Page 124 of A Dance with the Fae Prince (Married to Magic 2)
“Kneel before the true king of the fae,” the Butcher sneers, and strikes him behind his knees. Davien falls to the ground.
“This man-child is the last hope of the ‘mighty’ Aviness bloodline? This is the man who was to threaten me? Who was guarded for decades in the Natural World?” Boltov laughs, and the court laughs with him. “This pathetic creature thought he would be ordained by the ghosts of the old kings in the Lake of Anointing but lacks any true power.”
Boltov gives Davien a sharp kick underneath his jaw. One that would’ve sent Davien reeling were it not for the Butcher holding him in place by both of his arms. Blood dribbles from Davien’s mouth as he glares up at the king. He hasn’t seen me yet, which I suppose is a blessing.
“I suppose it must take a lack of true power in oneself to notice it in others,” Davien growls and spits in the king’s face.
“You uncultured cur,” Boltov almost purrs, running his claw down Davien’s cheek. “I will enjoy dismantling you, piece by piece.” Boltov glances over his shoulder. “Music, fitting for blood.”
The lead minstrel picks up his fiddle and hesitates, only for a breath. He draws a shrill note from the strings reminiscent of a distant scream. The drummer begins thumping a pulsing beat, unhasty, but determined. Horrible in how slow it is.
This is it. My chance. I lock eyes with Raph and nod as I pull the necklace from my throat, palming it in the hand I strum my lute with.
As the music picks up, I step forward. Eyes are on me as I approach. Enough that it draws Boltov and Davien’s attentions. Davien’s eyes widen slightly. I force a crazed grin across my lips so well that he’s startled.
Laughing, I twirl as I begin to strum my lute, frantic, mad. I stomp and look on eagerly. The chords I play are minor, intentionally dissonant on the off-beat to the fiddle. It’s not music, it’s horrid sound. Fitting of the look in Boltov’s eyes.
“Yes, yes!” Boltov laughs, rearing back a clawed hand. “We shall dance for his death!” The rest of the fae begin to laugh and spin as well as Boltov strikes Davien in the face. Blood spatters the floor.
My stomach churns and I keep playing. Davien is no longer looking at me. He’s hunched in the arms of the men holding him. Does he know what I’m doing? Can he see my feet? Please let him notice, I pray. In my periphery, I see Raph step forward, nerves causing the beating of his little drum to become frantic.
Everything is rising to a boiling point. Boltov’s attacks become more brutal. I keep spinning, drawing invisible shapes on the floor with my feet. They’re the same shapes I was making in the lake. The same symbols Davien and I reviewed for the abdication ritual. Hopefully, the charged start of that ritual is still within us. Waiting to be finished.
“Look upon him!” Boltov shouts. Everyone slows. I finish my movements, the necklace hot in my palm. “There is nothing special about this man. He is—”
“There might be nothing special about him, yet, but there certainly is about me,” I interrupt. Boltov spins in place. I hold up the necklace. Look at me, I say with my actions, look only at me. You failed to notice everything else I’m doing. I snarl at him, as if I, too, have wings and fangs. As if I can be as monstrous as any fae. “You want this, don’t you? This is what you need to become the true king of the fae, and not some pretend sovereign who lives in a castle stolen by his ancestors, ruling with nothing more than fractured power and fear.”
Boltov’s eyes widen slightly, and his mouth splits into a grin that exposes sharklike teeth. “You are the human.”
“And you are the last Boltov the fae will ever suffer.”
He takes my bait and lunges for me. I wait until he’s in motion; he’s too committed to change course when I release the necklace, allowing it to drop. A blur at my side whizzes past me before the pendant can hit the floor. Boltov can’t catch it, not when he’s already stretching his clawed hands toward me. Raph is so nimble and small, he’s faster than even the Butchers caught flat-footed.
I hear Hol shout. I’m focused only on Raph and Davien. The boy tosses the pendant. Davien reaches out as far as his chains will allow. His fingers close around the glass even as the Butchers are lunging for it.
“I abdicate!” I scream at the top of my lungs for all to hear. I scream so that it echoes in every recess of this ancient castle. So that my voice rattles the very foundation of this hill upon which the first fae was crowned. So that the rulers who still have their eyes on me might know my intention. “Rule in my stead; the kingdom is yours; the crown is yours; and the strength of the ancient kings is yours; rise King Davien Aviness.”
My words reverberate unnaturally in my ears. There’s a strange echo, a delay, as the world trembles beneath me. The invisible lines I drew on the floor glow in tandem with the pendant. The light becomes so bright that the floor cracks and the pendant shatters in Davien’s hands. The shackles turn to dust on him and he stands straighter than I’ve ever seen. His wounds are healed and his wings are complete, no longer in tatters. His eyes are the most brilliant shade of green that ever existed.
And they’re the last thing I see before Boltov finishes his swing for my throat.
