The War of Two Queens (Blood And Ash Series Book 4)
The War of Two Queens: Chapter 39

We descended the hill to Padonia, flanked by the dozens of wolven who kept pace along the narrow road and had even branched out farther, into the Wisteria Woods. Netta and several others had already returned to town. Horns sounded as we cleared the thickest of the trees, and the valley that Padonia rested in opened before us.

A sea of white tents sat at the edge of the River of Rhain and at the foot of the Rise, where— My godsdamn breath snagged in my chest.

Banners.

Gold and white banners rippled from the battlements atop the Rise, each one bearing the Atlantian Crest—the one Poppy had chosen with the sword and arrow fixed in the center of the sun at equal lengths.

Gods.

She’d done it.

Changed the centuries-old crest. Showing the kingdom and the realm that there was a balance of power between the King and Queen, no matter the fact that she was so much more powerful than I.

Seeing it was a punch of unexpected emotion, straight to the chest. I tightened my hold on Poppy, dipping my head. “You’re fucking perfect,” I rasped in her ear.

She turned her head slightly, her brows puckering. “What for?” sᴇaʀᴄh thᴇ Find_Nøvel.ɴet website on Gøøglᴇ to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

“Everything,” I told her, blinking back dampness. “Everything.”

Poppy looked to the Rise. “The banners,” she whispered. “You like them?”

“I cannot wait to show you how much I fucking love them.” I nipped at her ear, drawing a soft gasp from her.

Her face flushed, but the sharp, sudden rise of her arousal told me she couldn’t wait for me to show her either.

I straightened, refocusing on the Rise itself. Branches of the nearby wisteria trees had climbed the structure, pressing into the stone and smothering the Rise in the lavender-colored limbs.

“Well, that’s a problem,” I murmured. “The wisteria trees.”

“They’re beautiful,” Poppy whispered. “It’s the most beautiful Rise I’ve ever seen.”

“It is, but you’re not going to like what I’m about to say,” I replied.

She sighed. “I think I know what you’re going to say. The trees need to be cut back.”

A faint grin appeared. “They need to be pulled out. Should’ve been done long before it got to this point. It’s likely already weakened the Rise.”

“It has,” Emil confirmed from where he rode slightly ahead, Kieran trailing between us as Naill rode to our left. “The trees have breached the eastern walls in some areas.”

“Well, the Ascended have never been known for their upkeep of infrastructure,” Poppy murmured. “Speaking of the Ascended, what of the Royals who oversaw Padonia?”

“They’d abandoned the city before our arrival,” Emil answered with a snort of disgust. “Just as they did in Whitebridge—”

“And Three Rivers,” Malik spoke, breaking his self-imposed silence. “Most of the Royals had fled to Carsodonia. They have been arriving since Poppy relieved Jalara of his head.”

Naill’s gaze cut to him. “Yeah, well, the Ascended didn’t simply flee Whitebridge and Padonia.”

Dread took root. “What did they do?”

“It wasn’t like Oak Ambler. They left a graveyard behind in Whitebridge.” Naill looked away, his jaw working. “Like they did in the northern lands of Pompay.”

“Oh, gods,” Poppy uttered, stiffening. “Was there…?”

“No mortal—adult or child—was left alive in Whitebridge,” Perry confirmed, swallowing thickly as the dread burned to the ground in a wave of fury. “Thousands were dead and had already turned. We lost some wolven and soldiers. There were just too many Craven.”

Poppy’s head lowered as she leaned into me. I wished there was something I could say, but for something like this, there was nothing. Absolutely nothing.

“They did the same in Padonia, but the people here fought back,” Naill continued, and her head lifted. “A lot of mortals died, but it wasn’t as bad as it was in Whitebridge. They took out a few of the Ascended in the process.”

“What of Three Rivers?” I asked, pushing the rage down.

“The Ascended there fled but left the mortals alive,” Emil said. “Not sure why. Maybe those ruling there were different than the others. I don’t know.”

“Do you?” I demanded of Malik.

He’d gone pale as he stared ahead. “I didn’t know that’d happened in Whitebridge or here,” he said hoarsely. “But I’ve seen Dravan at Court—he’s the Duke of Three Rivers. Keeps to himself. Don’t know much about him.”

“But you do know him?” Naill asked, and when Malik nodded, his eyes narrowed. “Exactly how complicated have things been for you, Prince Malik?”

