Page 25 of Light Fae's Love
“And possibly even Lucca,” Quinn says, as darkness churns inside him now. “Lucca is not the King’s only heir. King Archivolio Bellari has many bastards borne of other Fae noblewomen—if Lucca dies, one of his younger half-siblings would become Prince-heir. Like Emiliana once controlled me, King Bellari is not above placing others in harm’s way when Lucca is rash. When the headstrong prince is rebellious, people get hurt—and Lucca knows he is the only barrier between his father’s vicious madness and all the innocents who cannot tolerate Archivolio’s atrociousness as well as he can. Thus, Lucca stays as a barrier between the King and the others he might harm, damn him. Until his father beats someone else to death to make the populace turn on his brightest, most rebellious son.”
“Beats someone else to death?” I stare at Quinn, horrified. I set my fork down, my appetite gone. “Who has King Bellari beaten to death before?”
“His wife,” Quinn says, regarding me with a dark sadness now, as if it is a tale he does not like to dwell on. “He beat Lucca’s mother to death for Lucca’s rebelliousness when we were just fourteen… and Lucca will take that scar with him to the grave.”
“My god.” I weep inside at this horrible secret Lucca has hidden for centuries. Hidden not just from everyone else, but from me also, as he’s never told me anything about his mother.
My heart gives another series of wretched, dangerous beats—aching for him.
“God has nothing to do with it,” Quinn says, closing his eyes as I feel Lucca’s ancient pain rise now through our bond, exposed by Quinn. “Lauria Massi Bellari tried to protect her son from Archivolio wailing on him with his magical whips of light. When she rushed in, his next lash severed an artery in her neck and not even palace healers could stop the flow of blood in time. Some say it was an accident; but I was there. I saw the rage in Archivolio’s eyes. Someone was going to die that day to prove his point about being disobeyed—and the magical lash he cast severed Lauria’s neck to the bone. He meant it for a child. That strike was meant for a boy, Ariana… it would have beheaded Lucca. Now Lucca carries the weight of her death, always.”
“My god.” I am horrified. Just when I thought King Archivolio Bellari couldn’t get any worse, I hear about this.
And hate him all over again—to my deepest, darkest fundament.
“Why was Lucca’s father so furious with him?” I ask now, knowing I need the full tale for Lucca’s sake, even though it’s agony to hear. My dark rainbows blossom through the room now, swirling as they mourn for Lucca.
“Lucca was found consorting with me.” Rage churns inside Quinn now as his darkfire energy matches mine, swirling through the dining area with furious flashes of crimson and gold flame. I feel how this is the deepest reason he hates the Summer Fae’s current King, though it’s not the only one. “I was the Summer Fae Prince at the time and could not be punished for whomever I spent time with. As my Darkwatch shadow, Lucca was supposed to be learning how to protect me, not fucking me. His father was head of the Darkwatch at the time and felt it prudent to teach Lucca a lesson. Nothing can stop Archivolio’s rage when it gets going, and he was determined to have grand-heirs by Lucca. Or dispose of the disappointment in his family line.”
“So what do we do?” I ask as I twist inside, my heart breaking for Lucca. “Because if we try a Revenant demonstration without Lucca, it could go disastrously wrong. If we don’t do it, we lose our treaty and I go back to being on the Fae’s Most Wanted. If we do the demonstration with Lucca, though… everyone will see our bond, including his father. And Lucca will lose his revolution and possibly his life.”
“A conundrum.” Quinn nods, finally bringing me in to the center of his plan. “I believe there’s a way to subvert it, though. You see, Archivolio is enchanted by power. He likes it, he likes having it, and he likes being aligned with it. If we demonstrate enough power, he will make note of it—and consider how currying our goodwill increases his own might. Even his son’s goodwill.”
“King Bellari would think twice about hurting people to punish Lucca,” I say, blinking.
“Indeed.” Quinn’s true cunning comes out now as a hot whip of his old Summer Fae magic flashes inside him, blossoming in a wave of crimson and gold darkfire through the room. “King Bellari knows he still has Lucca under his thumb, because of Lucca’s love for his people and his guilt over his mother’s death. He knows Lucca returning Revenants could build his army, rather than just Lucca’s. For until we find a solution for Lucca’s situation, he will remain tethered to his father out of terror. Not terror for his own life, but terror for the innocent. Like I was to Emiliana.”
I think back to Lucca being made to stand by his father’s throne in disgrace in golden handcuffs, and hesitate. I know I have to ask my next question, though, as despair fills me.
Because I already know the answer.
“Does Lucca still take beatings from his father when he disobeys the King?”
“Lucca’s flesh heals well, and his father does not burn sigils into him like my Master once did, but yes.” Fury rises in Quinn now as he pins me with his wrathful gaze. “Whenever Archivolio gives him a choice to take punishment himself versus someone else taking it for him, however, Lucca does. Or did you think those golden manacles he wore a few weeks ago were merely pretty adornment?”
As I burn with love and awfulness for both Lucca and Quinn now, I feel Quinn’s dark energy flicker with a terrible fire for what he and Lucca endured over the years. Because they were the same; both trapped to people who dominated and hurt them, unable to escape because of how many innocents would suffer if they did.
Lucca and Quinn both bear deep wounds, not just from what they went through with each other, but from what they’ve gone through in life—wounds that make them cagey of love now. As I finally get it, a wave of grief moves through me.
My eyes burning with tears as everything inside me cries for them.
“Do not cry for us, Ariana.” Quinn leans in and clasps my hand. I feel him hold himself away from that precarious brink of emotion, because someone has to right now. “Help us fix it. Your magic has the power to expose the truth. Help us expose who King Bellari is—a power-obsessed, murderous tyrant like my Master once was. Let us pave the way for Lucca to be his own man—and to free his people from oppression.”
“How do we do that?” I brush my tears away now, focusing on the moment rather than the ancient past, and what we can do to solve this situation. “Any way we approach this demonstration, we’re fucked.”
“By pissing Lucca off and doing the demonstration anyway,” Quinn says, as subtle cunning rises in him now. I realize that Quinn’s plan is already in motion, by making Lucca furious this afternoon and causing him to storm out, though that was not his original intention. “Lucca will be at his father’s side as we do our showing for the King. If he does not take part in our demonstration thanks to his ire with me right now, my guess is our power will go wild. He will have to step in and steady it, and then the demonstration will be a success. King Bellari will know Lucca is instrumental in our trio’s achievements, and he therefore cannot kill his rebellious son or harm others to punish him, but will have to court Lucca’s alliance to stay on the throne. Lucca will have bargaining power at last with his father. And you damn well bet we’ll use it.”
“To get the Fae rumor-mill working in Lucca’s favor concerning our bond.” I understand, as the entire plan comes crashing home for me.
“And have the King himself endorse Lucca’s new bond to us.” Quinn nods. “We use the King’s own love of power to take him down. And get Lucca on that throne instead.”
As I stare at Quinn now, marveling at his Machiavellian plot, I feel a spark of hope light inside me. It lights in him, too, as he places himself in a position of trust now rather than dominance—trust that I’m behind him in this.
Quinn has to trust Lucca, too, though; not just the years of history between them, but his knowledge of Lucca’s deepest character, to pull this off. I understand that at his core, Lucca is not just a charming prince, but Prince Charming—always doing what’s right and noble, even when he hates it.
Quinn lifts his wineglass at me and I follow, clinking with him in a silent toast.
Our plan is good, even though Lucca is going to hate it.