Sweet Innocence and Gentle Sin || 𝐀𝐂𝐎𝐓𝐀𝐑

Chapter 15: Burn It Down

We all know how this goes, the more it hurts the less it shows.

~)(~

It was easy to convince mortal slaves to help us when every other High Fae spat on them like animals. It was also easy to cause damage when hoards of faebane were within a hundred feet of me. As a child, learning of all the various things needed to rule a kingdom, my teacher taught me about the properties of faebane and its many uses.

Because Faebane is water soluble, it was a potent poison, as it eats the insides of a fae while also consuming their magic, making it impossible to heal. In simpler terms, if a faerie consumes faebane, they melt from the inside out. Slowly—though, and only painful when it's too late. It is impossible to sense when dissolved in liquid, and alcohol especially seems to increase its intensity.

I needed to weaken the enemy forces surrounding me. The only way we could escape was if our enemy was too busy dealing with their own internal troubles to pay any attention to slaves and a traumatized princess. So poison was the best option, even if it was difficult.

I don't think I could've done it without Nalia, though. Mortals were quick to turn away when I—a High Fae—asked for help, but if another mortal asked, they were more likely to agree. And I needed their help most of all—I needed people to pass the faebane around, and slowly add it to those monsters' diet.

Nalia and I walked through the halls of the keep to meet with my uncle in the great hall for a meeting I didn't expect to be arranged. She squeezed my arm and said, "Another soldier has succumbed to the sickness that has been spreading."

I knew there were ears in these walls. There were always ears in these walls. "Perhaps they should set up a quarantine. That's the fourth death this week."

Nalia tried not to smile. "They die too quickly. It is so strange how fast the sickness takes them."

"It is," I said, smiling slightly.

Yes, men were dying—but they all deserved it. Everyone in this place deserved some kind of pain for all they've caused. We spared Lords and Ladies because the others would likely investigate if one of them died. But if a simple guard died of an unknown sickness, there is nothing to worry about. He was just a guard.

Nalia left me at the great hall, where my uncle, the High Lord of Spring, his wife and three sons, and Amarantha, were standing around the table dabbling in small talk. When I entered, the conversation stopped, and the commander bowed her head in greeting. I stood at the end of the table and reeled myself in, knowing what could be happening.

I didn't want to believe it—but my vision was most likely right. "You summoned me?" I looked at my uncle with a soft smile.

"Amarantha, you may begin," the king said, ignoring my question.

She nodded and clasped her hands behind her back. "Thirteen of my best men have caught and died from this sickness that has found its way in. Thirteen soldiers I have had by my side for decades."

"And you are angry about this because?" Theorin asked. From the look his father gave him, he wasn't supposed to cut her off.

Amarantha sighed. "I am angry because we are not investigating this further. No other soldier has caught this so-called sickness. It is only affecting my men."

"What of the ones in the east barracks? They are on the opposite side of where your men sleep, and yet they are still getting sick," I said with a lethal calm in my voice. We planned on someone catching on, so placed a flaw in that idea.