Born To Rule

Chapter Twenty-Eight

After healing Balis a fraction, Eurok departed to fetch Sidelle, leaving us to find our own path to the inn.

Every step I took dismantled and chipped away at the remaining shreds of my composure. But I kept my back straight, maintained my utterly bored expression, and walked ahead of my injured druid guard, determined to appear indifferent—apathetic to the trickles of precious crimson, to his pain as he hissed through his teeth. While I wanted to rush through these streets, it would’ve revealed too much. The king probably had spies all over the city.

The few individuals we passed on the lamp-lit cobblestone streets glanced between me and the trailing druid. Their curiosity was piqued by the sight of a Vylandrian guard accompanying a human. They seemed more preoccupied with this unusual pairing than the blood they carefully sidestepped.

How Balis ever made it, I’d never know.

I sat on a stool beside his bed, watching his ragged breaths. With every passing minute, my mood oscillated between uncontrollable rage and paralyzing concern. I thumbed through a stack of rags with shaky hands, grabbed a small piece of cotton fabric, then blotted at the blood oozing from the shallow gashes across his skin. The deeper ones that covered his back were nothing but muscle and fascia peeking beneath strips of bruised, swollen flesh.

Eurok and Sidelle took turns healing the worst sections, but the process was incredibly painful, and the stubborn bastard refused to pass out. He hissed another sharp breath as Sidelle lifted one of the garlic-soaked cloths to peek beneath.

“He won’t be able to handle much more healing tonight,” she said, reading the question on my face. “Looks like he’s in for a long night.”

My lip curled in a snarl as I dabbed at the trail of blood dripping down his side. “You’re so fucking stupid.”

“And your bedside manner is shit, so I guess we’re even,” he rasped, attempting a bit of levity.

It didn’t work. All I thought about was how labored the words were as they escaped his barely parted, dry lips.

I tossed the blotchy rag into the pan of rust-colored water, sending splashes over the sides and onto the floor. I braced my elbows on my knees and let my head drop into my hands, staring at the single droplet that landed on my foot.

Sidelle and Eurok had all but tied me to a chair to stop me from leaving. Their cool tendrils of power had only just released their heavy weight on me. Once I saw reason, they convinced me to stay by reminding me that the high-bitch was valuable. Killing a high witch and granddaughter of a druid council member would end badly for all of us. War was, after all, what we were trying to avoid.

“Mira,” he breathed, “look at me.”

I shook my head, unable to meet his eyes or unravel the tangled web of rational and irrational thoughts plaguing my mind. How could I express how angry I was while he lay there, wounded and bloody, for attempting to protect me?

Protect. Me.

My throat tightened, and I strained to keep in the sob threatening to escape. I was furious with the king, yes. But Vitany? I ground my teeth. She shredded his back to ribbons, stained those halls with the blood of her own kind—and I wanted her head for it. I wanted to watch her life fade from those glittery, deceitful eyes.

“Why couldn’t you just let it be?” My resolve snapped, fire lacing each word. “None of this would’ve happened if you stayed out of the way like you promised.”

The wooden chair scraped against the floorboards as I shoved to my feet. I paced in a tight circle, unwilling to leave his side but unable to suppress my fury any longer.

“I know.” He winced as he lifted his head, angling his neck to see me better. “I don’t deny that.”

Concern wracked my chest, putting a pause on my rage as I helped him adjust his pillow.

“But I also said I wouldn’t let you out of my sight. And that if he harmed you,” he grimaced, “I had no plans to hold back. I would’ve torn through every door, dismantled every brick of that castle to find you. When your scent ended outside his bedchamber and I couldn’t sense your energy, I–”

His full lips pursed as he glanced at Eurok, who leaned against the small desk in the far corner. Something in the captain’s expression cut his words short, and I hated him for it.

Sidelle walked over and stood beside me with crossed arms. “What do you mean you couldn’t sense her energy, Balis?” she asked, then looked at me for the answer.

I took a deep sigh, trying to match my focus with the shift in the conversation, even though I still wanted more from Balis. “The king has a secret solarium,” I said, facing her. “It’s hidden behind the fireplace in his chambers.”

Sidelle’s onyx eyes widened. “Really? And he showed you this?”

I nodded. “I was thinking about the ash weapons—perhaps they’re connected to a plant.”

Eurok took up a place beside Sidelle, his shoulder slumped in concern. “Have you come across anything like that?”

She shook her head, her long silver hair brushing her arms. “No, but it’s safe to say I’m no expert. I can ask Agatha. She’s an herbalist. Or maybe Saura.”

“Would either of them have knowledge about plants from other kingdoms?” I asked.

“They might be less familiar, but it’s possible.”

Eurok rubbed his jaw. “There are thousands, tens of thousands–”

“If only we could pinpoint it somehow,” Balis said in a drowsy drawl.

Sidelle shook her head in pure dejection. Then, with quick strides, she paced to the desk and returned with something in hand.

A journal.

“You found it?” I stepped forward, retrieving the supple leather book, then flipped through it.

My face dropped. The pages.

They were blank.

