These Twisted Bonds (These Hollow Vows, #2)(20)
“I don’t understand. Why can’t Sebastian take the throne? He has royal Unseelie blood, he has the crown, how does he not have the power too?”
“Because you have it,” Misha says gently. “When you bonded with Sebastian, the bond killed you, and since you’d never magically declared your heir, the crown followed that bond like a map to Sebastian.”
“Then what’s the problem?”
“Sebastian has the Crown of Starlight,” Misha says. “And if he hadn’t done anything but bond with you, he would have the power of the crown as well. But he didn’t stop with the bond. He gave you the Potion of Life and made you fae, and in doing so, he tied the magic of the crown to your life before it could follow the crown.”
Tied the magic to my immortal life. “Magic is life,” I whisper, remembering those words Finn taught me. It feels like so long ago now, but it was merely weeks ago that I learned this about the fae.
“Without both the crown and the power, Sebastian can’t take the throne.”
It’s not over. I shake my head to clear the thought away. “I can’t have Oberon’s power. I’m just a human girl.” Before Misha can point out my error, I shake my head. “You know what I mean.”
“Indeed, I do, but you’re more than a human turned fae. Maybe you didn’t notice that you swamped the palace in darkness when you ran? That you trapped the sentries at the refugee camp in cages of nothingness?”
“Yes, but I thought . . .” I swallow. Magic is life. I knew I’d gotten to keep my powers when I was transformed into a faerie, but I never considered how this would affect the crown.
“No one knew this would happen,” Misha says.
“You seemed to.”
“We all had hunches of how the crown might pass from a mortal to Court of the Moon royalty, but no one really knew how it would work or what would happen if, say, you died without bonding with anyone who could actually sit on the throne. If you’d bonded with a golden fae with no Unseelie blood, for instance, would the crown have gone to him upon your death? It would seem unlikely, since one must have royal Unseelie blood to inherit the crown and sit on the throne. But the way Oberon was able to save you—the way he was able to surrender his life and pass the crown to a mortal— broke all the rules we thought we understood. Then there was all the discussion of what would happen to the crown if you died before bonding with anyone—there were all sorts of ideas surrounding that possibility—yet no one ever questioned what would happen if you were given the Potion of Life upon bonding with an Unseelie.”
I can just imagine them all sitting around and contemplating my death so casually. I toss a scowl over my shoulder.
Misha chuckles. “What’s the problem?”
“You knew. That’s why you brought me here. You figured it out before any of them.”
“My spies told me of the power you’d wielded at the Golden Palace, and then I saw you in action at the camp. I didn’t know for sure, of course, but my niece visited me in a dream the night we met at the refugee camp—she’s a seer, as you know.”
“Lark,” I whisper. Funny how this vast new world seems so small. I’d already forgotten that Misha is Lark’s uncle.
He nods. “Yes. She said Sebastian didn’t have what he needed to take the throne and that you were running. She asked me to give you a place to hide until you were stronger. So between the great power you’d demonstrated and her prophecy, I drew the obvious conclusion. Once Storm showed me the throne rejecting Sebastian, my suspicions were confirmed.”
“So when you say Finn and Sebastian are fighting over me, this is what you mean. They need my power.” Just as they fought to win my loyalty when I wore the crown. This will never end.
“I think it’s more complicated than that, but on the most basic level, yes. The throne wouldn’t accept Sebastian, because he doesn’t have the power, and it won’t accept Finn, because he doesn’t have the crown or the power. And obviously it won’t accept you, because—”
“Because I’m barely even fae, let alone Unseelie royalty.”
“Well, yes.” He shrugs. “But even if you were, Sebastian still wears the crown. Regardless of how this ends, those brothers need you if the Unseelie Court is going to hold together.”
“They need to kill me again?” I spin around and stalk toward the table, hysterical laughter bubbling from between my lips. “Once wasn’t enough?”
Misha refills his wineglass. “That’s not remotely what I’m suggesting.”
“I never asked for any of this.”
He narrows his eyes. “We’ve been over that already. None of us asks for the burdens we bear, but that doesn’t make the way we handle them any less significant.”
“Why can’t they just make a new throne?”
He grunts. “A throne isn’t just a seat, Princess. It’s a metaphor, and its magic is stronger than you can imagine.”
“That’s why you’re helping me,” I say softly, resigned. I reach for the bottle of wine and refill my own glass. Maybe it’s poisoned. Maybe this is all some wicked scheme to kill me so he can take my power and hand it over to Finn—Misha’s sister was married to Finn’s brother, after all. They’re practically family. Or maybe Misha wants the power for himself. I look him in the eye and bring the glass to my lips, hesitating.