Page 138 of Foundling

With a nudge, she admitted softly, “I think so. It was in the moment and I just thought…a little to help them. I don’t see a reason to take it back. And…” She laid her hand over her chest, not rubbing, but gently pressing. “The pressure isn’t so bad.”

He was heartened to hear it. Perhaps a solution, simpler than they imagined, had been before them all along. “Perhaps royal fae in the past were strong enough to shoulder a larger burden for the Queen, but other fae might bear some weight, too.” Maybe not as much, but some. And there were far more ordinary fae, some even with royal blood in their lines.

Leita’s hopeful look was tentative. “I hope so.”

Attalus pulled her in tight to kiss her temple. “We’ll make it so,” he promised.

She tilted her head back to meet his gaze, her expression growing somber. “There’s much to say, but know…I’m sorry.” She didn’t have to specify or explain.

He laid his cheek atop her head, rubbing her silky if smoky hair. “You broke my hearts, doe. Both of them.”

Her wince was gratifying, but Attalus found he didn’t really want her shame or regret. He just…wanted her and her trust.

“I can’t lose you, azore,” she told him just loud enough so that only he could hear. “But I let the fear of that rule me, and it wasn’t fair to you.”

Hearing her say it loosened the worst knots of his own anger and fear. Leita was who she was after centuries of survival—that couldn’t be overcome in a few months. “I hope today proves that I can stand beside you.”

“It’s proven many things,” she agreed. “You were so heroic, swooping down like that and fighting off your brother.”

His hearts swelled with pride, plastering over the cracks. He puffed out his chest as his hand slid down Leita’s back to cup her hip in a possessive hold.

“Indeed, I was. If it wasn’t for your mercy, I might’ve slain the anax. By the old laws, that’d make me king.” Leita’s eyes widened, but Attalus grinned cockily, feeling Araxos’s livid gaze fix on him. “What do you say, agae? Should you like to be a queen twice over?”

“Don’t be a shit,” Araxos grumbled.

“I wouldn’t be so liberal with the insults if I were you, sevastos ader.”

“I think ruling two lands would be a headache,” Leita said.

Araxos snorted, and, after dismissing a finally upright and utterly humbled Erastus, he sauntered over to meet Leita and Attalus.

The anax’s throat worked, as though what he had to say stuck there and needed dislodging. “You have my apologies, Queen Leita. I never intended for it to come to this.”

“What were your intentions, then?”

“In truth, I…” Araxos rubbed at his head. “Now that the mercury no longer clouds my mind, I can’t say I remember.” He frowned at them without truly looking at them. “But it seems there is a traitor in my court, perhaps a wider plot.”

“Such plots are insidious and painful to root out,” Leita sympathized.

“Indeed.” Looking Leita up and down, Araxos seemed to come to a decision. “I hope, with time, Highhome and Fallorian may put this behind us. I will send proper tithes for the dead.”

“And what about Attalus?”

Araxos sighed, squinting at him. Attalus sneered back.

“The poison you pulled from me clearly isn’t wolfsbane, and so there’s no real evidence against him.”

“It also sounds like you agree you owe me your life, anax.”

Araxos huffed hot air. “It would take more than that to kill a Savrakae.”

Which begged the question whether killing him at all was the true intent of the mercury poisoning.

“Still, if you wish to make amends, let’s do this properly. There’s no reason my mating Attalus can’t be treated as a royal alliance.”

Araxos regarded Leita shrewdly. “What are you aiming for, Fae Queen?”

Attalus would dearly like to know, too.