Chapter The Ever Queen: CHAPTER 34

The House of Tides had a deeper chill to the sea breeze than other houses in the Ever. Moonlight painted the inky waves in silver as the Ever Ship bow carved through the surface. The air was heavy with brine and woodsmoke. Flames shattered the night. Joron’s shores were surrounded in sturdy stone towers with great basins of blue and gold flames lighting ships into his ports.

The shoreline was empty of imposing peaks like the House of Blades or the royal city, but stone cottages covered the rockier beaches in clusters all surrounding the village square.

Like a phantom on the water, the ship silently wove through the narrow islets leading to the main shores. A tang coated the salt in the air from rows of fire plum orchards, a pome with spiked, orange skin that could be used by boneweavers for pain relief, while the meat was traded as a delicacy amongst noble houses.

Once we carved through a weathered sea gate, cheerful bells rang out over the shores, announcing our arrival.

Flames burning in great iron basins at the top of the walls shifted to a poisonous green shade, and the thick, wooden gates cracked open. Small vessels awaited in the tides, there to ferry folk to the shores without crowding the ports and docks with large ships. Joron was a man of order and reveled in having a bit of control over those who stepped onto his shores, be it king or commoner.

I offered no greeting to those sent to collect us, merely held out a hand for Livia.

Gods, the woman was a sight. I’d nearly dragged her back into our bedchamber when she’d emerged with her hair tight in traditional plaits with bone beads of her folk, but over her head was one my black scarves, keeping hair free of her eyes. A tight corset accented her curves, and a thick skirt covered her legs, sturdy enough to withstand the sea winds.

A perfect collision of two worlds.

After we took our places in the sloop, the earth fae, Celine, and Tait followed. Stieg and Sewell remained at the shore, and Gavyn and Tavish would keep watch on the vessels in the tides.

Docks cut into the shallows, and waiting for us was a black coach painted in the seal on Joron’s banner—a skull locked in a violent wave.

“Erik.” Livia shook my arm and gestured to the villagers meandering through the market square of Joron’s main hub. Thin shawls over heads, hacking coughs by more, and a great many of the townspeople were threadbare and thin as a post.

Few even made an attempt to look our way.

Hair lifted on my arms. I gripped Livia’s hand firmer. “Stay close.”

“My King.” A footman dipped his chin, holding the door to a glossy coach pulled by four braying horthane.

I paused, one foot on the step, and faced the man. “And?”

He lifted his eyes, hesitant. “Beg pardon?”

“My King ,” I snarled, scooping my arm around Livia’s waist. “Does it look like I am the only royal here?”

The man’s eyes widened, he seemed uncertain but bowed at the waist. “Forgive me, My Lady—”

“Queen, you bastard. She is not only the of the palace, she is the Ever Queen.”

Livia drew in a sharp breath through her nose but did not shrink against me. If our bond remained, doubtless I would sense her heightened pulse, the pull she often felt to disappear when she grew uneasy. She fought it, no mistake, she stood straighter, claimed her position.

“Of course,” he said and offered a fresh bow, facing Livia. “Highness. Welcome.”

“Don’t make me remind you again,” I snarled and ushered Livia inside ahead of me.

The footman hurried out a greeting to the others, merely naming them as, “Honored guests.”

“So this is your House of Tides.” Jonas laughed. “Wonderful way to earn a bit of fealty, My King. Snap and bite at every soul you see.”

I huffed and looked out the window, slipping my fingers through Livia’s. Haggard folk lined the roads, empty, almost despondent. What the hells? Joron had always built his ego upon the shoulders of his his , his .

The people we passed seemed as though they were weakening with each step.

Valen followed the folk out the other window. “It was the right move.”

“What was?” Jonas asked.

“If the perception of her authority is to change, he must not allow disrespect for his queen. Not in the slightest.” Valen spoke so plainly, so in favor of my outburst, I wasn’t certain I’d heard him correctly.

“Speaking from experience, Daj?” Livia pinched her lips.

“Yes.”

“Gods.” Livia shook her head. “Why have you and Maj not told us all these sordid details about your history?”

