The realization makes bumps erupt across my arms. She is worthy of the role. Arion would surely try to kill her if he knew.
“A year ago, I agreed to help you fight the giants in exchange for your support in reclaiming my throne,” she continues. “You refused open war while the queen carried her child, and I allowed it. But I am finished with hesitation. I no longer want a war. I want a coup.”
A whisper of movement stirs the candles, bending their flames toward her as though drawn to the storm gathering in her chest.
Fira shifts, hands clasped together. “A coup against your brother? Isn’t he strong enough to squash us?”
I click my tongue. Fira doesn’t recognize what she’s looking at; she can’t sense the shifting threads of divine magic woven around Mrath.
Mrath’s gaze sharpens, and then she lifts her chin, gesturing to the necklace. “I’m sure you all remember this. It is not the artifact itself, but a key to unlocking it from a hiding place only I know.”
I stare at the object and its glow, wondering where it is, truly .
Mrath continues. “My brother is not the king our god chose. TheCumhacht na Cruinnewas forged by divine hands to recognize the ruler by elemental power. When they crowned Arion, he only had the meager rights our father had bestowed upon him. For decades, his hold on the elves has been loosening. He is but a candle compared to the flames of my roaring forge. The people will follow the magic. I am sure of it.”
Teo’s shoulders tense, but he doesn’t interrupt.
“Is there a possibility he could try to kill you while you possess the artifact?” I ask, interjecting myself fully into the conversation.
She looks at me. “An army united against me could still take me down.”
“But surely you possess enough power to just enter Shvathemar and claim your throne, even without us,” I continue, testing her. I want to know exactly what she wants.
She glares at me, lips pressed together.
“What do you all know of the Throne of Living Wood?” Mrath’s voice smooths into something colder.
Teo answers next. “It’s made of the first Elder Tree and has been bound to Doros’s power since the dawn of time. He is the one who dictates the next king.”
“And all others who sit upon the throne found unworthy will burn,” I say. “But clearly, you are worthy.”
She frowns.
“The throne has been corrupted by an interloping god. The same one that has been cursing souls.”
Estela’s face turns pale. “Abhartach?”
Mrath nods. “The demon god.”
Teo steps forward. “Does the court know?”
Mrath shakes her head. “Not really. And those who do fear the power enough to pledge loyalty to a pretender. Arion hides his weakness with ceremony and the favor of his human bride. But I need someone to plant a seed, so to speak. To nudge open the door, just a bit that I might return and cleanse the throne.”
Mrath brushes her hands over the marble table. “If Arion finds out I have the artifact, he will rain down magic and steel upon my Sisterhood. I refuse to sacrifice my sisters for this endeavor. So, I just need to remain in the shadows and keep it safe for a little longer.”
I look to Teo and Estela, finding them both carefully watching Mrath, their expressions telling me they are using their mating bond to speak with each other.
“And you want our people to help you gain access to the throne?” Teo asks.
She leans forward, her smile cutting like a blade. “You already have someone in very close proximity to the throne.”
“Arlet,” Estela breathes.
“Precisely. I am sure, between my people and yours, someone can get a message to her. Something must be arranged, and then that will be my moment. When the god’s rot is banished, it will pass back to Doros. Doros will show that I am the rightful heir, and I will restore balance to the throne.”
Ulla inhales sharply. “You mean to take the seat during the wedding?”
“That is a good question,” Mrath replies, but doesn’t elaborate further.