Reese kicked, but Keen was being a bastard and holding her tight. He carried her from the room of fighting Fae. “Let me go!”
“We must get you out of here,” he said, his voice strained with what sounded like fear and a bit of desperation. “After the outburst that got her daughter killed, Portia will have your head.”
“Theda is queen. Or she will be as soon as this is all over.”
“Theda is dead.”
That was what he’d said earlier. Reese squirmed some more to get out of his hold. “She can’t die. She’s Fae; Theda will heal.”
He set her on the ground in one of the corridors inside the palace and grabbed her shoulders. “Theda is dead. Fae are almost immortal, unless the injury or abuse is severe.”
Reese couldn’t read Keen’s feelings the way she could everyone else, but that didn’t mean he was without any signs of emotion. She’d heard the fear and strain in his voice, but now she saw it in his eyes—and that undid her.
“No, no, it can’t be…” She went numb.
She didn’t object when he grabbed her hand and urged her to run with him down the hallway, up two flights of stairs, and to the end of another hallway. And then they were rushing through a door and past flashing light—spinning and whirling through what could only be a portal.
Reese fell on her butt, and Keen would have landed on top of her if it hadn’t been for his quick reflexes that had him dodging her at the last moment.
They were outside. In the town she’d traveled to with her friends. The cobblestones, the gas lamps… “What are we doing here?”
“Hiding you.” At some point during their mad dash through the palace, Keen must have grabbed a cloak, because he threw it at her. “Put it on and do not show your face.”
The air outside was cool, and Reese shivered. She’d shaken for days when she first arrived in Tirnan. Keen had told her it was a part of her gaining her magic. This shaking wasn’t from magic, though; it was from adrenaline, from worry over her friends, and from the fear that what Keen had said was true. Theda was dead.
What would happen to Elena? Who would rule New Kingdom? Leaving Portia in charge was unacceptable. The woman was using the Fae code of honor against them.
Keen helped her with the cloak, pulling it down low over her eyes and covering her hair. He grabbed her hand. “You are my pet, should anyone ask.”
“Your pet?”
He stopped and turned to her, squeezing her hand. “Your position at the palace was precarious. Theda murdered Portia’s daughter tonight. Portia will have you all slain, do you understand? I need you to do as I say. I cannot fight you and save you at the same time.”
“I don’t need a man to save me.”
He sighed. “Here, in Tirnan, you do. But I must also help Elena. Will you cooperate so that I may help your friend?”
She hated that he was right. “Yes. Of course. Where are we going?”
“To Lucifer’s Larder.”
“The brothel? Is that why you want me to tell people I’m your pet?”
“Lucifer’s Larder has lodging. You will be safe there. No one will touch you if they believe you are with me.”
“But they saw me last time. They know I’m Halven.”
“It was not a Halven who killed Beatrice. By the time the details are worked out, I’ll have moved you somewhere safe.”
“There’s just one problem. Why are you helping me at all, when you should be helping Elena? Or, better yet, Portia? You know, that lady you’ve pledged to protect?”
“Elena has Derek. He will get her out of the kingdom.”
“And Portia? You’re supposed to be protecting your queen.”
He sidestepped a muddy puddle and guided her around it. “Portia isn’t in danger at the moment. The fighting has ceased.”
“How do you know?”
He cut her a look. “I’m listening.”
His ability.
“We’re here.” Keen opened the door to the tavern and ushered her across the room. It wasn’t as busy tonight. In fact, only a couple of patrons occupied the space. Which made sense, because Reese could swear she’d recognized several people fighting for Theda from her previous visit to the tavern.
A proprietress with light brown hair pulled into a tight bun came out from behind the counter. She was wearing a sturdy gown similar to what Reese’s seamstresses wore. Kind of conservative for a brothel owner.
“We need a room,” Keen said.
“Certainly.” The woman tapped a bell on the counter, and a young man scurried out. “Watch the customers,” she told him.
The proprietress led them to a back hallway and up a narrow staircase. She pulled out a large key ring and unlocked a door at the end. The room was simple, with a large bed, a small chest of drawers, and what looked like a toilet curtained off. “Will you be needing food?”
Reese shook her head.
“Nothing for now,” Keen said.
He gave the woman some sort of token or tip, Reese wasn’t sure, but as soon as the woman pocketed it, she quickly left the room and closed the door behind her.
Reese pulled off the cloak and covered her face with her hands. Everything had gone so horribly wrong.
She looked up at Keen, who was staring at her, concern on his face. “We have to help Elena. You need to go after her—find them. Help them with Theda…”
He walked over and very slowly pulled her into his arms. She closed her eyes and sank into his warmth. They shouldn’t be touching like this, but she didn’t care about should or should not right now.
Even if she scoffed at the notion of needing it, she always felt so safe and protected with Keen.
Why him? The one she could never have.
He pulled back. “I will find the others and bring them here.”
She nodded and watched him walk to the door.
“Lock it behind me.” He pointed to an extra key on a side table.
And then he was gone.
After about an hour of moderate silence, in which Reese paced the room and picked off the last of the red nail polish she’d applied weeks ago in the Earth realm, she heard crying. A muffled, keening crying—and multiple footsteps coming up the stairs.
She pressed her ear to the door. Voices of men, women—and not just any women. She heard Elena.