Valen grinned. “And allow you to see me as less than perfectly in control of my temper? I think not, little love.”

“I never thought I’d say it, Serpent,” Livia whispered, “but you have a great deal more in common with my father than I thought.”

True enough. The more I learned of my father’s killer, the more I understood his moves, his brutality, like I was seeing myself reflected through a pane of glass. Every step, even the death of the Ever King, had been to defend his queen, his family, his people.

It was a short distance to Joron’s manor, a wood and wattle structure made of three levels and simple blue banners waving in the breeze from every window, meant to mimic the flow of the sea.

“King Erik, what an surprise.” From atop a stone stoop, Joron watched us emerge one by one, sneering, his tone so pretentious I thought he might cough from the effort of speaking through his nose.

A woman with silver hair—like a flash of starlight—stood two paces at his back. Her chin was lifted in defiance, her dark eyes like an underwater abyss.

I ignored Joron, looking to the woman instead. “Lady Avaline. I have not seen you in court.”

Avaline Mindtaker was a mere turn younger than Livia. She ought to have been to the royal city as a courtier long ago, but Joron never parted with his precious gift.

She dipped her chin. “Highness. My father feels I am better suited here.”

Of course, he did. “Joron. Like I told your footman, I will have you address the queen properly. It aggravates me when she is ignored.”

Joron sneered, beastly and with unmasked derision, and tipped his head. “Welcome to the House of Tides, Queen.”

Only queen. Not queen. I wanted to forgo our plans and split Joron’s sneer across his face permanently.

“I was pleased to hear the king was arriving,” Joron said, swirling his flute of wine more than sipping. “Although, I am unfamiliar with your guests.”

“Then you’ve proven yet again how little fighting you did during the war.” I opened my arm to the earth fae. “Allow me to introduce the royal lines of the earth realms, and the earth bender, king of the Night Folk fae.”

Joron’s eyes bulged. “You . . . stand with the Ever King’s killer?”

“The Ever King is not dead.” I patted my chest. “If you speak of the former king, then yes. I stand with those who stand with my queen. Her father seems to do that well enough.”

The bastard smoothed down his garish doublet and sniffed. “Of course. Naturally. Well, to what do I owe the honor of your visit?”

“Surely you’ve heard, Joron. We’re a kingdom divided.”

Joron sipped slowly, pale eyes unblinking. “There’s been talk. I take it you’ve come to petition me for my support against . . .

heir of Thorvald, am I understanding correctly?”

“Actually, I care little about your support.” I pointed to his daughter. “We seek an audience with Lady Avaline.”

A flush filled her pale cheeks, taken off guard. But the slightest flicker of a grin painted her lips, as though the notion of speaking to another soul that was not Joron brought her a true thrill.

A scowl crept over Joron’s slanted features, a storm rolling over the sea, slow to build and vicious. “I’m afraid I cannot permit it, My King. My daughter does not take well to other people. Certainly not such strangers as earth fae.”

“She seems to be handling it just fine,” Sander said.

Joron frowned. “Surely you’ve heard of her fits, King Erik.”

Avaline hung her head and took a small step backward.

“I’ve heard,” I said. “Though, strangely, have never witnessed one.”

“Only because I have kept her within our walls.”

“I need to speak to your daughter.” Time for patience was at an end.

“And, again, I am afraid for the wellbeing of my daughter, I must refuse.” Joron dipped his chin with derision. “Respectfully.”

Respectfully, I’d cut off his balls and shove them down his damn throat if he sneered at me once more.

“What do you say, Avaline?”

She jolted, lifting her gaze. Avaline shot a look to Joron’s twisted face. He glared at her, puckering his features like drawstrings cinched his brow and lips.

In her silence, I’d not noticed Livia had peered around the corner of his home until another hacking cough drew out her panicked tone.

“Erik!” Livia was on her knees. “Gods, look.”

“I beg your pardon.” Joron rushed for the edge of his manor. “There is nothing of interest to the House of Kings, and I do not permit unprovoked rummaging.”

On Joron’s first step toward Livia, he was met with the curved edge of a battle axe propped beneath his chin. Valen’s eyes were black as slate.

