Crown of Shadow and Bones

Thorns of the Court

Elara couldn't breathe. The air in the glen had grown thick and heavy, stifling beneath the collective gaze of the fae court. The fae who surrounded her moved like shadows, ethereal and impossibly graceful, but their eyes glinted with malice. She didn't belong to this world, not like they did, she could feel that in her bones. She was an intruder, a reminder of everything they despised.

And they weren't going to let her forget it.

The woman who had spoken—tall and unspeakably beautiful, with raven-black hair cascading down her back and wearing a gown that shimmered and sparkled like the night sky—stood at the forefront of the group with her gaze locked on Kael. Power radiated from her in waves, and Elara could feel the tension crackling between her and the fae beside her.

Who is she? Elara wondered, the weight of the woman's hostility pressing against her chest makng it hard to breathe. She wasn't sure if she should be more afraid of the woman or of the expression Kael wore—a sinister smirk that didn't reach his eyes, a mask hiding something darker.

The woman's lips curled into a sharp, cutting smile. "You overstep your bounds, Kael," she said, her voice cold and filled with belittling authority. "Your father won't be pleased to hear that you've taken a necromancer under your wing. Especially her."

Elara stiffened at the venom in the woman's words. Why me? The question echoed in her mind, but she had no time to dwell on it as Kael stepped forward, placing himself subtly between Elara and the rest of the court.

"She's under my protection, Celyndra," Kael replied smoothly, folding his arms across his chest. "I suggest you and the others accept it."

The woman—Celyndra—arched an eyebrow, her dark eyes flashing. "Your protection," she scoffed, her voice dripping with disdain. "You think the king will allow you to shelter a necromancer? A creature whose very existence threatens the balance of our realm?"

Elara felt the word creature cut through her like a blade. It took every ounce of restraint not to lash out, not to let her fury unravel into something dangerous. She had been called many things before—reckless, foolish—but creature? It was as if the court saw her as little more than a pest to be eradicated.

"She's not a threat," Kael said, his voice steady but with an edge that promised consequences. "Not unless you make her one."

Celyndra's smile deepened, though it held no warmth. "Always so eager to play with fire, my dear son."

Elara's breath hitched. Son. The realization struck her hard. Celyndra was Kael's mother, and from the way the court shifted around her, it was clear she wielded considerable influence. More than just family tension simmered between them. There was a power struggle at play, one that made Elara's position feel even more precarious.

Her eyes flicked toward Kael, studying the way his posture stiffened ever so slightly, the way his jaw clenched briefly before he spoke again. "I'm not playing with fire, Celyndra. I'm protecting it. There's a difference. A forest fire is a treat, but a lit hearth is a gift."

Elara's stomach tightened at the cryptic words, her gaze darting between the son and his mother. What was Kael truly protecting her from? Did he even understand what he was risking by defying his own family on her behalf? Could she just stand here while this family got ripped apart because of her? No, something in the way they addressed one another told her this feud had been brewing for years.

Celyndra's eyes gleamed with amusement. "You're playing a dangerous game, Kael. Your Father won't be as forgiving as I am."

"Forgiving?" Kael's voice dropped lower, taking on a sharpness that sent a chill through Elara. "You've never been forgiving, Mother. Only conniving."