“Do not presume to tell us what to do, Lugid. You have no comprehension of the amount of magick it costs us to hold the HeartStone,” the Forever King snaps, abandoning the facade of the benevolent king.

“If the crown is too heavy to bear, sire,” Lugid says gently, “perhaps it is time to take it off.”

“You dare?!” The Forever King’s lined face grows cold. “I could have you beheaded for your words, Lugid.”

“I know that what I say is what you least want to hear, Your Majesty. However, I must speak. If you keep asking the blue-horned fauns to mine the magick stones in the Ocras Mountain, the monster will awaken, and the consequences of his wakening are not ones we will be able to endure.” The Forever King is silent and Lugid continues. “Nuala’s magick is strong, and she’s physically ready to take on the burden of the crown, sire. I beseech you to allow her to do so.”

“I do not have the time to continue listening to your nonsense, Lugid. Due to the friendship between us, I will pretend this conversation hasn’t happened. Do not let me hear you speak of this again.” The Forever King is gone with a swish of his robes. Lugid stays awhile in the empty throne room, the look on his face bleak, but after a moment he, too, fades.

Croi finds herself standing in the dark, her chest aching. The why of the Great Betrayal has almost been answered.

I’m afraid to learn more.

Instead of replying to her other self, Croi returns to the courtyard and looks at the two hallways she hasn’t explored. Footprints appear on the floor of the second hallway, clearly inviting her to follow. Before the fear can stop her, she steps into the hallway and, ignoring the frigid temperature in it, follows it down to the end, where it opens up to a courtyard filled with flowers and fountains, lit by the stars in the sky and the two glowing fae immersed in their argument.

“How could you, Father?” a fae woman screams at the Forever King, her features contorted with anguish. “They all died due to your avarice! All of them! Not a single blue horn remains in this world!”

“Calm yourself, Nuala. As my heir, you should understand that sometimes power requires sacrifice.” The Forever King reaches out a hand, perhaps to caress Nuala’s face, but she turns away, rejecting him.

“They are all dead, Father,” Nuala repeats, her shoulders shaking. “All the blue-horned fauns that ever existed, even those who were nowhere near Areed. They are all dead! Your actions have killed an entire species of kin, Father. Their deaths are not sacrifice; they were not martyred! They were murdered due to your greed and your refusal to accept that your time is over.”

“You are determined to oppose me in this?” the king asks, his voice so cold that Croi shivers.

“You should be punished for your actions.” Nuala sucks in a breath. “In fact, I will ensure that you are punished for them.”