Avaline let out a shriek of surprise and covered her mouth, but she did not cower, merely watched as each step Valen took nudged Joron back toward the entrance of his manor. “Don’t go near her,” was all the earth bender said.

“King Erik?” Joron looked horrified, mouth parted, eyes bewildered.

“What would you like me to do? I think he should bury you within your own lands until we’re finished.”

Mira trailed her fingers over Joron’s shoulder, a chilling kind of darkness written in her bright eyes. “I wonder how long you could live buried in the earth before madness set in?”

Tait’s brow flicked, but he turned his gaze to his pocket watch and cursed. “There is danger here.”

“What is so important about that damn clock?” Mira said in a hiss under her breath.

“Reveals danger,” Tait snapped back.

One brow arched, the princess tilted her head. “Then why haven’t you been staring at that thing the whole time?”

“Danger for the Ever, meaning the crown.” Tait returned the golden watch to his trousers. “A spell from the House of Mists to aid me in finding anyone who means harm to the king . . . and now queen. The one thing Harald did right by commissioning this.”

“It only works around Bloodsinger?”

Tait didn’t respond, merely offered the princess an exasperated look, like he’d already explained it all in great depth.

I did not need a mystical watch to tell me, the prickle on my flesh and weight in my gut was enough to know there was something amiss in the House of Tides.

Livia stroked the hair of a child. A girl, her matted braids were tangled around her flushed face, and the sickly creature could hardly catch a breath between her coughing spells. The girl trembled, flushed in fever, and toppled at her side was a basket of . . .

“What the hells is this?” I lifted a pome, soaked in blackened skin. “The darkening?”

Livia clung to the child, but a new sort of villainy burned in the deep blue of her eyes. “They’re eating it. This isle is infected.”

It was then I looked to the fields behind the manor. Deadened meadows, crops, and riverbanks. Land that looked as though a wildfire had devoured the lot of it soaked the House of Tides.

“Three hells.” Valen took in the land. “This is what you’ve been healing?”

“This is what has been devouring us,” I retorted, voice rough and more hiss than words. I reeled around the corner, darkened pome in hand, and gripped Joron by the throat. “Why did you never send word? The state of your lands, hells Joron, they’ve been infected for months.”

The tide lord shook me off. “We tend to ourselves in the House of Tides. Our gifts were given for a reason, if we cannot save ourselves, then we do not deserve to be saved.”

“You don’t make those choices for people.” I slammed a hand against his chest, shoving him against the wall. “Your folk are dying.”

“Have you been feeding them infected crops?” Livia, furious and harried, came to my side, shaking another blackened fruit in her hand. “You’ve been starving them, haven’t you? They have no choice but to take from the darkening fields.”

Joron’s eyes flashed in hatred. “I never permitted my folk to take from the fields. If they would consecrate and ration, they would not be in this state.”

I let out a growl of building rage and slammed his back against the wall again. “Did you think we wouldn’t notice when we arrived here? Why have you let this go on?” In Joron’s silence, I understood. The laugh from my throat was bitter, empty. “Ah. You were awaiting a new king. The creator of the darkening. You want him to rule, to clear your lands, is that it? So, you sit here like a coward and what? Wait me out? Wait for my death?”

“It isn’t like that,” Joron murmured. “It’s logical. We’ve heard by now who is responsible for the curse. He . . . he will be able to clear it.”

“As can your queen,” I snapped.

“Yes, but it will be swifter if a curse maker breaks their own spell.” Joron glared at me. “If you would not be so proud and simply give up the blood crown—”

My fist crunched over Joron’s jaw. Unsatisfied, I struck him again, then once more until he doubled over. Joron coughed and kicked, desperate to break free when the ground shuddered beneath Valen’s fury magic, a threat of what could come.

Avaline backed away, horrified. Mira went to the woman, squaring to her, voice soft. “You know something is wrong here, don’t you? You don’t want this. Look at your people, they grow ill.”

Avaline let her hand slide off her mouth. She looked to me, then Livia who slammed the rotted fruit onto the stones at our feet.

