28
After Rokath and Rapp departed, Kiira remained with me, promising to show me around the most private wing in Gyor Palace while Xannirin went off to rule for the day. Not like I’d stay here for long, but I could enjoy the luxuries before I departed with Rokath and the rest of the army.
If I could relax knowing what lay ahead for me. While I’d grown accustomed to army life, facing the males I had known as Vagach, and being the lone female among hundreds of thousands of males twisted my stomach into knots. Rokath would protect me, supposedly, but he would try to cage me too.
I just wanted to be free.
“And here,”
Kiira said, interrupting my worried thoughts, “is Xannirin’s private garden.”
Opening the doors, we stepped out onto a balcony with a stunning view of the Skala Mountains. To me, that wasn’t the best part. No, it was the sprawling plants, tangling and blooming as far as I could see. The lush scent of their flowers. The slight buzz of insects flitting about them.
It felt like home.
And right at the front were lush Bordova roses. Unable to contain myself, I hurried forward to study them. A breathy giggle slipped out of Kiira as she joined me. “Beautiful aren’t they?”
“Yes,”
I breathed, brushing my hand over the waxy leaves, careful not to touch the sharp thorns. The color was exquisite, a deep purple with the barest hint of red, and it smelled divine. Inhaling deeply, I savored the familiar floral aroma.
Olrus’s face flashed through my mind. Stepping away from the plant, I let one tear fall and then I swiped it away.
“What’s wrong?”
Kiira asked gently.
I shook my head. “Nothing important.”
“If you are crying, then it is important.”
She paused, studying the roses. “I know you don’t like the priestesses, and when you’re ready I’d like to hear more about your experience. We are here to listen to your pain and help you rid yourself of it so you can move along your path.”
“Why do you care?”
I snapped, unable to help myself. I still hadn’t slept, though my mood had changed slightly after the decadent meal.
“About you?”
she asked, hiking her skirts and stepping closer so she could run her fingers along the soft petals.
I threw my hands in the air. “About me, about any of it. You are cousin to the Kral and to Rokath. You are the High Priestess, responsible for all religious life in the Demon Realm. Yet you speak like you care about each of us individually.”
“Everyone deserves to feel seen,”
she murmured, leaning down and sniffing the lush bloom. “You mentioned Vagach’s abuse. I care for you because I too suffered at the hands of a male. My father, actually. He would have killed me eventually. It is because of Rokath that I am still alive.”
Sympathy softened my shoulders, and when she straightened, she looked me square in the eye. “What is it that you want, Assyria? Truly?”
“Why? Are you going to help me get it?”
I quipped.
She raised a brow and crossed her arms. Then she cocked her head as she studied me again. “It depends on your answer.”
I huffed, planting my fists on my hips, and looked at the clear blue sky. I had wanted a mate that wouldn’t oppress me like Vagach did. I still wanted to have at least a petal of control over my life. That, at its core, never changed.
“I have far more clarity on what I don’t want,”
I replied. My long hair whispered over my shoulders as I straightened. “I don’t want to be a broodmare. I don’t want to be forced into a relationship with another abusive bastard. I don’t want to suffer anymore.”
The last sentence slipped out with a ring of quiet truth.
Kiira relaxed and breathed a long sigh. “And if I could speak with Rokath and Xannirin about one thing you can have, what would you want that to be?”
“Would you really do that?”
I asked her, cocking my head to the side.
“If you give me your truth, I will.”
I picked at one of my nails, considering her offer. Then, I gestured to the terrace. “In Stryi, I had a garden like this. It was my only solace, being married to Vagach. Though toward the end, I couldn’t bring myself to care for the roses. Olrus, our groundskeeper, did the best he could to keep them alive. He was my only friend, and he helped me after I killed Vagach. I simply wonder if he’s okay. No one else can die because of me.”
A sob lodged in my throat as I spoke the last sentence, and I fell to my knees from the weight of my grief. Kiira joined me on the ground, wrapping me in a tight embrace. She stroked my hair, making soothing noises in the back of her throat. “I’ll send a message along with my acolytes going to Stryi. I’ll have Xannirin sign off on it too, ensuring he is well taken care of. Olrus won’t have to worry any longer if you are safe either, and he can pass a message back.”
Lifting my head, I studied Kiira through blurred lashes. “Would you really?”
“Of course,”
she soothed, using her thumbs to swipe tears from my eyes. “I am sorry about the whole situation, Assyria. It is not an easy one. The Weaver has a plan, and the Giver blessed you with this unique magic. I find comfort in knowing there is a reason for all this pain.”
“Well, I don’t,”
I admitted, my voice no more than a whisper.
A soft, sad smile pulled at the corner of her mouth. “Perhaps the Fates will show me why now that I have seen and gotten to know you.”
Pushing to my feet, I asked, “Priestess Anara always spoke of your gift with such awe. But I thought only Angels had the gift of prophecy?”
