Page 125 of Infernal Bonds

REVELATION

RAE

The next morning, I joined Amra in the gardens behind the palace for our lessons. She voiced her concern that I was jumping back into daily life too fast after the Feranzis ordeal, but I needed to keep my mind occupied.

Sitting at home, my mind would likely drift to two scenarios: anticipating lesser infernals showing up or obsessing over what Cyn and Zeke went through in Feranzis. I didn’t want to think about it anymore. Their fear, weakness, and helplessness deeply disturbed me, especially because I knew how much stronger they both were.

As we walked through the garden, she attempted to educate me on the families currently serving on the council and what they’d done for the Elyrdin people, but every name reminded me of what had happened the day before.

When she mentioned Cyn’s mother, I snapped the stem of the flower I’d been turning between my fingers. The memory of Lymsrana flinching when Cornaith struck Cyn across the face pissed me off.

I couldn’t recall ever hating another being as much as I hated Cornaith.

“I need you to understand something, Raelynn,” Amra said as we rounded a corner in the deepest part of the garden’s maze. “The council doesn’t take pleasure in confining Zeke.”

I scoffed.

Surely she didn’t seriously expect me to believe that? Cornaith was as close to a sadist as I’d ever encountered. He seemed to get off on making everyone miserable—including the council.

“Cornaith controls everything. And although it may not appear so, we actively prevent numerous radical decisions he would otherwise enact.”

“Such as?”

I wasn’t about to accept her words at face value.

“Well, if it weren’t for Lymsrana, Cornaith would not only make serving the Elyrdin Guard mandatory but also lower the minimum enlistment age to include children.”

I followed her, considering her words.

Cornaith wanted absolute control. The people loved him—or at least the council-modified version of him. If they didn’t rein him in, the people would see the real him. I imagined that wouldn’t go well for any of them.

What would the people of Elyrdin do if they knew Cornaith’s true nature?

Still, their choices didn’t make what Cornaith put Zeke through acceptable.

Amra stopped, tracing her delicate fingers over the petals of an orange flower I’d never seen before. “Regardless of what we’ve done or haven’t done to protect our people, if we interfere with Cornaith’s judgment, we risk our positions, leaving them vulnerable and unprotected.”

“So you’re willing to sacrifice Zeke for the… what? Greater good?” I rolled my eyes. “Give me a break.”

“No one is sacrificing Zeke.”

I rounded on her. “Are you shitting me? You allowed an adult to lock a child in a small space in the dark for hours on end to force him to use his gift in ways he didn’t want to.”

“You don’t understand.”

“No. You don’t understand.” I pointed in her face. “Zeke hates that he was born with his abilities because it’s painted a huge target on his back for Cornaith’s cruelty.”

“You think I don’t see how that boy flinches whenever my husband nears him? I’ve seen him do so for years.” She turned away and looked at the sky. “One of the things you will understand once your mates take their thrones is that the Elyrdin people come before anything. Even if we must sacrifice ourselves, we put their needs above all.”

“What do you think would happen if you stood up for Zeke? That Cornaith would direct his tyrannical bullshit on the citizens of Elyrdin?”

“No. Cornaith cares for the people.”

I truly believed he cared for Elyrdin’s people, but I suspected that concern was largely driven by his need for adoration.

“Then what? Because I’m not able to follow your logic.”

“It isn’t as if I never voiced my concerns to him.” She placed her hand over her stomach and sighed. “None of us can stop him. I know the boys haven’t told you everything, but I feel you have the right to know.”