Chapter 7

Chapter 7
Violetta’s POV

By the time I returned to the Fae Realm after leaving the Outbounds the next morning, the sun had already begun to sink beneath the mountains.

The journey from the werewolf territory had been quiet, but my mind had been anything but as I flew.

Selene’s face followed me the entire way. I kept on seeing the hurt in her eyes and the anger in her voice. I had survived battles with less difficulty than I had survived that conversation, if I was being honest with myself.

Unlike the wolf realms that were severely affected by the war, the Fae capital had not changed much in four years.

The towering white buildings still shimmered beneath the fading sunlight. Bridges of enchanted crystal connected the upper districts, while glowing lanterns floated above the streets. The royal palace rose beyond them, its towers disappearing into the clouds.

My home and my kingdom.

And sometimes, it still felt like neither.

As soon as I walked through the gates with the men who had gone with me, several guards bowed to me. “Your Majesty.”

“Welcome home, Your Majesty,” some maids echoed as well.

“Thank you,” I responded, walking through the halls. However, the moment I entered the throne hall, I knew something was wrong, as the feeling in the atmosphere was off.

Several members of the royal council stood gathered near the long table, all staring at me. They didn’t even acknowledge my presence with a welcome back—not like I cared about that, but it was strange.

I stopped. “Is there a problem?”

Councilor Evander stepped forward. “Nothing that requires your immediate attention, Your Majesty.”

I studied him and then raised my brows. “Why, then, was I told it was a matter of urgency?”

No one answered.

I had a good mind to question the guard later on.

Evander smiled politely. “Perhaps the journey has made you weary.”

“I asked you a question.”

His smile disappeared and he cleared his throat. “The council has been discussing recent concerns.”

“About?”

He exchanged a glance with another councilor. “The stability of the crown.”

Ah. There it was. What were they expecting? That I find myself a husband, then he becomes king, and suddenly my importance is lessened? I would be required to give the throne an heir, and despite being the actual ruler, they’d start acting like my husband was more important than I was. I’d seen it before with Thorne’s mother.

I walked toward the table. “What about it?”

A woman seated near the end spoke. “Your Majesty, there have been… concerns among the noble houses.”

“Concerns?” I asked.

“Yes.”

“About me?” I couldn’t help but question. This was exactly how the problem with Thorne started—telling him about concerns for the crown, hiding their true intentions under the guise of some stupid care.

No one answered immediately, and that was answer enough.

I pulled out a chair and sat. “Go on.”

Evander cleared his throat. “There are those who believe King Thorne may have acted too quickly when he abdicated.”

My jaw tightened. “Thorne made his decision willingly… and if he acted too quickly, I wonder exactly why that is,” I replied sarcastically, then pretended to think for a minute. “Oh, that’s right. He ‘abandoned’ his throne when in reality he was trying to protect the realm from the war ever getting here, back when the hollowed soldiers started to stake out our lands.”

They all looked uncomfortable. “That is not what we mean.”

“Then what exactly are we discussing?”

“Whether the decision was wise.”

I leaned back. “And who has suddenly become qualified to judge the former king’s decisions?”

Silence.

The woman spoke again. “Some of the old houses believe the throne should have remained within the traditional royal bloodline.”

I almost laughed. “Thorne was the king. He handed the throne to one of the noble ruling families… and I think we both know where I fall.”

“Exactly.”

“And he chose me.”

“Yes.”

“Then I fail to see the problem. Or I might start suspecting a pattern—that the Fae are having a problem with hybrids, after saying that as long as we have magic in our blood, we are family.”

The woman lowered her gaze. “You are young, Violetta.”

“I am well aware.”

“You were a warrior before becoming queen.”

“I am also aware of that.”

“And you have not been trained for the political responsibilities of a monarch. It’s been four years and we have seen that you know quite a lot, but it is not enough.”

I looked at her. Was she being serious? I was literally his right hand for years. I knew a hell of a lot about politics. “Then perhaps you should have told Thorne before he handed me the crown? To choose someone else? Or let him continue being king like he was, instead of trying to start a rebellion?”
The hall was silent.

“If that’s all, we’re finished.”

“Your Majesty.”

I stopped as Evander’s voice followed me.

“There are also rumours.”

I slowly turned. “What rumours?”

His expression became uncomfortable. “That you are hiding something.”

My stomach felt sick, but only for a second. I kept my face unreadable and acted like I was as innocent as I could be. “What exactly am I supposedly hiding?”

“We don’t know.”

“Then why bring it to me?”

“Because rumours become dangerous when they’re allowed to spread unchecked,” he said. “It will keep our people uneasy about their ruler—”

“And who’s spreading them?” I asked. “Or who is allowing them to spread?”

Again, silence.

“Find out,” I commanded, and walked toward the doors.

Behind me, I heard the woman speak. “Some believe Thorne made a mistake.”

I stopped.

She continued. “They believe you are unfit to rule.”

My hand tightened around the edge of my cloak. “And what do you, as a council, believe? Considering how well the kingdom has been running?”

The room went silent as I looked over my shoulder.

She didn’t answer.

I smiled faintly. “That’s what I thought.”

I left the council chamber, leaving the door open as I walked through the corridor without slowing. Only when I reached the private wing did I finally let my expression fall.

This was not unexpected.

I’d known there were people who never wanted me on the throne. Thorne’s abdication had not erased the fact that I had followed him there. They had probably wanted him to choose someone who was part of the uprising when he chose to give up the throne instead of fighting it, and it had merely angered them.

Maybe also the fact that I refused to be anybody’s pawn.
And now they were beginning to speak.

That I was too young, inexperienced, close to Thorne, unfit, a mistake.

Funny bunch of old fools.

I entered my chambers and shut the door, just standing there. Then I walked toward the mirror, my reflection staring back at me.

I was a queen, a warrior… and a monster.

The last word was one I had never allowed myself to say aloud, even though deep down I knew what I was. I could not even deny the dark urges I felt when my demon side sometimes threatened to resurface. The last time I had given in to it was the way in which I had killed Gwen and displayed her body for the world to see. Till now, no one knew except Selene.

My fingers slowly curled into fists.

They could question my age, my abilities, and whether Thorne had made the right decision, but if they ever discovered what I truly was, none of those questions would matter.

They would demand my death.

And the throne would return to the bloodlines that had wanted it all along.

I closed my eyes and sucked in a sharp breath.

“Your Majesty?”

I opened them. “Come in.”

One of my attendants entered. “The council has requested another meeting tomorrow morning.”

“Of course they have.”

She hesitated. “There is something else.”

I looked at her and lifted my brows. “What?”

“Some of the nobles are saying the old royal families should be restored.”

I stared at her reflection in the mirror. “They’re getting bolder.”

“Yes, Your Majesty.”

They’d never liked me from the start, that I knew… and soon, my own people might be waging a war against me.

The gods help me.