Reese threw open the door to find her friend walking beside a soldier…who was carrying her mother’s still body.
It was real. Theda was gone.
Elena looked up, tears streaming down her cheeks. The magnitude of sorrow pouring off her best friend had Reese’s chest aching.
She crossed the hall and wrapped Elena in her arms, squeezing her tightly. There was nothing she could say. Nothing she could do to make it better.
“This way.” Keen motioned to a room down from Reese’s. He must have gotten a second set of keys from the proprietress.
He unlocked the door, and the handsome soldier holding Theda strode inside and gently sat on the bed with Theda in his arms. Reese had seen the man fighting alongside Theda earlier. And the way he was looking at her now—the mix of emotions… He loved her. Reese wasn’t certain what kind of love, but she suspected the everlasting, unrequited kind.
The soldier brushed a lock of pale blond hair off Theda’s forehead. She was covered in blood—from the stab wounds in her torso.
Reese swallowed and turned to Derek. “What happened?”
Elena sat beside the soldier and leaned down, touching her forehead to her mother’s.
Camille had entered silently behind them and now faced the wall, her arms wrapped around her chest. Anguish, despair, confusion—all rolled off her the way they did everyone else in the room.
Derek stepped back, bringing Reese with him. “Theda saved Elena, but the girl she subdued… She didn’t survive. And neither did—” He looked at Theda.
Reese pressed a fist to her mouth. “It’s my fault. I read Beatrice’s emotions before she acted.” She turned to Elena. “I thought I was helping…”
Elena looked up, but she appeared to be in shock, her face expressionless.
Tears filled Reese’s eyes. “I’m so sorry.”
“I heard Beatrice’s thoughts at the last minute as well,” Keen said. “You and Theda saved Elena. Theda knew what she was risking by attacking Beatrice, and she chose to save her daughter.”
Derek rubbed his forehead. “The attack on Theda happened so fast, as if a switch had been flipped. Once the guards turned on her, she had no hope. Too fast—it all happened too fast. I couldn’t get to her in time.”
Elena bent over her mother, her arms trembling. But she glanced up, some of the daze cleared from her eyes. “It wasn’t your fault, Derek. Or yours, Reese.” She stared down at her mother and cradled the queen’s head. “There was always risk—to all of us.”
Reese walked over and sat beside Elena.
Elena looked up at the soldier holding her mother. “What do we do now?”
He finally pulled his gaze from Theda and looked out at the room. “We give her a proper burial.” His voice choked on the last word.
Elena leaned over her mother again and kissed her forehead, her hands shaking. After a moment, she stood and peered around the room, looking panicked. “Keen? I don’t know what to do. With my mother gone…”
Though Elena’s expression was panicked, her emotions were subdued. Depressed.
Keen was leaning his shoulder against the wall with his head bent. He looked at her now. “You know what to do, Elena.”
She swallowed and rubbed her eyes. “I can’t go through with it.”
He eased away from the wall. “I am loyal to her majesty, but you have a claim to the throne, just as Derek took over Old Kingdom once his father passed.”
Derek muttered an oath. “Are you saying Elena and I could be ruling opposing kingdoms?”
“Has it ever been any different?” Keen asked. “You were the Halven prince of Old Kingdom, and now you are king. Elena was a princess to the rightful queen, and now she is queen—should anything happen to Portia.”
Derek paced the room. “I’ll give up the kingdom—I’ll stay and help Elena.”
“Derek,” Elena said, “that’s crazy.”
“She must win it back first,” Keen pointed out. “And this is where I leave. I cannot help you and be true to the present queen.”
Reese had been listening to the back-and-forth, but at this she stood. “You’re leaving?”
His lips were stiff, and he wouldn’t look her in the eye. “An agreement has been arranged. As soon as I return to the palace, my engagement becomes official.”
“You said you didn’t want it. And after everything that’s happened tonight… Why?”
“The queen insists.” He gave her a hard, unfathomable look. “Without the betrothal, tensions between the kingdoms will rise. If I marry Radnor’s Fae daughter, the queen feels she can negotiate with Old Kingdom.”
“What do you mean, negotiate?” Derek said. “As far as I know, I’m still in charge. The only person she should be negotiating with is me.”
“Reese’s father is also of noble blood and next in line to the throne,” Keen said. “He will challenge your rule unless I marry his daughter. After losing Beatrice, Portia is bereaved—grasping. She believes I can convince you to renounce your claim to the throne and bring peace between the kingdoms.”
“You mean let you rule,” Derek said. “And if I don’t want to play nice with you or Portia?”
“I must kill you.”
“No!” Elena yelled. “You’re still my bodyguard.”
“I am not,” Keen said darkly. “I work for her majesty.”
“If that’s true, why are you helping us?” Elena asked bitterly.
He glanced at Reese, and so did everyone else. “It is time I leave.”
“I don’t understand.” Elena looked between Keen and Reese. “Who is he supposed to marry?”
Reese’s heart felt heavy as she waited for Keen to walk away. This time for good.
He would marry another. Wouldn’t be there for her anymore. She’d told him she didn’t need him to protect her, but she wanted him at her side. Wanted to argue with him, and kiss him, and…
Reese straightened her back, answering the question Keen wouldn’t. “He’s to marry my sister, Illa Radnor.”
