Chapter 13

13

M y palms are so sweaty.

That's my predominant thought as Zadyn and I sit at a circular table in the council room, across from my dad—I've got to stop doing that—the king and the members of his small council.

At the round table sits the Master of Coin—a pale, High Fae male with long, lustrous, blue-black hair and narrowed eyes, called Lord Gronwen. Beside him is the High Priest, a bald fae in billowing blue robes whose soft, wrinkled skin makes him appear close to Gnorr in age. Across from him sits the king's Head of Records, Lord Conwell, a stunning male with golden-brown skin and electric blue eyes.

Standing behind my father's right shoulder is Jack. Jace.

Silence falls after the introductions, and the king watches me, his expression hard and unreadable. I'm wondering if they're expecting me to say something. I chance a look at Zadyn, and he nods his head in silent confirmation.

"For those of you who don't know me—which is all of you,"

Strong start .

"My name is Serena Avery. This is my familiar, Zadyn—" I glance at him then, just realizing that I never learned his last name.

"Rhodes," he supplies.

The king's eyebrows raise as he leans forward.

"Not the Rhodeses of Cardynia?" he asks doubtfully, narrowing his eyes.

"The very ones. I believe you know my father, Zorren Rhodes."

A laugh breaks through the king's stone-faced stare. It sounds so much like my dad that my heart twists to hear it again.

"Zadyn." He shakes his head in disbelief. "You're grown. You were just an infant when you left court. Your father," he recounts fondly, "fought beside me in every battle since we were seventeen. He was my oldest friend." A look of sadness crosses his features. "Gods, you look just like him."

Zadyn's jaw clenches, and I feel him tense beside me.

"When did it happen?" he asks quietly.

"Nearly a year after your departure." The king's regret is sincere. He rises to his feet, glancing between us while Jace eyes him warily.

"They said she was found with a familiar, but I never suspected…it worked then. You found her. I had my doubts when she first arrived, but this…" He trails off. "Why didn't you come to me sooner?"

"Frankly, I wanted to make sure you could be trusted not to harm her," Zadyn says.

"What worked?" I ask.

The king finally looks at me. Really looks at me for the first time since being here.

"Good gods, it actually worked. I had all but given up hope." He marvels at me, like a sideshow curiosity .

Rising to my feet, I demand, "Tell me what worked."

He motions for me to sit back down.

"There is much to explain."

I reluctantly sink back into my seat.

"Nearly two hundred years ago, we were at war with Vod. Their king, at the time, was a tyrant who sought to expand his reach overseas. They had been encroaching on our lands for years, spreading like a plague around this kingdom—stirring civil unrest, raiding and pillaging the poor villages. With their military numbers and fleets, we needed a sure-fire defense, something to secure our lands. After I inherited the crown from my father, I continued his quest to find the Dragon Rider with the help of your parents. We needed to end the war and ensure against all future ones." His gaze shifts back to Zadyn.

"We knew that with a dragon on our side, any attack on Aegean soil would be futile. Our enemies wouldn't stand a chance. We searched for centuries, to no avail. We had all but given up hope of ever finding her when we sailed the Erastin Ocean to consult the High Seer. Her price was steep, but we paid it. Our centuries of searching, she said, had been in vain. You were never here." He turns to me.

"She foretold the birth of a babe with black blood, hidden from sight by old magic, belonging to our world but not born to it."

I feel a chill run down my spine.

"Your mother"—he looks at Zadyn and swallows thickly—"clever as she was, devised a plan. We were unsure it would work, but it was a necessary risk. She crafted a spell, binding the life of her unborn son to that of the unborn Blackblood witch. She did everything to ensure the binding would hold across worlds, across galaxies. She gave her life to make it so," he says, his cold king's stare softening a fraction .

I peer at Zadyn, my mind racing. Zadyn's mother had magic? Was she a witch?

"One hundred and seventy years went by with no sign of the Blackblood. We found an alternative solution to end the war and smooth tensions with Vod. When your father took you from court for safekeeping, even I did not know the location." A dark look crosses his features. "Years passed, and then one day, he sent word that the mark had finally appeared on you. The mark of a familiar. And we knew she had been born." He gestures to where I sit, holding my breath.

