowns prove it. This crown?” I pointed at my head. “Is the winter queen’s crown. Freya wears summer, Ruby wears autumn, and Tilly wears spring. Refute it all you want, but you knew. You’ve known since they were born. Controlling their power was one of the driving forces that led you to kill their mother.”

“I would say this is blasphemy.” She glanced around us. “But there is no one here to witness your words. No one will speak of the truths you spew. What will you do, daughter of kings? Tell your parents? I have two of those, too.”

“Do you?”

“Amelia King has been in my custody for decades. How did it feel to grow up without your dear mother?”

I dipped my head. “I think you meant for that to hurt, and it was a decent attempt. But you’ll have to try harder than that. I grew up just fine, a little on the murdery side, but I don’t get many complaints.”

“You resort to sarcasm to block your emotions.”

“Listen,” I drawled, humor thick in my tone. “The last thing you want is for me to get any kind of emotional. Sarcasm is fun, and it pisses you off because you have nothing worthwhile to say. You’re just wasting time while you wait for your soldiers to storm in and arrest me.”

“I can’t wait to kill you in front of your mother,” she whispered.

I misted across the throne room, stopping at the edge of her platform. She leaned back, a little too much shock on her face as I smirked.

“Torture is foreplay for me, so I hope you make it good,” I whispered back, leaning toward her. “Otherwise we’ll both be left wanting, because I don’t fake it for anyone.”

Vaughn stepped out of the shadows, a wry grin on his face. “I cannot believe you said that to her.”

“Really? I thought it was a good line.”

“Come to watch your mate be sentenced?” Alania asked my fae, her heart beating erratically. “I’ve taken the rest of her mates to the dungeon, where they await punishment as well.”

“You didn’t take anyone anywhere,” Vaughn commented. “That’s beneath you.”

“No one is beneath her,” I muttered to my fae. “That’s probably why she’s so cranky.”

She sat on her throne as she glared at me, then she grinned as a loud bang reverberated around us. “Kneel. It’s time to begin your trial.”

I snorted. “No.”

“You will—”

“Let me stop you right there.” I held my index finger up. “I won’t. Period.”

“You both will kneel before this night is over,” she threatened.

Vaughn smiled, charming and carefree, as he said, “Oh, I will kneel tonight, but not to you.”

A man in his mid-forties came into the throne room, sheathed sword at his side. His stride was purposeful until he saw us, then he stumbled a step or two.

My fae tipped his head. “Bowers.”

“Vaughn?”

“Surprised Radolphus?”

He tried to recover, claiming, “No, not at all.”

“I am, Ralph,” I snarked. “Big pharma fucked you so you came back home? Or was it Alric fucking you, so you came back to join the wicked queen’s harem?”

“I came to arrest—”

“Me? Shocking,” I drawled.