“As he walked into the Dark King’s house, he realized just how wrong hewas. The floor was covered with the evidence of the Dark King’s fury: broken furniture and glass, bits of paper, a half-charred log from the fireplacethat looked like it had still been burning when it was thrown. The debris was ankle deep in places. A thistle-fey huddled against the wall with a strange expression on his face. As the faery turned, Seth realized that a fireplace poker had beendriven through the faery’s thigh an...d pinned him to the wall. It hadn’t been obvious at first because it was so deeply embedded in the wall that onlythe handle was visible. “The king is in mourning,” the faery said. “I know.” Seth gestured at the handle of the poker. “May I help?” The faery shook his head. “The king shouldn’t suffer alone. It is an honor to be in pain with him.” “You did this?” “No. My king did.” The thistle-faery leaned his head back. “I didn’t understand how I should feel at the loss of our last king.MoreLessRead More Read Less
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