“They do,”
she said, brushing her hands over her dress. “The Fates offer me direct access to their plans, albeit infrequently, unlike the Angel Seers. My magic is different.”
“Like mine,” I said.
“Like yours. Like Rokath’s, like Xannirin’s, like Rapp’s. Like all others with burgundy eyes.”
Holding out her slender arm, she said, “Let’s tour the rest of the garden. There are some lovely places to prop your feet with a book or some tea.”
No one had ever offered me comfort like Kiira had. Or cared to see me like she did. Despite our earlier animosity, I found myself looping my arm through hers. We strolled along the winding, haphazard paths, some overflowing with thorny plants, others with bushes trimmed into neat shapes. As promised, several nooks awaited, with outdoor loungers, soft cushions, and spots of shade to escape the harsh sun. There, gardening tools abounded, and I approached a wall lined with them, running my hands over the finely crafted metal.
“Do you think the Kral would mind if I cared for some of his plants?”
I asked Kiira.
“No, and you can refer to him as Xannirin. There’s no need to speak to any of us so formally. You’re family now,”
she replied, tucking her long, loose hair behind her ears.
“But no one can know that,”
I pointed out.
“Er, well, yes. For now.”
A wide grin split her face. “But when the war is over, we can have a grand celebration to welcome you into House Vrak.”
I smothered the grimace at her idea. The only reason I was complying now was because Rokath needed to save us all from the Angels. After that, I wasn’t putting up with him any longer. Our deal would be done, and I’d be long gone.
Reaching for a pair of gloves and other tools, I filled a bag with everything I thought I might need, then hefted it onto my shoulder. Kiira slid by me and grabbed a pair of her own. “I will join you. It’s so nice to have another female around, even if you don’t want to be here. I know my cousins can be… difficult. Probably better than anyone.”
She nudged my side as she stepped away. “That’s why we must work together to keep them on the right path.”
I shifted from foot to foot, unsure what to say. Thankfully, Kiira saved me. “Do you have an idea of where you’d like to start?”
“The roses,”
I said shyly. “They are my favorite.”
“Lead the way.”
She gestured for me to continue, and I wound us back toward the front, where the beautiful Bordovas waited, along with a few other varieties. From the bag, I pulled two cushions and placed them on the ground, saving our knees from the hard stone. Then, we set to work.
Silence reigned while we clipped and pruned, giving the plants room to breathe and flourish. The Bordovas fully cared for, we moved along to another variety, common to the Demon Realm, and repeated the process.
“Tell me why you don’t like the priestesses,”
Kirra prodded when we moved onto the third bush. “Truly, I want to know. Like Rokath, I try to lead the faithful along a holy path, though I am not always successful. Unlike Rokath, I don’t see the majority of my troops on a regular basis.”
I sighed and clipped one long stemmed rose, then brought it to my nose and inhaled deeply. Handing it to Kiira, I said, “Priestess Anara used to hold me down while Vagach coupled with me. They both thought that her presence would fill my womb with a babe. For eight years,”
I gritted my teeth against the swell of heat pricking my eyes, “I never fell pregnant. Though I didn’t want to. I didn’t want any of it. But I was trapped.”
Swallowing, I focused my attention on the next snip, trying to avoid the thorns through my blurred vision. “Before that, though, she would cane my knuckles for questioning the Fates, and thereby, her authority.”
A watery laugh slipped out of me. “I was never awarded high marks because of my insolence. My sister–”
I had to pause and suck in a breath as serrated as the knife slashing across my heart at the thought of her. “My sister used to beg me to hold my tongue. But as you witnessed, that is not something I ever managed to do.”
A warm hand rested on my back, and I felt Kiira’s eyes on me. Still, I did not look at her. “Vagach didn’t let me see them after we were married. Until they were dying. My father went first. Then my mother. Then my sister. I thought she was going to pull through, but she took a turn for the worse and passed within the day.”
A tear fell onto the soil for each of them.
“Assyria,”
Kiira’s voice was soft and filled with sorrow. “Look at me.”
Blinking rapidly, I did, swiping the back of my wrists over my eyes. Kiira’s burgundy ones mirrored my own, shining and reflecting my anguish back to me. “I knew Priestess Anara was strict with her flock, but her participating in Vagach’s raping you is unacceptable. For that is what happened, Assyria, and you do not need to minimize your experience. I shall send for her immediately and replace her with someone who understands that as much as females are to carry offspring for the future of our race, that it should happen willingly between both parties. I am so, deeply sorry that all of that happened to you, and I understand now your loathing for the priestesses, the Fates, and our house. My words cannot fix anything, but perhaps my actions can.”
“Thank you,”
I managed to choke out.
Kiira swept away the wet tracks on her face and cleared her throat. “And what of the Vezet??”
