~16~

Lyria was beyond furious. She was absolutely enraged. How could any of this be happening? This was not going according to plan. None of her plans included this! What on earth was she meant to do with this new information? It wasn't like she could just give up now, she had come too far, come so close that she could almost taste victory.

But now? Now she didn't have a clue what was going on. It felt as though her carefully laid plans were slowly sliding through her fingers, disappearing into the mist and she didn't have a single idea on how to fix it.

And she had to find a way to fix her plans somehow, adjust them, make them better, for she was not about to give up on her revenge now – not when she could sense all of the effort she had put into her plans for revenge had started to come to fruition. She was so close to succeeding that she could almost feel it.

At least some of her plans had been put into place before this latest hiccup had occurred. So far the only plans that had some chance of succeeding involved Sam Cortland and Dorian Haviliard. Lyria had not been terribly impressed that day that Athril had barged in on her having sex with Sam, but she also knew that she would be able to use his misconceptions and assumptions against him. It had been the matter of moments for her to realise that Athril thought that she was abusing Sam, but when it came down to it, that wasn't the full truth. It wasn't even half the truth, as far as she was concerned.

Yes, at first, she had merely been using Sam for her own gain, her own profit. She had been using her compellability magic on him to make him agree to her plans, to make agree to becoming her sexual plaything. But what very few people knew, what Athril didn't know, was that if she used her compellability on a human for long enough, they would become totally immersed in it and she was able to keep the cloak of magic on a human almost permanently, no matter the distance between them. And if the cloak of magic was to be ever removed from the human, their mind would be forever damaged, and they would not be able to survive without her. Not that they would want to live anymore anyway.

And that had become the case for her and Sam Cortland. He was a weak human, weakened by the years of his imprisonment in the Assassins Guild. Weakened by the torture he had endured at Hamel's hands. And all of that opened him up to her as easily as slicing into butter. Sam Cortland had been totally under her control when Athril took him away from her, thinking that he was 'saving' Sam from her. But Sam hadn't been saved, Athril had been doomed.

It was because of her bond with Sam that she knew Athril knew about the wedding between her and Dorian Haviliard, and that Athril and the Thirteen had decided to flee north to Terrasen and had taken Sam with them. Which was exactly where she had wanted Sam to be, for obvious reasons. The one way connection she had with Sam made it easier for him to gather information about the royal court of Terrasen for her.

Now, Lyria thought, her plans for King Dorian Haviliard were really quite devious in fact. So simple minded in its brilliance. Over years of research, Lyria had discovered that placed her magic on a human male at the very moment of the binding effect in the inherent magic of a wedding ceremony took place, then the human man would be forever bound to her, his mind almost entirely enslaved by her. Whereas her normal brand of compellability magic usually left the human with some small level of free will that they were barely able to act upon, the marriage version of it left him with none. As of the moment Dorian slid the wedding ring onto her finger, Lyria controlled every single one of his thoughts, every single one of his actions. Unlike Sam, Dorian no longer had any private thoughts that Lyria couldn't touch, no more free will. His mind and will had been completely subsumed by Lyra's mere presence.

Yes, Dorian's resentment toward his friends had been growing for months, but in a way that only made it easier for her to slide in and turn those resentful thoughts into thoughts of anger. Where Dorian had once been a reasonably decent and considerate young king, now stood an angry young man who hated everything his kingdom, his people, his friends and their kingdoms stood for. In other words, here stood a young man with nothing but bloody vengeance on his mind.

But her using her magic on Dorian currently served more than one purpose. With Dorian's sense of self being wiped away and his essence being replaced with her will, Lyria was effectively the King of Adarlan as well as its Queen. The position of absolute power that she currently enjoyed because of it was one that she intended to milk for all it was worth. The politicians and nobles that were falling over themselves to gain her favour, the size of the territory she now ruled over, the armies and navies that she now commanded, all of that power was incredibly intoxicating, and she had no intention of ever surrendering that power.

Now, Lyria thought, all she had to do was decide what course of action to take in regards to the correspondence she had just received. She stared down at the letter she had just received in a mixture of confusion and distaste.

A contact of Lyria's, had written to her to inform her that that Rowan's cousin, Endymion Whitethorn was to visit Terrasen. This contact of hers was in fact the closest thing to a friend that she had ever allowed herself to have during Rowan's absence from her life, but that did not mean that Lyria trusted her completely.