“That is a rather long story,” I interrupted as a dark shadow crossed the road, stirring the tops of the wisteria trees as we rounded the bend. “That will have to wait.”

The gates of the Rise came into full view, but it was what flew above us that had garnered my attention.

All I saw through the cloud cover was a flash of smoky gray before the shadow fell over the bridge and tents. My jaw loosened as a creature as large as Setti swooped, touching down on its hind legs upon the Rise, its curved horns glistening in the streaks of sun that had broken through the clouds.

The draken made a soft trilling sound that sent a wave of goosebumps over my flesh.

“Meyaah Liessa?” Reaver said, having slowed his horse. “If you have no more immediate need of me…?”

“No.” Poppy smiled slightly. “You can do as you please.”

The draken bowed his head and then dismounted, handing the reins to Perry. He quickly disappeared into the woods.

“That’s Nithe,” Poppy said, gesturing to the gray draken on the Rise.

All I could do was nod. Because, my gods, I couldn’t believe I was actually looking upon a draken again.

Two more shadows fell overhead as we reached the bridge. A green one that was a little larger than Nithe, and a third slightly smaller one.

“The greenish one is Aurelia,” Poppy added. “The brownish-black one is Thad.”

I nodded again as wings the length of their bodies spread out wide, slowing their descent. They came down on either side of the gate. Thick claws dug into the top of the Rise, shaking the wisteria limbs as their long necks stretched out. Their heads lifted to the sky, the row of horns and the frills around their necks vibrating as their staggering call echoed through the valley.

The call was answered from the woods. Our gazes snapped up as an even larger shadow fell over us. My eyes widened upon the sight of a purplish-black draken crossing over the tents and the Rise.

“And that’s Reaver,” Poppy said.

“Yeah,” I muttered, blinking slowly. Reaver was nearly twice the size of a warhorse, but he glided soundlessly.

The other three draken took flight, lifting from the Rise in a powerful surge of wings that sent the air rippling through the valley. They joined Reaver as they flew over Padonia. The sight of them was something I’d never thought to witness as I watched them disappear into the horizon while we crossed the bridge, joined by the wolven who’d entered the woods. They flooded the pathway to the gates as soldiers drifted out from among the tents.

I drew our horse closer to Malik’s. He stared forward, as rigid as the dead. As Emil and the others rode past, the soldiers caught sight of Malik—of Poppy and me, and then the sound came.

Shouts erupted. Golden Atlantian swords were thrust into the air and banged off shields—shields engraved with the new Atlantian Crest. They lowered in a wave as we rode past, the soldiers dropping to their knees, thumping hands and hilts off the ground.

Poppy squirmed into me as the cheers continued, and the gates opened. She wasn’t used to the response. Hell, I never really got used to it, but this was different.

This was how a Queen and King were greeted.

I found her hand, closing mine around it as we rode between the two branches of the River of Rhain and through the gates. The shouts continued inside the Rise, where soldiers were camped near the entrance.

And still, the sound followed even as we reached the fields of crops, and mortals came out from the stalks of corn, lifting their scythes and cheering. The mortals cheered.

I leaned into Poppy. “Was it like this in Oak Ambler or Massene?”

Poppy’s hold was a death grip. “No.” She took in a trembling breath. Her smile was just as shaky as Kieran drew closer to us, his ears perked. “This is…it’s a lot.”

My hold tightened on her as we rode down the road, past the cluster of homes and businesses where mortals streamed into the streets, and others stopped where they were on sidewalks, bowing with their hands over their hearts and palms to the ground.

Emil looked over his shoulder at Poppy. “Your plan worked, by the way. They heard about what we did in Massene and Oak Ambler before we even reached Three Rivers. They knew we didn’t come to conquer. The same here.”

The smile on Poppy’s face was steadier now. “It was our plan,” she said. “And everyone who followed. You. Vonetta. All of you.”

Emil smiled, ducking his chin as he faced forward, the recognition warming his cheeks.

Pride lifted my chin even higher. She’d been so afraid of taking the Crown. Of not being a good Queen because she believed she wasn’t ready, trained, or worldly enough. And yet, she knew that she had played a role in this—a major role—but not all of the roles.

Wisteria trees returned, lining the road, and the sound of rushing water followed us to the manor in the center of the town. The woods had even pressed in here, leaving the interior Rise barely visible.

Larger tents were positioned around the fortress wall and inside the courtyard. I looked ahead, my heart becoming a knot as several generals stood at the entrance to the manor.

