Dean nods. And then he asks what I have dreaded. "Was it true? Did you really kill our father?"
"No," I say, studying his eyes, looking to see if he believes me. His gaze is hard, unyielding, so I continue. "I did not kill Lucian. But I did drug him. He spoke to me of freeing all the Fae, of making them our equals. It did not sound like him, and it did not sound possible without destroying our way of life. So I drugged him, intending to restrain him, see if his state of mind would return to normal. However, he did not go unconscious; instead, his symptoms were those of death."
"Symptoms?"
I nod. "Our father is alive. I learned later from Asher, and Arianna as well, our father took a potion to fake death. Then he fled to the Fae, with whom he has an alliance. Together, they plot to the bring the Fae to power once more, to restore balance between our people."
Dean frowns, chewing on his lip. "But why fake his death, why resign the crown? Why not be Vampire King and Fae supporter?"
"Arianna," I say, her very name warming my blood.
"Ah, of course. When he gave up the throne, the contract of his will came into effect. Then we did the rest, bringing Arianna to this world. With the Midnight Star returned, the Druids awakened, and the Fae grew in power. Our father truly is a genius. A madman, but a genius one. Still…" He looks out at the horizon, where the tips of Stonehill begin to appear. "Why the change of heart? Why care for the Fae?"
"Arianna told me he does not. There is some other game he plays. One that requires the Fae to be at full strength."
Dean laughs, slapping his thigh. "Now that sounds like good old father."
I see in his eyes that he believes me. That is good. I will need all the allies I can muster in the coming days. "So, what is your public stance on the council?" I ask.
"Publicly, I support hunting you down and sticking your head on a spike." He winks. "But privately I just want Arianna to pick me as the new king so everyone can stop acting like babies and just let me rule."
He chuckles, and I know he wants his words to come off as a joke, but there is truth in them he cannot hide.
"Arianna…" I say, the reality hard to muster. "Arianna will not choose me. I do not wish to be king, and now that Inferna knows I have Fae blood, they do not wish it either."
Dean snickers. "Please, none of that matters to Arianna. Hell, the Fae blood might even be a perk. Lucky bastard."
I know he seeks to cheer me, but it does not change the truth. Arianna must choose someone else. Someone who will save this world.
For a while, we do not speak, and I listen to the crunch of snow beneath hooves, to the winter birds singing in the trees. In time, men and women being to appear on the muddy road, most wearing gray rags and carrying bags. They travel opposite to us, away from Stonehill and its walls. "Quite the exodus," remarks Dean as a woman avoids his horse. "Personally, I hope they’re heading to my realm. Except that one. That one looks boring."
"Keep your voice down," I say, speeding up my horse. "To these people, you don’t have a realm. You don’t have a throne. To them you are but a traveler. Let us keep it that way, shall we?"
"Very well. Perhaps we need codenames then." Dean smiles, ideas playing in his eyes. "I will be Rump. And you can be… Dump."
I shiver. "Sometimes, I wonder if you even understand the things you say."
"What?" He recoils, looking shocked. "Something wrong with the names?"
"Everything, dear brother. Everything."
The gates begin to loom ahead of us. Many leave the city ahead, but a few try to enter as well. A Shade wrapped in blue robes and jewelry covered with rubies and diamonds is stopped in his path by a guard. The soldier is not one I recognize, not one of my men, though he wears my red colors. "No Fae allowed in the city," he says, raising a spear.
"Excuse me, but vampire runs through my blood," says the Shade, his speech of high nobility.
The guard spits at the man’s feet. "Half Fae, all Fae. Turn around and leave before I make you."
My stomach twists at the sight before me. My blood runs hot. This is not the way of Stonehill. The way of my people. I reach for my sword, but Dean grabs my hand. He shakes his head in warning.
I clench my jaw, but do nothing as the guard kicks the Shade to the mud. Again and again. After a moment, the noble man finally crawls to his knees, and trudges away from the gate.
As the man passes us, I motion to him, and flick a coin into his hands. "For the journey ahead," I say.
"Thank you," he says. "I am glad there are some who still respect our ways." And then he vanishes into the mass of people on the road.