A moment of silence passes before I slide my gaze to Zadyn.

"So your mother created this bond as a direct link to me in the mortal world?"

He confirms with a nod.

"Without your mother and her magic, there was no way to know if you had reached her once you'd been summoned. If you were safe. All we could do was wait and hope that one day you would return to us," the king says, almost to himself.

"With the very thing my parents gave their lives for, of course," Zadyn says with a touch of bitterness. A flicker of hurt skids across the king's face.

"They knew the cost, and they paid it willingly for the good of the realm," he says evenly. "It was our secret to bear. Your father took you from court to protect it and to protect you. We did everything we could think of to keep you safe."

"But not to keep them safe. They took the secret to their graves." Zadyn stares at the king with defiance in his eyes. "Don't pity me—I knew what I was coming back to."

A cool and unaffected mask slips over the king's face. "The fact that the two of you sit here before me confirms that your parents' sacrifice was not in vain. This is her. The last Blackblood witch."

It's my turn to speak up. "Except I can't touch my magic. "

His eyes snap to me, nearly jarring me from my seat. The weight of his stare and the power rolling off of him is truly frightening. "What I mean is, I can't access it."

"The glamour is likely what's repressing it. Gnorr said as much," the king replies tonelessly.

"Look," I sigh. "There's a lot we need to cover here. Before I agree to be your…witch."

"There is no agreeing or disagreeing with what you are. It simply is. This is your birthright. There is no denying it—you are a Blackblood. Whether or not you desire my protection and safekeeping in fulfilling your birthright, however, is up to you."

"Your protection and safekeeping got off to a promising start when you threw me in a dungeon to be tortured for answers I didn't have," I spit, gesturing to Jace. If I'm not mistaken, it's regret I see on his face.

I sigh, softening. "Listen, I can't cast spells or ride broomsticks or brew love potions—" Zadyn shoots me a look that says not helping , and I trail off.

"You will be able to do all that and more," the king says firmly, dismissing my opposition. "When the witches died, their spirits released a large amount of energy. Their magic was given back to the land, the soil from whence it came. But with their final breaths, they threw part of that energy into preserving their line. They hid their magic in you and then hid you in your mother's womb. Your blood appears red to blend in with the humans you were raised by."

"I am human. Witch or not, I will always be human," I say with contempt, glancing around the room at the wary onlookers. Easing back on the bite in my tone, I continue, "Besides, that doesn't make sense. I was born thousands of years after the witches died."

"Time works differently in your world. You may not have had physical form yet, but you, your soul, existed in the ether well before you were even an idea in your human parents' heads. You exist because the Blackbloods willed it so. Their magic was strong enough to span across time and space itself. Serena." His voice softens, and there is a shift in his cold expression, making him look so…Dad. And the way he says my name...

"You are safer here than in any other court. If you leave, you will be found by others and forced into action. They will not treat you with the grace that we have."

"Oh, you mean the grace of holding me captive or the grace of allowing me to clean your filthy toilets?" I retort.

He chuckles in surprise. "You'll forgive us for taking precautions against a stranger in our home. We did not yet have the full story. You are both free to leave if that is your will, but make no mistake—you will be kept safe here."

"And will I be kept safe from the dragon you intend for me to ride, or is that too much to ask?"

He says nothing.

"I'll be honest," I begin. "I don't fully understand what I'm doing here. But I will help you with the dragon if you show me how. On the condition that you let me go home when my work is done."

He is silent for a long moment, weighing my bargain.

"I wish I could promise you that." His words are sincere. "But bonding a dragon is for life. You may be surprised how your mind changes after experiencing it for yourself. Aside from that, there have been…disturbances at the portal as of late. It would be unsafe to be anywhere nearby until we know more."

I'm silent.

"The captain has informed me of your…demands." The king braces his hands on the table, leaning forward slightly. Ja ce's eyes link with mine for a brief moment, his beautiful face set hard as stone.

"Requests," I correct, holding up my pointer finger. "None of which seem unreasonable given the fact that I'm about to devote my life for the foreseeable future to being at your service."

I smile sweetly. He huffs a mirthless laugh.