A handful of younger Atlantians rushed us with wide eyes, bowing hastily as we dismounted. They began rounding up the horses as Netta returned, striding past the generals. She wasn’t alone. A mortal I hadn’t seen since Oak Ambler followed—one who looked vastly different with her white hair pulled back from her face. A strange sensation settled in my chest as I eyed Tawny.

Poppy stepped around me, going to Netta and Tawny. The mortal reached Poppy first, embracing her, and I tensed for no good reason other than…

Kieran’s gaze caught mine. He raised his brows. He’d warned me that the mortal didn’t feel right. It wasn’t exactly something bad. Just different. A sensation I couldn’t place.

“How have you been?” Poppy asked, clasping Tawny’s hands. “You feel warmer.”

“A little.” Tawny smiled. “Probably because Vonetta has me being all active and stuff.”

Poppy arched her brow at Netta, who grinned. “Gianna and I have been teaching her how to fight. She’s a quick learner.”

“Only because of what Poppy has taught me,” Tawny said.

“I only taught you to stick the sharp end into something,” Poppy amended.

Tawny grinned, letting go of Poppy’s hand. “Hey, if that is more than half the knowledge required, I’ve learned.”

I relaxed as Poppy turned to Netta. “I wish to have another hug, one where we’re both on two legs.”

Laughing, Netta obliged as Delano stayed close to Poppy. “I’ve missed you,” Poppy said, pulling back. “You’ve been well? No injuries? Are you—?”

“I’m okay.” Netta clasped her shoulders. “We’re all okay.”

“Because of you,” Poppy insisted. “You’ve led the armies spectacularly.”

“I had help.”

“Namely, me.” Emil rounded the horses.

Shaking my head, I handed the reins to a steward. “Setti? Is he here?”

“Yes, Your Majesty,” the young male answered. “Given nothing but the freshest hay and feed as he’s awaited your return.”

“Thank you.”

I turned to find Tawny standing not too far from me. Damn. Her eyes… They were leached of all color. “I’m glad to see you up and moving about.”

She eyed me as bluntly as I had done with her. “And I’m glad to see that according to everyone I’ve asked, you love Poppy just as fiercely as she loves you, and I don’t have to punch you for lying to her.”

Poppy whipped around. “Tawny.”

“And for kidnapping her,” she tacked on.

“Tawny.” Poppy hurried over to us as Netta laughed.

“What?” The mortal who felt like something else crossed her arms. “I’m just pointing out that everyone—”

“And she did ask everyone,” Emil chimed in.

“Said you were utterly devoted to Poppy,” Tawny finished.

“That is not what you’re pointing out,” Poppy countered.

Fighting a grin, I inclined my head. “If you feel as if you still need to punch me, I won’t stop you.”

Poppy shot me a look.

Her friend simply studied me as if she were attempting to determine if I was worthy of such effort. “I’ll keep that in mind for later.”

“No, you will not,” Poppy said. “You can’t go around punching the King.”

“Someone forgot to tell you that,” Kieran replied, brushing past Poppy.

“You punch him?” Tawny asked, blinking.

“No. Not really.” Poppy’s cheeks turned red.

“She has stabbed me, though.” I took Poppy’s hand. “In the chest.”

“Oh, my gods,” Poppy snapped as Tawny’s eyes went wide. “You really need to stop telling people that.”

“But I deserved it,” I added, my smile fading as I turned to the entrance and saw that Hisa had joined the generals. It was who walked with her that drew my attention, though. My father. Tension crept into my shoulders as I looked to see Malik dismounting several feet away. I turned to Naill and spoke, my voice low. “I want you and Emil to keep an eye on Malik.”

Naill nodded. “Done.”

Keeping Poppy’s hand in mine and Kieran at my side with Netta with Delano at hers, I started toward my father. Aware that Malik had fallen in step behind me, I braced myself for several rounds of awkward reunions.

I recognized the generals before me. Lizeth Damron stood next to Perry’s father, who sported a rather impressive beard. My stare fixed on Aylard, the general Poppy had warned me about, as they lowered to their knees.

“La’Sere remained at Three Rivers,” Netta informed us. “Murin at Whitebridge.”

“Have you had any issues with them?” Poppy asked as Tawny trailed behind Netta. “Aylard?”

“Nothing we haven’t been able to handle,” she shared as the generals rose and stepped aside.

