Page 193 of Commanding Blood And Bonds
I raised a hand, halting August. Kade’s teal gaze snapped to mine.
“There’s a woman—Magnolia Green of Hazelharbor—about to request an audience with The Six. I can’t disclose her aim, but she has Aren’s blessing. She’ll write within days. See that she gets a meeting. Quickly.”
Amusement danced behind Kade’s eyes. “I can't guarantee the outcome.”
“That wasn’t the request.”
His grin sharpened. “I’ll see that your witch gets her meeting.”
THIRTY-SEVEN
COMMON GROUND
FREYA
When Aren assigned Rhiannon Hadriana’s diadem—the supposedly illustrious heirloom of a once-beloved Bellpost queen—I assumed tracking down information would be simple. After all, how difficult is it to find information about royals? Their egos ensured they were well documented, and the fanatics that followed them bent over backward to preserve every detail.
Hell, according to Reyna, the Hadriana bloodline had been one of the most deliberately curated weapons on the planet before her death.
Her…death. Where—allegedly—a queen so powerful they'd crafted a ruby-encrusted diadem—crown, tiara, circlet?—as a conduit for her magic, was murdered…by mortals?
The math wasn’t fucking mathing.
Which was spectacularly disastrous, as beyond that, we had nothing. The revised Bellpost tomes held no mention of their rightful ruler, and neighboring hierarchies focused almost exclusively on her husband, Koa—AKA ‘the cruel king’ or Koa the Conqueror—and her father before that. Her name was barely more than a footnote, sandwiched between the men who dictated her legacy.
Ahh, to be a woman.
My fingers drummed against the thick book beneath my arms as my eyes blurred from one too many hours hunched over Reyna’s library table like a shrimp. Straightening, I sighed and locked onto a pair of bright caramel eyes and a shock of messy blond hair.
“Want a lolli?” Blaz asked halfheartedly, popping his sucker out of his mouth and twirling it like I needed a visual aid.
“No, you child,” I scoffed, shoving his feet off the table. He just snickered.
“What? Gotta keep the brain working. No sugar, no worky.”
Gesturing to his casual sprawl and the abandoned books on his side of the table, I pointed out, “You’re not doing much in the way of work, by the looks of it.”
“I was waiting for you to come up for air.”
“Sure.”
“I was! You had that look about you—the one my mother gets when she’s so focused she’ll rage if you interrupt her.”
“Do us both a favor and slide your blade across my throat the next time you contemplate likening me to your mother.”
With a snort, Blaz shifted the book from his lap onto the table with a resolute thud, then slid it in my direction. “Pages are missing.”
“What?!” I barked, lunging forward. “I’ll be damned.”
Sure enough, multiple pages had been torn clean from the spine. The section before discussed the fracture of the mother hierarchy into twelve smaller pieces. The section after mentioned a dwindling family line. Everything in between was gone.
Some deep crevice of my brain itched in protest. I thumbed to the back of the book and flipped through the glossary. As suspected, the line of succession should’ve been listed in the missing section. A snarl slipped from my throat. I pressed my fingers to my ears, trying to dispel the sensation of something crawling in. Unsolved puzzles made me twitchy, but a whole bloodline torn out of recorded history?
Fucking monstrous.
Worse yet, Bellaton’s original souls were direct descendants. If anyone should have had proper documentation, it was them.
“This is all your mother had?” I bemoaned, still rubbing at my ears. The world muffled and roared back in alternating waves.
