Page 129 of A Dance with the Fae Prince (Married to Magic 2)
Chapter 37
I’m too shockedto move for several seconds. I keep staring down, waiting for him to sprout wings and fly back up, waiting to see a Butcher dodging to the shadows to save their king. Or, waiting to see a man resembling Boltov somehow magically run off in the distance.
But nothing happens and my grip is going to give out if I wait any longer. I reach for the next window ledge, climbing until I pull myself over the broken glass and back into the room. Panting, I wrap my arms all the way around myself, reaching for my back.
That memory.
My memory?
I squeeze my eyes shut, trying to expunge it from my mind. No, no no no, a scared girl who still lives in me screams, don’t think about it. Push it down. It makes no sense. I’m tired. I was near death. I’m in a world that my human mind can barely comprehend. The memories retreat, slinking back into the depths they tried to surface from. That day was one of the worst days of my life, but it wasn’t that bad. It’s all in my head, as Joyce would say.
I push myself up off the ground and head back down through the passage and emerge into a much quieter main hall. The fighting has ended. The remaining Butchers have been rounded up and are ringed by familiar fae like captives of war.
Davien is with Vena in the center of the room. The fiery magic has faded from around him, but he still has a faintly glowing aura. His eyes meet mine.
“Katria.” My name sounds like pure bliss on his lips as he heaves a sigh of relief. He rushes over and scoops my face up with both his hands and, without warning, in front of everyone, kisses me square on the mouth. Just like that, the world vanishes for a blissful moment. There is only him, the feeling of his lips on mine, the way his breath tickles the hair by my ear—it’s all more perfect than I remember it. When he finally pulls away, I’m left stunned and wanting.
“Davien,” I whisper softly, my eyes darting around the room. “Everyone…”
“I don’t care.” He presses his forehead into mine. “Let them see. Let them all see that their king loves the woman who saved his kingdom.”
I shut my eyes as tightly as possible, wishing that this moment would never end. That the world was uncomplicated and I could remain by his side. But things are not simple. My soul is as murky as the shadows that usually surround the Butcher’s necks.
“That was not the fate we were dealt though,” I whisper only for him. “And your kingdom still needs to be saved.”
“We have won.” Davien pulls away and looks to the dais. His eyes widen as he no doubt realizes that Boltov isn’t where he was left. “What the—”
“Boltov is dead. I killed him.”
“You?” he breathes.
I tell him what transpired while they were fighting off the Butchers in the main hall. “…and then he fell.”
Davien releases me and looks over his shoulder. “Shaye, to me.” Shaye sprints over and Davien quickly summarizes what I just told him.
“I will lead a search party, Your Majesty. I will not rest until I have brought you his body.” She races out of the main hall.
“Before there are any more distractions, I think there is an important matter for you to attend to, Your Majesty,” Vena says, holding out the crown.
Davien turns to me. “I would like you to do it.”
“What? Me?” I glance between him and Vena. Boltov’s words about the crown are still fresh in my mind. “I don’t think—”
“There’s no one else I want to do this. The fae are saved because of you.” Davien takes my hands. “Please, if nothing else, for me.”
“All right,” I say weakly. Vena hands me the crown. I’ve never seen anything more beautiful. Even though it is made of glass, it’s warm to the touch and the most jagged-looking edges feel smooth. I see light shimmering from within, a similar haze to what was underneath the waters of the Lake of Anointing.
Davien kneels before me, looking up expectantly. I swallow thickly. Boltov was lying, surely. He was in a desperate position. Yet… This feels wrong; something’s not right. I push the thoughts from my mind. I hold the crown out over Davien’s waiting head.
“At long last,” Vena says softly. I lower the crown to Davien’s brow and release. “All hail—” Vena’s words catch in her throat as the crown careens off of Davien’s head, bouncing to the floor as we all stare in shock.
“What does this mean?” I hear Oren ask.
Davien is too stunned to say anything right away. He stares at the crown in disbelief, as though it has somehow betrayed him. I want to wrap him up, hide and console him. I want to scream at the crown for daring to make the man who has stolen my heart hurt in this way. I want to kill Boltov a second time for being right.
“It means…I am not the true heir,” Davien finally says.
“But the bloodlines…you were the last. By marriage, but…” Vena mumbles, hardly coherent. “We were certain…there is no other. And you have the power.”