My gaze locked with my father’s, and just like that, I froze, unable to go any farther. He came down a step. He looked older than I remembered—the lines at the corners of his eyes deeper, the brackets around his mouth now grooves. His armor creaked as he lowered himself to one knee, bowing.

“You may rise.” It was Poppy who gave the softly spoken order I’d once taught her since I, apparently, had forgotten how to fucking speak.

I still hadn’t moved as my father rose, his golden eyes never straying from mine. “Cas.”

At once, I was a small boy, years away from his Culling, shaken with the need to run and take his outstretched hand. But I was rooted to where I stood.

Poppy squeezed my hand, reminding me that we were not alone. Eyes were on us, many belonging to those who had no idea that their former King and Queen had known who the Blood Queen really was.

A tremor ran through me as I released Poppy’s hand and reached for my father’s. He clasped my arm, his eyes bright as he pulled me in for a tight embrace. I felt my father, who had always been larger than life and stronger than anyone I knew, shake. My eyes closed, and I shook, too. Anger crashed into love, and all I knew in that moment was that this wasn’t the time to demand answers from him. Accountability would come, but it was not the kind that required an audience. It was not the kind that needed to be owned when we were about to end this war with the Blood Crown.

“I didn’t want her to go,” my father said, his words muffled. “I demanded that she stay. She put me in my place really quick.”

A thick laugh rattled me. “I bet she did.”

“And I’m glad she did.” His embrace tightened, and then he said, even lower, “I know there’s a lot we need to discuss.”

“There is.” Swallowing, I stepped back, and Poppy’s hand was there when I reached for it. “But it will have to wait.”

He nodded, finally lifting his gaze to Poppy. He began to speak to her, but his attention strayed beyond us to his eldest. He paled as if he’d seen a wraith, and Malik…he wasn’t looking at our father at all.

Our father swallowed hard and moved to step forward. “Malik,” he said roughly, and that sound, it broke a little of the hardness that had built in my chest. Our father sounded like a man looking upon a child that had died.

Malik stared at the wisterias growing along the manor, his face impassive. “It’s good to see you, Father,” he said flatly. His voice empty. “You look well.”

Our father stiffened for several seconds and then became a man on a battlefield, staring at the one who’d just struck him down. “As do you, son,” he replied in a tone as vacant as Malik’s had been. That muscle ticked in his temple, the only sign that he felt anything at all. The same moved in Malik’s. Our father cleared his throat. “Food and drink are being prepared.” He turned stiffly to us. “I imagine there is much to speak about.”

“There is,” I said, looking at our Queen as she curled herself into my arm. “There’s a war to be ended.”

My father stared at my left hand as we filled him and the generals in on what had occurred in Carsodonia and Isbeth’s demands while we ate the roasted meat and drank the rich ale.

He tried to hide that he saw what had been done to my hand. So did the others. I thought that it might make things more comfortable for them if I kept it hidden, but the absent finger was a part of me now. They needed to get used to it. So, I kept my hand on the table, visible to all.

“What in the world could the Blood Queen want with Malec?” Sven asked.

Poppy wiggled a bit in my lap as she stared at the table, her finger stilling over the cut in the wood she’d been idly tracing. I’d snatched her when she returned from making use of a nearby privy, pulling her into my lap. Probably not the most appropriate seating arrangement for such a conversation, but I couldn’t care less about what the others thought. I wanted her there. Needed her as close to me as possible. The feel of her kept me grounded and gave me strength.

And I just liked the curve of her ass in my lap.

Seated to my left, Kieran took a drink of his ale, his eyes widening slightly above the rim of his cup. My gaze briefly flickered to where Malik sat between Emil and Naill. Knowing that the generals present only knew the Blood Queen as Ileana, it really limited what we could say. Malik hadn’t spoken at any point. Hadn’t even glanced up from the tankard of ale he kept refilling. Not until Sven had asked his question. Now, he stared at our father.

Our father was also doing the table-stare thing as he picked up his tankard and took a hefty drink. He exhaled roughly, lifting his gaze to Malik and then me. “The Blood Queen’s real name is Isbeth.”

Surprise rippled through me as Poppy’s head snapped up. The generals went silent in their shock. I hadn’t expected him to admit that. One glance at my brother told me that he hadn’t either. That same glance also told me that he was thoroughly enjoying our father’s discomfort. Malik smirked.

Lord Sven was the first to recover, sitting back in his chair. “Surely, you’re not referencing the Isbeth we all know.”

“Yes, it’s the Isbeth you are all familiar with,” Father continued with a heavy breath. “Malec’s mistress.”