But Lyria also could not allow her cousin-in-law to set foot on this continent, not yet at any rate. Better for him to wait a few months until Rowan was safely back in her arms before there was any sort of a reunion. Especially as she had seen Endymion several times over the centuries. She was fairly certain that he had never recognised her, as she had grown adept at disguising herself, but she had once used him and flirted with him shamelessly to gain whatever information she could about Rowan.

Lyria was not ashamed of her actions. She would never be ashamed of herself. At every step of this journey she had done what was necessary to kill Rowan's little harlot who fancied herself a queen, and bring Rowan back to her. Ever since Rowan had left her two hundred years ago, she had done whatever it took to bring Rowan back to her. And she would continue to do whatever it took to bring Rowan back into her arms, no matter the cost.

On the other hand, Lyria felt as though there was actually very little she could actually do, as Endymion was likely already at sea. Well, if she couldn't innocently harm the male at sea, then she would have to just act after his ship landed, Lyria thought. A mild sedative or poison would surely work the best for her purposes. As Lyria had reason to know, food poisoning could be the absolute worst thing ever.

As Lyria continued plot ways to prevent Endymion from setting foot in Terrasen in the foreseeable future, she had no idea that her enemies in Terrasen were also plotting. And in their case, they were plotting her downfall. This was a game of scheming and political manoeuvrings that neither side intended to lose.


As the innermost members of Aelin's court sat around the large table in the palace's council room, Aelin frowned at the Fae male who had only just arrived from Doranelle the day before. "And are you positive that this was a good idea?" Aelin repeated for what must have been the third or fourth time in less than an hour.

"Your Majesty should show a bit more respect to foreign envoys," Darrow quickly interrupted before their guest could speak. "I know your parents and great uncle raised you to be better than that. Better than this."

Aelin fought the urge to roll her eyes. Despite Darrow's recent attempt to make peace and end their feud he still couldn't stop himself from making little digs at her. Not to humiliate her and put her down as he would have done before, but more to remind her of her own failings and as a reminder not to waste time as it was her life on the line.

"It's perfectly fine, Lord Darrow," Endymion Whitethorn said pleasantly, though Darrow failed to notice that he was being frowned at. "In Aelin's position, I would likely be just as paranoid about it as well. It's her life, and the lives of my cousin and their unborn child on the line, after all. I would think that she has every right to be afraid right now."

Darrow frowned a bit at that hearing Endymion call Aelin by her given name, clearly disapproving. But when no one else mentioned anything about, he was forced to keep his opinion to himself.

"It's a sound plan," Aedion murmured softly to Aelin. "At least this way Lyria will be focused on our ports, and not immediately on the inland and mountains." Rowan nodded in agreement.

"He's right, you know," Rowan said quietly, gently taking Aelin's hand. "As long as she's watching the port cities, she won't be watching us here in Orynth."

"Despite that being true enough, that's not what I'm worried about right now," Aelin muttered unwillingly.

"Then what is it?" Aelin wasn't sure who this gentle question came from.

"It's what he was saying about Sam likely still being under Lyria's thrall," Aelin muttered hurriedly, seemingly determined to get it all out now that she had started. "What if Sam is still spying for her? What if he is still able to communicate with her somehow? What if merely keeping him locked in the dungeons isn't a good enough deterrent? What if he somehow manages to escape? With him here, so close, we're in more immediate danger than we were in before. What if, deep down, he wants me dead as much as she does? What if—"

"I'm not sure you entirely understand how Lyria's magic works," Endymion interrupted gently. "I'm not a hundred percent sure on how it works either, but I'll give it my best shot."

"Then just hurry up and get on with it," Darrow growled. It was late and he was tired and cranky and just wanted to go to bed. "Just because you are used to staying up all night long, doesn't mean that the rest of us are."

"As I was about to say before I was so rudely interrupted," Endymion continued simply. "Lyria's connection with her human victims is strictly one way. She can telepathically communicate her thoughts and wishes – instructions if you may – with them from up to many miles away. But they are unable to communicate with her the same way. From what I understand, Sam is still locked in the dungeons, so the only way he'll be able to get any information to Lyria is if a guard is bribed to run messages south to Adarlan."