"We can agree that the future Dragon Rider will need training. Physical and magical." He sits back in his ornately carved chair and steeples his hands. My eyes snag on the slight arch of his ears—the only distinguishable difference between Dad and king.

Except for the frilly clothes, of course.

"You will remain under my care and protection so long as you train in those areas. You will report to the captain each morning for physical training."

" He's going to train me?" I ask, my eyebrows quirked. His upper lip pulls back in a challenging snarl.

"Train you and serve as your personal guard."

"Problem with that, witch?" he asks.

"No. It's perfectly fine." It takes effort to make my voice sound nonchalant as I redirect my attention to the king.

"Zadyn, you will tutor her in the ways of our world. History, court politics, magic. Teach her anything and everything that will prepare her for the journey she is about to embark upon."

His gaze shifts to me. "In your off time, you will both be active members of this court."

The king's Master of Coin—the man with the long black hair and sinister eyes—stirs in his seat. "While I think that a wise idea, Majesty, we should make sure we are all on the same page about what we tell the public. It is not often we welcome new court members. There will be talk about who she is and where she came from. "

"He has a point, my King," the ancient, robed fae drawls in a soft, reverent voice. "Perhaps we could claim a distant relative of Your Majesty. Any ties to the crown would justify her being here and put stop to any rumors."

"Very well." The king nods tightly. "From henceforth, you shall be known as Lady Serena Accostia. You will take the name of my kin. Your father was High Fae and a cousin of the king. He fell in battle, and your mother fled to raise you at a temple in the north. Both parents are deceased."

I flinch inwardly.

Serena Accostia. Lady Serena Accostia.

"You are to attend my daughter, the princess, as one of her ladies."

"Of course, there is also the matter of her appearance," Gronwen says with disdain, his black pupils scanning me. I want to shrivel under his accusing stare. "She hardly blends."

"Is there nothing to be done for the human glamour?" the gorgeous golden brown-skinned male, Lord Conwell, asks.

"Even Gnorr could not reverse it. In time, perhaps." The king glances at him.

"Even in the human glamour, there is an odd resemblance…" The hairless High Priest trails off, eyes bouncing between me and the king.

"Mere coincidence," the king replies dismissively.

"There is another solution. If we cannot undo the glamour, perhaps we can add to it," the High Priest murmurs, assessing me.

"You want to layer glamours?" Jace eyes him incredulously.

"Temporarily. If her identity is to remain hidden at court, then she should look fae."

"Why would we need to hide my identity?" I interject.

"Because if other kingdoms catch wind of your presence here, they will come for you," Jace answers, eyes leveled with mine.

"Isn't the truth going to come out, eventually?" I ask the room.

"The most lethal weapons are the ones that remain concealed up until the very. Last. Second." Gronwen purrs.

I shudder.

"Do it." The king gives the High Priest a sharp nod. He lifts a hand in my direction, and a soft breeze wraps around me. Before I can protest, he lowers his hands to his lap.

"What did you just do to me?" I hiss.

"Nothing drastic. Now you look the part." Gronwen smiles like the cat that ate the canary. I dare to lift my fingers to my ears and gasp when I feel the slightly pointed tip. I glance at Zadyn, horrified.

"It's okay," he assures me. I relax a little and find my voice.

Turning to the king, I ask, "What do we tell people about Zadyn?"

"The truth. He is Zadyn Rhodes, Lord of Cardynia. Your birthright." He looks at Zadyn, who, in turn, bows his head in silent gratitude. "Speak of this to no one outside of this room. The only others privy to your true identity will be the guards I place on your personal detail."

"Zadyn and I had an idea," I say, earning the curious eyes of every male in the room. "You said that the glamour concealed my magic. But what if it was suppressed because I've never drank before?"

The room is silent.

"He said that the Blackbloods fed on Bluebloods to sustain themselves."

The king looks back to Jace. Something unsaid passes between them .

"Confer with Madame Gnorr on the subject. She may have sources."

"Sire." Jace nods to him dutifully.

"Is there anything else you'd like to discuss before this meeting adjourns?" the king asks me.

"Just one thing," I start. "My friend, Igrid, is a servant here. Can I request for her to be on my service?"

"Done," he answers quickly. "Welcome to the Court of Aegar, Lady Accostia. Your training begins at dawn."