“And the first vampry,” Aylard said.

“She wasn’t that.” Father looked at the Atlantian general. “She was never a vampry. Malec Ascended her, but a god cannot make a vampry. A god makes something else entirely.”

“Isbeth is a demis,” Poppy spoke, looking up. “A false god, but a god in all the ways that count. She has masqueraded as an Ascended this entire time, and not many of the Ascended even know what she truly is.”

Aylard faced Poppy. “But you did this whole time? You knew and you didn’t tell us?” Incredulity crept into his tone as Poppy nodded. The hollows of his cheeks flushed with anger. “How could you keep such information from us?”

Not a single part of me liked his tone. “That information wasn’t necessary for you to know until it was,” I said, before Poppy could. “But your shock and anger are misplaced. It is not your Queen you should be demanding answers from.”

Aylard stiffened, the flush deepening.

“My son speaks the truth. It is I and Eloana who bear all responsibility. We kept the truth of her identity hidden from most,” my father replied. “Our Queen could’ve revealed who the Blood Queen was at any time, but I believe she did not do so out of respect for us.” His gaze met mine. “Respect that neither Eloana nor I believe we have earned.”

I looked away, inhaling deeply.

Sven shook his head in disbelief. “You kept this a secret for years—hundreds of years.”

Father nodded.

“This kind of information is imperative,” Aylard continued after clearing his throat. “It changes what we know about the Blood Crown. It’s not just power they want.”

Sven nodded. “It’s revenge.”

Emil let out a low, muffled whistle from Kieran’s other side. “This is awkward,” he murmured.

I had to agree with him.

“And whether or not our Queen kept this information from us due to respect or not is irrelevant. No offense meant, Your Majesties,” Aylard said. Slowly, my attention shifted back to him. My hand resting on Poppy’s hip stilled. “You knew she was virtually a god and chose to keep us in the dark while you planned to send our armies to deal with her? That is something we needed to know.”

Poppy straightened. “I will deal with Isbeth. None of our armies will.”

“That’s beside the point!” Aylard exclaimed.  “You have no right—”

“Careful,” I warned.

Kieran lowered his glass to the table as he fixed his stare on the Atlantian general. “I have a feeling that things are about to get more awkward,” he said under his breath to Emil.

Emil snorted.

“I would suggest you think very long and hard about what you believe you have the right to say to my Queen.” I held the Atlantian’s gaze. “Before you speak again. Or you will discover fairly quickly how your King responds when you offend your Queen. Fair warning, it will likely be the last thing you do for quite some time.”

Aylard’s complexion became mottled as he looked away, his posture unnaturally stiff.

“All of you are right. And you’re also wrong,” I said, after I was sure that Aylard had gotten my message. “It does change what we know. It changes the history of our kingdom. But it doesn’t change the future. The Blood Crown still needs to be destroyed, and the war ended. That is what we need to be focusing on now. That is all.”

Across from us, the wolven general leaned into Hisa, whispering, and then looked at Father. “Agreed,” Damron said. “So, I think we all know why she wants Malec.”

“We do, and we don’t,” Poppy said as I gently squeezed her hip. “Obviously, there are personal reasons. She still loves him, but she also believes that he will be able to give her what she wants.”

“Atlantia?” Damron figured.

“The destruction of Atlantia,” Poppy corrected softly. Low curses followed. “She believes that he will be able to remake the realms as one. That is her ultimate plan.”

Father’s brows shot up. “There’s no way he would be of any assistance to her.” He looked to Poppy. “We know that he cannot be in a good state.”

“We do.” Poppy tucked a stray piece of hair back from her face. “That’s the part that doesn’t make sense. But you remember what Framont said—the Priest in Oak Ambler? We were right about who he believed the True King to be. It’s Malec. But what we don’t know is how or why Isbeth thinks he will be able to do anything for her.”

As Poppy spoke, I watched Malik for any hint that he would bring up the prophecy or any of the parts about Poppy being the Harbinger. He didn’t. Yet.

“But he would be able to recover eventually,” Vonetta said from where she sat, the chair Poppy had sat in empty between us. “Wouldn’t he?”

Father nodded. “He would need to feed a lot, and I imagine it would take time. At that point, even once he recovered, there’s no telling what mental state he’d be in or what he might do.”