Rowan just stared at Endymion, still holding Aelin's hand. Too much. His cousin knew too much about Lyria's powers. Far too much for a supposedly casual observer. Powers that he hadn't even suspected existed. Powers like Lyria's weren't even meant to exist, not really. The closest thing to what Lyria could supposedly do was what Maeve had done. And it had turned out that Maeve wasn't even Fae. Was Lyria even Fae, or was she Valg like Maeve had been?

"Does Lyria's control over her human victims ever fade?" Aedion asked, speaking for the first time in minutes. Despite himself, the thought of what Lyria was doing to Sam, to Dorian made him feel positively sick.

"I wouldn't know," Endymion shook his head. "Her control over Sam might fade someday, but it would be incredibly hard for him to shake it off by himself. But what she's done to Dorian Haviliard – the marriage version of it, is significantly stronger, to the point where I highly doubt that would ever fade naturally. The connection would only break when one of them dies."

The meeting broke up shortly after that, and they all went their separate ways, most of them to bed.

Rowan, however, was still feeling disturbed by how much his cousin had known about Lyria's gifts, and said as much to Aelin as they walked slowly back to their suite.

"Oh, don't be so ridiculous," Aelin grumbled tiredly. "After Lyria supposedly died, you were stuck in Maeve's court for years. Endymion wasn't, he might very well have been able to pick something up then."

"No one could possibly pick up that information from several different sources," Rowan retorted sharply. "Not even Enda."

"Nice to know that you have so much faith in me, cousin," someone sadly said behind them. Turning around, they saw Endymion standing there, looking crestfallen.

"Oh, is that the time already?" Aelin asked, glancing at the nearby clock in a mock-surprised fashion. "I'd better get off to bed now, goodnight!"

As Aelin began to hurry off, Rowan started to follow, but then Aelin stopped him dead in his tracks. "Not you," Aelin hissed at him. "I wasn't talking to you. In fact, I figure you'd better have a talk with your cousin, sooner rather than later."

"She's a smart young woman," Endymion smiled nostalgically as he watched the young queen hurry off. "I never did think that Lyria was the right woman for you. Aelin is."

"Get on with it," Rowan growled lightly. "You already know what I want to know. You already know what I need to know."

"How I know so much about Lyria's powers and abilities, when you never even knew the same things about her?" Endymion probed carefully. He knew he was treading on thin ice.

When Rowan didn't reply, Endymion simply continued. "Because about a hundred and fifty years ago, a woman approached me in Doranelle. Fae. I didn't know who she was, but she knew all about me. And about you Rowan, you and Lyria. Like I said, I didn't know her, so I was rather surprised by all her questions about you. But after I'd known her for a couple of decades, I'd realised that there had been something familiar about her at that first meeting. It took another few decades for me to realise that the woman was in fact Lyria, but disguised somehow, hiding her true appearance, her true identity."

At this news Rowan started, staring in shock. "What…? How…?"

"I don't know," Endymion shook his head. "I have no idea how any of this came about. As far as I was able to tell, she somehow survived that ambush in the mountains, but suffered a miscarriage. After that, she became rather obsessive about winning you back, Rowan, assuming that you were kept away from her on Maeve's command only. She had no idea that you thought that she was dead. She became very delusional over the years. After you 'abandoned' her in her eyes, she became a very dangerous woman. I can only assume that finding out about your marriage to Aelin and the pregnancy tipped her over the edge into full-blow psychosis."

"Why did you never tell me any of this before now?" Rowan asked, sounding rather strangled.

"Because I didn't think you were ready to face it," Endymion said simply. "Because finding out the truth then would only have broken you more than you were already broken. You know what you were like then. Besides, I was afraid that if you knew the truth that you would go back to her. And Lyria never deserved you. Not in a million years. But I do wish that I had spoken before now. If I had, then maybe none of this would have been happening."

"Maybe, maybe not," Rowan said somewhat dismissively. "But it doesn't matter now that it's happening. We just have to deal with it – face it head on."

"If you really want to know, I have a really good idea for getting information out of the boy in the dungeons," Endymion said slyly. "Seeing as Lyria doesn't yet know that he's been captured."

By the time Endymion was finished explaining his most recent idea, Rowan was laughing his head off hysterically.