A sob wrenched its way from my chest. “He discovered my true identity weeks before. He wanted to protect me. He died protecting me. Before Jaku walked in on us,”
I paused, heat flashing to my cheeks, “on the verge of coupling, he asked me to marry him. Promised that he’d keep me safe by sending me to live with his family. That we’d be together once the war was over.”
Kiira took my hands, giving them a squeeze.
“He was kind. Thoughtful. Showed me that pleasure was possible with intimacy. I will miss him.”
The last words whispered out of me, and the slash in my heart that belonged to Izgath throbbed.
A fresh wave of hot, salty liquid spilled down my cheeks, and I closed my eyes, trying to fight off more.
Kiira wiped them away with a familiar tenderness. I opened my eyes, studying the sincerity etched on her face. “How do you do it?”
A sad smile bloomed, one that didn’t reach her eyes. “I often struggle with my position as High Priestess. I am a bastard daughter of House Vrak, and although my father never sired more children, I haven’t always felt like I belonged in it. When Xannirin took the throne and Rokath the army, I was a natural choice for the third pillar of our society. To further their plans, though, I’ve had to sacrifice more than I would like. I see the necessity of it, but when I hear stories like yours, my heart aches for the ways in which we must achieve the ends.”
“I didn’t realize you were a bastard,”
I murmured, sitting back on my heels and pulling off the gardening gloves. “Is that why–”
Kiira shook her head, cutting off my question. “No, the previous Kral and his brothers were extremely cruel by nature. Sadistically so, in fact. Rokath, Xannirin, and I all bear scars from them, in some way. Though their stories are not mine to tell. Your story is safe with me too, you know.”
“I feel it,”
I admitted freely.
She squeezed my hands again. “Rokath cares deeply about the people he loves, though he is quite adept at hiding it. He chooses not to show his emotions like we do. I will do my best to make up for the ways in which my cousins are lacking. You don’t deserve to suffer any more than you already have.”
“Thank you,”
I croaked, then cleared my throat and dried my tears.
Kiira offered me a grin that was both sincere and filled with mischief. “I want to tell you something that I managed to do that I’m quite proud of. Something I convinced my cousins to allow.”
“Oh? What was that?”
I asked, unable to help myself.
“The children of the fallen females are not allowed to be treated as bastards. They receive full privileges of their sire’s house.”
She bloomed as bright as the roses speaking of her accomplishment.
“I like that,”
I said, offering her a soft smile in return.
“So you see, Assyria, we can enact small changes from the inside. Perhaps that is why the Fates brought you to us, so that you can point out these injustices that happen outside my knowledge. Because of you, I will send out my priestesses with warnings to stop this practice.”
Kiira pulled off her gloves and set them aside.
Something that felt a lot like contentment blossomed in my chest. Maybe Kiira was right, and by being mated to Rokath, I was able to save others from the pain I had endured.
But could that be enough for me?
“Come, let’s get something to drink before the midday heat wipes us out,”
she said, rising to her feet.
Knees protesting, I did as well, tucking our gloves and tools into the bag and hefting it over my shoulder as we returned to the palace’s cool interior. I left it at the door while Kiira called down the hall for drinks and a light midday meal.
“Do you not want to pray?”
I asked her.
She cocked her head to the side, studying me. “Do you want to?”
“Not really,”
I admitted. And then, a laugh burst from us both.
“We can rest on the loungers, and you can tell me more about your family,”
she giggled, steering me to a different part of Xannirin’s chambers.
We spent the afternoon there, talking endlessly, Kiira filling me in on the inner workings of the nobility who resided in Uzhhorod, her life as High Priestess, and a few of her fond memories from childhood, while I shared the same, speaking of my pastoral life, my sister, and what I had learned in the army. As the hour grew later, we moved to Rokath’s chambers, but he did not return.
By the time the sun dipped below the horizon, our bond was like a violent itch, so insistent that it drowned out any other thoughts that I might want to have. Kiira, sensing my fatigue and inattention, excused herself to return to Varbad Temple after our third meal of the day.
Once she departed, I scoured every room in Rokath’s apartments for some alcohol, hoping to numb the pain and put myself to sleep. Finding a half-empty bottle stashed in a cupboard in the bathing chamber, I unstoppered it and whiffed.
Spice assaulted my nostrils, reminding me far too much of my mate.
But this was my only option. So, holding my breath, I tipped a mouthful of the liquid into my mouth and forced it down. With a hiss and a cough, I pulled the bottle from my lips. My tongue burned, all the way up to my nostrils, pulling water to my eyes.
The effects were almost immediate, so I took one more drag, then tucked it away again. Two should be more than enough. Half-stumbling, I returned to the bed, stripping out of my dress and climbing into it. It was massive, large enough that should Rokath return, we’d never have to touch each other. Selfishly, I settled myself in the center of it, closing my eyes and taking a few slow, deep breaths to settle my mind.
Thankfully, between the alcohol and the events of the last day, sleep sank over me and pulled me off to a land where everything was better and I was free.