“Father . . . believes it is a sign of the fates, that a new blood heir is destined to rise.” Avaline winced. “After so many turns with the blight unable to be healed, it was thought this new king might have answers.”

“But you disagree?” Mira pressed gently.

Avaline didn’t respond.

Celine was the next to move in. “Look at me.” Tidecaller waited until the woman lifted her gaze. “Bonekeeper began the darkening. Why would we want him to be on the throne?”

“Father says—”

“Shut up, girl,” Joron seethed.

I struck his lip again, his blood on my knuckles. “Speak, Avaline.”

She let out a rough breath. “Father says we do not have a choice. Yes, we heard the darkening was his doing, but he . . . well, he wants to restore the Ever to what it was, not what—forgive me, My King—not what you are creating.”

“I see.” Livia stepped forward, her gaze focused nowhere but on Joron. “So it all leads back to a queen.”

“Songbird,” I warned when she knelt, but I pulled my hand away. Instinct to shield her, to keep her from more harm burned like lamplight in my chest. Yet, she was queen. She was a voice of the Ever.

Livia leveled with Joron, sneering into his bloodied face. “You hate that Erik placed me on the throne, don’t you? You would rather crown the bastard who is killing your lands, your people, all so a queen does not sit above you.”

“It is deeper than that.”

“Perhaps,” she said. “But that is a great part of it. You think he is your answer? Hmm, I wonder why he had to take me, then? Let me tell you something.” Livia leaned closer, lip curled. “It will not be a traitor who saves your lands. It will be your queen.”

She said nothing else and took hold of the splattered bits of fruit at her feet. Cupped in her palms, she closed her eyes. Even without touching her as we’d done, a hum of fury burned in the stone tiles. It spread through the courtyard. I went to her side, touching her shoulder, and nearly buckled from the burst of heat radiating off her skin.

Gasps, even cries of praise, rolled from the far side of Joron’s manor.

“Good hells, Liv.” Jonas stood around the corner. “Keep going. Valen, look.”

The earth bender followed. He did not wear a look of stun. He grinned with a searing pride. “It’s pulling back from those fields.”

“She’s not even touching it this time,” Tait whispered.

“No.” I held tightly to Livia’s shoulder, convinced bond or not, there was a power that flowed through us, an unmistakable strength. “But do not underestimate the rage of the Ever Queen. Hold him, will you?”

Mira and Sander went without pause to Joron’s side. Mira wrapped the tide lord in a dazed illusion of darkness. His whimpers were sweet as the dawn after a wretched night.

“Come.” I helped Livia to her feet. “These people will not doubt who you are by the time we end this.”

Since reuniting, we’d had little time to seek out the blight and poison across the Ever. The risk of facing Larsson unprepared was too fierce, and in truth, I wasn’t certain if Livia was ready.

She proved me wrong.

Without a pause, Livia hurried to the back fields. The thrum of magic, hot and palpable, burned between us. Fate joined us as children, and it was felt now with every step through Joron’s fields.

Crops, stalks of grass, of wildflowers, of mangled fruit trees, they returned, lush and full and ripe. Livia was unrelenting. Tension pulsed in her jaw, but if she was fatiguing, she never let it show, merely urged us to continue across the flatlands.

I studied her, holding her palm, while she worked on a scorched, deadened wild oak.

. She would not hear me, but her gaze caught mine, as though something in her heart stirred. With a wicked smirk, she nodded toward the deeper fields and pressed on.

Two fields. Three meadows. An entire orchard of fire plums that would feed most of the township for a month. Livia pulled back the poisoned earth with more strength than I anticipated. Truth be told, she did so with more strength than me. By the time she slumped into my chest, spent, I was damn close to pleading we return.

We were able to stumble back to the side of Joron’s manor where a small army of people awaited, slack-jawed, in awe.

“Bleeding hells.” Celine knelt in front of us, a ladle and bucket of fresh water in her hands. She forced the spoon against our lips, wetting our mouths. “Did you see how far you went?”

“No, Tidecaller.” I laid back on the grass, cradling Livia’s head to my heart. “We must’ve missed it, but please, do tell us how far?”