I sent Naill a curt nod, and he rose, along with Emil. They quietly nudged Malik from his seat, escorting him from the chamber. Malik may have agreed to aid us in defeating the Blood Crown, and he may already know what we planned when we returned with Malec, but he didn’t need to know any of the details. I trusted him to a point, but I wasn’t a fool.

“But we won’t allow that time to transpire,” I informed them once Malik was gone. Our father’s jaw had hardened with Malik’s departure, but he remained quiet. “We will do as she asks and bring her Malec, but only to lift the curse she placed on Kieran and to draw her out of Carsodonia. She will not get a chance to use Malec in any way. When we meet with her in two weeks, we will end this war, once and for all.”

All the generals listened intently as Damron said, “I’m liking the sound of that.”

The discussion of how we would take Carsodonia went rather smoothly, considering how it had begun, mainly because Aylard was practicing his shut-the-fuck-up rule of life. Plans were made to call Murin and La’Sere in from the surrounding cities. Cyr was too far out in Oak Ambler. There was no time for us to reach him and for the general to join us, but word would be sent to him anyway. We talked over what we could of how we planned to lay siege to Carsodonia, doing so with the knowledge that we had to be fluid in those plans—plans we would also need to include the draken in on when they returned from their flight.

“Have you heard from Eloana?” Poppy asked of my father. “Was she able to tell you anything about where she entombed Malec?”

Father cleared his throat. “Yes. Just before we arrived in Padonia. Eloana was able to give some detail,” he said as Poppy leaned forward, the length of her braid slipping over one shoulder. “Malec’s entombment is in the northeastern-most portion of the Blood Forest.”

“That would be…” Poppy picked up the edge of her braid.

“Near Masadonia,” Delano told her as I dragged my thumb over the curve of her hip. “A few days’ ride from here, if that.”

Poppy began twisting her braid. “Anything else?”

“You’ve been in there,” Father said, gesturing with his chin to a narrow window. “You know that a lot of it looks alike. But she did say that there were ruins in that portion of the Blood Forest. The remains of whatever existed there long before the Blood Forest grew. He would be close to that.”

“There could’ve been any number of small towns there at one time.” Sven scratched at his beard. “But there was nothing there but fields during the War of Two Kings.”

So, whatever had once existed there had been old. Possibly even as old as when the gods were awake.

“That helps, though.” Poppy glanced over her shoulder at me and then Kieran, who nodded. “I can use the spell you told me about,” she said to Sven. “I have something that belonged to him. A ring.”

Sven gave her a warm smile. “Clever.”

A pink, rather adorable flush stained her cheeks. I leaned in, pressing a quick kiss to the nape of her neck. “When we find him,” she began, “I don’t think we should attempt to wake him. Do any of you know if that will be possible?”

My father shook his head, looking at Sven. “Well…” the Lord began, and Perry filled a glass with whiskey, sliding it in his direction. “It really depends. Was he entombed in any sort of casket?”

“He was,” Father confirmed. “A casket covered in deity bones.”

“That should be fun to transport,” Kieran remarked.

“So, I imagine if you don’t open it, he should remain as he is when you find him,” Sven said.

“He’s unconscious,” Poppy said, and Sven’s stare turned curious. “That was how my father knew that something had happened to him. When Malec lost consciousness, it woke Ires.”

“Interesting,” Sven murmured, back to scratching his beard. “So, he’s the Primal of Life and the Consort’s son,” Sven began, “and his entombment had to have some effect on the environment.”

“Besides the Blood Forest?” I said, and Poppy straightened. Hell. I couldn’t believe it’d just occurred to me. “That’s why the Blood Forest is there. The trees grew because he was entombed there.”

“Just as the trees grow for you,” Kieran said, looking at Poppy.

“I thought you all knew that,” Sven remarked, his brows lifted.

“Apparently, they didn’t,” his son said, and Delano grinned because we hadn’t.

Poppy’s head tilted as she studied my father. “Who exactly helped Eloana with a Primal spell? Do we know whose Primal essence she used?”

“Wasn’t me,” Sven remarked.

“I believe Wilhelmina helped her,” Father said, and none of us had been expecting that. “What essence she used…I don’t know.”

“But do we know what becomes of Malec once we defeat the Blood Crown?” Hisa asked. “Do we put him back into the ground?”

All eyes, including Aylard’s, turned to us. I didn’t answer, having enough sense to know that it wasn’t my place to do so. It was Poppy’s.

“No,” she said, squaring her shoulders. “We make sure he returns home with his brother, to Nyktos and the Consort.”

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