Lina pushed off the wall and placed another two gold coins in the owner’s hand. “Good.”

She left without waiting for Bri, the owner’s wide eyes tracking her as she walked away. Bri watched the way she threw back her shoulders and lifted her chin, knowing it was all a carefully constructed facade. This was the burden of Queens—choosing who lived and who died. Whether by official decree or paying off a ruffian, the choice was the same.

Bri followed silently, knowing she’d make the same choice. Meson could have been put in the stocks as a lesson, but never would she have allowed him to return to the people he hurt nor find others to replace them. She knew it was their lives or his, but that didn’t mean having to choose didn’t chip away at someone’s soul.

Lina’s voice echoed in her mind. My mistakes could kill them. Bri thought she could handle sending armies into battle, but things like this . . . bearing the burden of them alone seemed an impossible task. A begrudging respect grew in her as she watched that cloak wind back toward the alleyway. Lina feared not being a good enough Queen, and it was the exact reason she’d make an excellent one.

Chapter 14

Chapter Fourteen

The shrouds had come down, the white spring sunlight brightening the castle at last. Life was breathed back into the halls as the dreary darkness lifted. Bri had found herself spending the better part of the morning wandering the palace, learning it anew, appreciating its beauty—the warm reds and copper earth tones, domed roofs and beaded tapestries. The castle had a heartbeat, so distinct she could almost feel it under her fingertips. It was the first time in her life she felt saddened that she’d never gotten to know the place as a child. Something about the Western Court had a different kind of magic than the rest of Okrith.

Carys cleared her throat, pulling Bri’s attention back to the ceremony in front of them. They stood on the flat field outside the western wing of the palace. Eddies of wind blustered up from the cliff’s edge, whipping their hair in the breeze. A large pyre was perfectly constructed to hold up the weight of the body that lay atop it.

Holding her torch aloft, Lina stood alone in front of the pyre. Her bronze ceremonial robes flowed in the wind as the crowd watched her whispered prayers.

Bri nudged Carys with her shoulder and Carys elbowed her back—a silent conversation flowing between them. It was something they did often during these long, drawn-out ceremonies. How many times had they been forced to stand and listen to lengthy prayers and kingly diatribes? Such was the life of royal fae and the two of them were always circling the fringes of that world.