“What is this?” I asked.

Her expression was crestfallen. “It’s written in a Heliac script,” she answered. “An ancient text deciphered only by the light of the day it was penned.”

She held out her hand in a silent request. I passed it to her, and as she flipped through, the faint scent of old paper wafted up. At a quarter of the way in, she tipped it, providing a clear view.

Today’s date was written on the top in delicate script. Except the year, which was dated almost a millennium ago. There was a brief journal entry below it.

Father left for Vylandria today in hopes of furthering magical trade relations with the druid council. I shall prepare for his return by ensuring Annorah and I have concluded this ridiculous disagreement. She has yet to leave her room.

I read the words out loud for Balis to hear. His furrowed brow was an exact match to mine.

“I don’t understand.”

“Heliac script is used by the light god. Many of his devout priests learn it well,” Sidelle said.

“It means,” Eurok cut in, “that even though this journal likely contains the answers to everything from the ash to Annorah’s sacrifice, we can’t read any further ahead than one day at a time. It will take us a year for us to study it in its entirety.”

Fuck.

We commissioned a carriage to transport Balis back to Vylandria. Sidelle and Eurok insisted I ride with him while they continued on horseback. Whether they thought it was where I preferred to be, or because Sidelle worried I’d run off and sever Vitany’s head, I wasn’t sure.

Before we left, Balis drank a potent mixture of poppy milk and lavender to ease him into a dreamless sleep. The ride was mostly silent, and I spent every few hours changing the garlic coverings over his wounds. His injuries improved since that first night, but every time I exposed his back and discovered a new lash I hadn’t seen before, rage surged like a serpent beneath sea waves.

He never should’ve come looking. So what if the king killed me? I wasn’t worth this. I wasn’t a damsel in distress who needed a hero. Balis was more valuable to Vylandria’s plight than I ever would be. His people needed him, and he put his life on the line for me.

Pain leached into my bones at the thought of shutting him out. He’d been something of a safe harbor since I met him, a still force to brace myself against while chaos raged. To be honest, I looked forward to spending more time with him during our training sessions, finding solace in the ease between us amidst the madness.

But Eurok and Sidelle had been right to dissuade our… attraction, I guess. Whatever one could call it, it was best kept out of the equation. It was a distraction, a dangerous one Vylandria couldn’t afford. My life wasn’t worth the risk, powers or not. If I wanted to make a difference, this absurdity had to stop, no matter how much it hurt.

Balis took a ragged breath, drawing my attention. His eyes fluttered open and searched haphazardly, then locked on me. A weak smile found the corner of that perfect mouth. The easy relief in his expression almost capsized all the resolve I spent the last twelve hours reinforcing. A cold, ill feeling churned in my stomach.

“Where are we?” he asked.

“Half a day from Raven Ridge.”

“Have you been here the whole time?”

I nodded. “Sidelle and Eurok made me. I think they’re worried I’ll run off again.”

Something like disappointment dampened his expression, and the first fissure of pain spiderwebbed across the brittle surface of my heart. He licked his dry lips, and I reached for the waterskin lying at my feet, lifting it to his mouth for him to drink. His eyes didn’t leave my face as he did.

When he finished, he said, “Talk to me, princess. There’s something on your mind.”

Replacing the top on the waterskin, I laid it down and sat back against the plush cushions. With my arms crossed tight, my pensive stare focused out the window on the world passing by.

“Mira, what is it?”

I took a deep breath, then released it slow and smooth, steadying myself for the inevitable conversation. “What you did—almost cost your people everything.”

His brows pinched, and I swallowed against the urge to take it back, to lean forward and run my thumb along that furrowed brow, smooth it, maybe even kiss it away. These were the thoughts I had to eliminate, the part of me I now had to battle while rebuilding the barrier within me that he chipped away at. His forest-hued eyes stayed steady, focused on me.

“That night on the balcony? Eurok told you he needs you.”

“The captain and I will work it out,” he said. “I’m sure he knows exactly why I did what I did. He’s the one that sent me after you, remember?”

“He also told us to keep our feelings out of it.”

“And now you agree?”

“I agree that it’s unfair to put this,” I gestured between us, “ahead of everything.”

“Mira,” my name on his lips was breathy, airy, as if he sensed my intention, “don’t. Don’t push me away.”

“Eurok was acting like a hypocrite—but he’s right. Whatever this is, it’s a distraction from what matters. You’re catching feelings that you’re willing to act irrationally on.” My hands trembled, my heart stalling, but I kept my voice steady. This was how it had to be.

“Are you saying you have no feelings for me whatsoever?”

My breath grew shallow, my throat tight. “No, I’m saying that it’s because of my feelings that I think you should leave. Once you’re healed, I want you to leave, Balis.”

The pain etched into the perfection of his face was a mallet to my brittle, cracking heart.

“You can’t get rid of me that easily, prin–”

“I mean it, Balis.” My words sharpened, cutting his off.

“Mira.” My name again, a whisper, a plea.

It broke me.

Unable to speak, fearing the sting in my eyes would give me away, I stood and left the carriage.