Furyborn

“Lady Rielle,” began the king, his voice tight as he stood behind the enormous Privy Council table, “I have no idea where to begin.”

“Well,” said Lord Dervin, the words bursting out of him in a razor-thin voice, “perhaps we can start by discussing Lady Rielle’s willful abuse of power during her latest trial. Or else, her flagrant disregard for the sanctity of our children’s engagement—”

“Lord Dervin,” the king snapped, “when I want you to speak, I will ask you to do so.”

The man fell silent with a curt nod.

King Bastien glared at the table for a long moment, then turned his angry gaze onto Rielle.

It’s just King Bastien. She made herself meet his eyes, reminding herself over and over that this man was not only a king. He was also Audric’s father. She had grown up running through the halls of his home, shared a bed with his son and niece when they were all too young for it to be thought ill of.

“What,” he began quietly, “were you thinking out there?”

She hesitated, reminded herself to keep her voice clear and calm. “The truth, my king?”

“Yes, Lady Rielle. Please, for the love of God, tell me the truth.”

“I wanted to show the people what I am capable of. We’ve already discussed how important that is, have we not? That they think well of me, that they see my power out in the open and also see that it is nothing to fear.”

The king’s expression remained implacable. “Continue.”

“It seemed to me that the best way to show everyone that I am not only succeeding in the trials, but actually growing stronger because of them, was to demonstrate my ability to manipulate two elements simultaneously.” She resolved to look at neither Sloane, who sat rigid and pale at the council table, nor Tal, whose urgent gaze she could feel like the quiet pull of panic.

“What you’re saying, Lady Rielle,” said Queen Genoveve, her expression caught between amusement and something darker, “is that you wanted to show off.”

Well, they’ve got you pegged, haven’t they?

Corien’s soft laughter pricked goose bumps from Rielle’s flesh.

“And to demonstrate that my control is remarkable enough that a deadly threat can hover mere inches from someone,” Rielle answered, glancing at the Archon, “and I can ensure no harm befalls them, even so.”

The queen raised her eyebrows. “Remarkable?”

“I think my power is deserving of the word, don’t you?”

Tense silence reigned. Rielle glanced at Tal; he nodded at her with a small smile.

Her heart was a drum, steady and triumphant. “As for showing off… I think any human who can still work magic in this world understands the urge to embrace that gift and let it shine for all to see.”

“I do not understand that urge.” Rafiel Duval, Grand Magister of the Firmament, brown-skinned with black braids, sat with impeccable posture beside Tal. He wore windsinger robes of sky blue and storm gray. “Power does not exist to be flaunted. It exists to be tamed.”

“We disagree, then, Magister Duval. Now that I am free to use my power as I see fit, it feels stronger and healthier than ever.”

“You mean, now that you may use your power as the king sees fit.” Ludivine turned imploring eyes to Rielle. “Don’t you, Rielle?”

Rielle flushed, realizing her mistake.

Not a mistake, Corien said quickly. You said what you really think, my dear.

“Forgive me, my queen, my king.” Rielle bowed her head. “Lady Ludivine is right. Of course I misspoke.”

The king sat heavily in his chair. “And the creature you created. The dragon. What of that?”

“I think we can all agree,” Audric began, “that Lady Rielle demonstrated incredible control—”

“Hold your tongue, Audric,” said the king. “Lady Rielle can defend herself.”

“But, darling, don’t you remember?” Queen Genoveve’s cold gaze did not match the sweetness of her voice. “Our son has a hard time keeping his tongue to himself when Lady Rielle is near.”

A burning flush climbed up Rielle’s body. The Archon turned a delicate cough into his sleeve.

Audric was the first to speak, his voice low and furious. “Mother, do you really want to have that conversation right now?”

“Well, I certainly don’t,” the king answered with a sharp look at his wife. Then he glanced past her. “My apologies, Ludivine.”

Ludivine gave him a warm smile. “It is nothing, Uncle. A mistake made during fraught times.” Then she came to Rielle and gently took her hand before turning back to the council table. “I bear no grudge against Lady Rielle.” She extended her other hand to Audric, who approached after a moment’s hesitation. “Nor do I bear a grudge against my cousin, the prince.”

Lord Dervin’s mouth twisted as he took in the sight of the three of them standing united before the king.

“Were you going to kill me?”

Rielle startled to hear the Archon’s mild voice. “I…I beg your pardon, Your Holiness?”

His unblinking smile crept inside her like a nightmare. “I could feel it, you know. I could feel the empirium moving inside that dragon as it licked my face. It was angry at me.” He cocked his head, considering her. “You were angry at me. For those children, I know.”

Was this a challenge? Rielle’s hackles rose. “Yes, I was angry. I wanted to frighten you.”

Lord Dervin threw up his hands. “My king, is this the talk of someone we can trust to stand beside our children, much less parade about recklessly in front of thousands of people?”

“Frighten me you did,” the Archon continued, ignoring the outburst and leaning forward across the table. A new light glinted in his eyes. “I didn’t think you would kill me. Not yet. But I wondered how far you’d go.”

Not yet. A thrill skipped down Rielle’s body. She could not look away from the Archon’s narrow, bright gaze. Those eyes seemed to see everything inside her—the power even now leaping high in her blood, the presence of Corien sitting pensive in her mind, and the truth.

That truth was this: a dark kernel of regret stewed inside her, and if she could go back and live the trial over again, that hard black knot might just be enough to change her mind. To not stay the dragon’s claws and instead let it feed.

The Archon’s smile grew, as if he could see Rielle’s thoughts plainly on her face.

A sharp knock on the great hall doors disrupted the agitated silence, and when a page entered, Rielle relaxed slightly, glad for the distraction. Audric stood near, arms tense at his sides. She wanted to turn in to him, to hide her face in the warmth of his chest. She didn’t want to hide there forever, just for a while. Was it so wrong to wish for that?