That was not possible. He would not risk incurring my wrath. It had been zealots, ordinary citizens who believed my mate was a threat to the future of the Fae. Zadok was mistaken, clearly clutching at straws for an answer, for someone to pin the blame on. An easy target. But… the expression on his face said otherwise…

It wasn’t uncertain or even outraged anymore. It was beaten and hollow, as if he’d already surrendered to an outcome he truly believed in.

The acrid stench of shame swarmed the air.

“How can you be sure?” I asked, though the answer was obvious.

To me, at least.

“Because I’m the one who created it,” he admitted, and it was as if the whole world had tilted on its axis. I didn’t know how to react, could hardly even muster up a breath, or anything that would show I had heard him.

My father truly was the culprit; the certainty was deafening, hitting me like falling bricks. Awareness swept through me next. He’d known for longer than we had who Luca was. He’d known we would come here, had counted on it. There was no other explanation for the cruel poetry of a son being poisoned by his own father’s creation.

The king wanted to kill my mate.

“You have to understand, I had no choice,” Zadok babbled, panic setting in, and whatever mask he had donned before began crumbling under the pressure. “It was one of his many tests to prove my loyalty, forcing me to go against my instincts and show I would do anything he asked. He made me demonstrate it before allowing me to lock it away, where I naively thought it would stay. It’s designed to make the victim believe they’re fine until the moment they’re not, and by that time it’s… it’s too late.”

Too late.

I wasn’t really listening, but I heard the words.

I didn’t understand what he meant. Too late for what?

“If it was caught early, my magic would have drawn it out, but it’s lodged too far in his bloodstream.” The mage began tearing at his hair, pacing, speaking nonsense. The scent of his anxiety was cloying, his rabbit heartbeat like a drum in my ears. I could barely hear what he was saying. “It’s all my fault. I did this. I-I killed my own son, what kind of monster…”

I tuned him out.

It didn’t matter who was to blame. We were wasting time. My mate was dying and he needed to be saved. Nothing else mattered. He had to be healed.

“Try again,” I said flatly, staring at the wound on Luca’s belly as it returned to its festering state. It was enough to snap Zadok out of his stupor.

“Your Highness, I⁠—”

The glare I sent him made him gulp. “Try. Again.”