Celine clicked her tongue. “You won’t be able to stand for days.”

I didn’t disagree.

Movement by our heads forced me to crack my eyes. The earth bender stood over us, head cocked.

“Daj?” Livia said weakly. “What’s . . . what’s with the look? You’ve seen me bloom soil before.”

His face was tugged into something else, not confusion over her abilities, it was more he studied us. “Why did you touch her while she pulled it away?”

I closed my eyes, too fatigued to keep them open. “We found it helps. I thought it wouldn’t without the heartbond, but—”

“It did.” Livia patted my belly, like she might be dozing off. “Your words . . . well, help, Serpent.”

Valen rubbed a hand down his face. “Your touch strengthened her?”

“I suppose.” Did he not realize I wanted to sleep for no less than two days?

“Dammit,” he grumbled, and as he walked away, it sounded a great deal like he said, “like Elise.”

Of course, it could’ve been made up in the haze of my mind.

“Erik.” Tait kicked the bottom of my boot. “You’ll sleep soon, but we need to deal with Joron.”

Damn bastard. Reluctantly, I unraveled from Livia’s body, and together we stood.

Joron was coated in sweat but released from whatever illusion Mira had used to keep him compliant. He blinked his gaze to us.

“On your knees,” I said, voice low. “Bow to your queen. Thank her for her mercy, and perhaps I’ll let you keep your eyes. I’ve not decided on your tongue yet.”

Joron shuffled forward. He bent low, pressed his brow to the stones, and placed his palms out in front of Livia. “My Queen.”

Livia leaned against me, seeking my strength the way I sought hers. She looked to the curious people around us and lifted her voice as well as she could. “I am Livia Ferus, and I have sat on the throne of the Ever King. I am his queen. Stand with us, and you will not suffer the way your lord has made you suffer. You will not be forced to choose a tyrant who steals a crown, who poisons your land, your home.”

I kept a possessive hand on her back but said nothing. Not when a few gazes fell to me, as though they did not know what to do, not when Joron spat his distaste for our abuse of his title.

“I will choose an Ever Queen.” Avaline, meek and uncertain, stepped forward. Murmurs followed from her house. “I will choose you both to lead us through . . . well, just to lead us. I don’t exactly know what all is going on out there.”

“The earth realms stand with Erik Bloodsinger and Livia Ferus.” Aleksi pounded a fist to his chest.

More murmurs rose up when a few folk went to their knees. Some uttered prayers to the gods. Most seemed too stunned to move, too uncertain on who to follow—their king, a new queen, or the lord of their house.

“My King.” Avaline approached, giving her father a wide step as she came. “You . . . you said you came to speak to me.”

“Aye. We did.”

She clasped her hands in front of her body. “I would like to hear what you wanted to say.”

It took little convincing of Avaline to accompany us to the royal city. I wasn’t certain if she wanted to join to aid us with her voice, or merely to see a bit more of the Ever.

At the docks, Gavyn aided the weakest folk onto his ship.

“You’ll have access to clean food, boneweavers, and fresh beds,” I shouted, leaning over the rail of the Ever Ship to hide how desperately I wanted to slide to the deck. “You are of the House of Tides, but you are of the Ever first and foremost. We do not allow our folk to suffer the way you have been forced.”

Some joined us aboard the Ever Ship, others remained on land, able to work, and now, find unblighted food. Men from the House of Bones and the Ever Ship offered to remain behind and keep Joron in their sights, a sort of imprisonment in his own manor, until this ended.

Should I die, Larsson could free him or kill him. It mattered little to me.

Avaline closed her eyes against the sea spray. “My voice is dangerous, My King. I hope you know.”

“I know some,” I admitted. “But there is a connection I must make.”

Avaline scoffed, bewildered. “You do not fit the old ways of the Ever, King Erik.”

“I’m not of the Ever.” I looked to Livia. “I’m of her. Your voice will help me find those who took her, harmed her, who began the darkening, and who seek to return the Ever Kingdom into the land of brutes like King Thorvald.”

Avaline gave me a gentle nod. “Then, I agree. I think it will be worth the risk.”