Fearless (The Powerless Trilogy #3)

Chapter 6 Paedyn

CHAPTER 6 Paedyn

“Remember to keep your back straight. Oh, and do try to look pleasant.”

I make a face behind the dressing curtain, fully aware that Ellie can’t see it from where she stands on the other side. “Pleasant?”

I can hear the hesitant smile in her voice. “You know, maybe smile a bit. No scowling at court members.”

“But that is so much more pleasant for me,” I say wistfully. Because that is the truth, in more ways than one. It hurts less to scowl. There is no sharp, searing sensation that accompanies the downward turn of my lips. But a smile has quickly been associated with pain, leaving little joy to remain in the action.

My fingers deftly trail the jagged scar running down the side of my neck, stopping only when it reaches my collarbone and the carving beneath it. Like braille, the severed flesh tells a story. Each drag of the king’s sword is traced along my skin, embedded into my very being.

“Are you all right back there?” Ellie’s voice grows closer. “Here, let me help you—”

“No,” I order, the word harsh enough to shock even me.

The command is met with a long, unbearable silence from the other side of the screen. Until finally, a soft “Oh, okay” shyly meets my ears.

I take a deep breath, already regretting my clipped command. But I won’t let her see my marred skin, the O branded above my heart. That piece of myself has only ever been shared with Kai. And I intend to keep it that way.

My fingers fiddle with the line of little buttons cascading down the dress’s center. Mumbling under my breath, I finally manage to secure the last one. Only then, after ensuring that the square neckline thoroughly covers the branding of my weakness, I reveal myself to a fidgeting Ellie.

“Oh, it’s lovely.” She moves to step behind me, hesitating slightly. “Um, may I tighten this tie for you?”

I swallow, once again ashamed that I’d snapped at her. My apology takes the form of a slightly pained smile. “Yes, of course.”

She makes quick work of the tie, stealing my breath with each tug. “Do you think Adena would like this dress?”

Ellie’s question makes me pause, and her sudden stillness tells me that she hadn’t intended on asking it. But for the first time since her death, the sound of Adena’s name doesn’t feel like a twisted knife to the gut. No, I want to remember her like this. See her in the stitching of a dress or in the rays of the sun. Watch her shine through every second for as long as I remain breathing the air she no longer can.

I glance at the mirror beside me, studying the planes of the dress. “She’d like the color,” I say softly. Ellie’s relieved breath tickles the back of my neck. “She would say that the deep blue brings out my eyes. But Plague knows she’d ensure the skirt was… ugh, what would she say?” I stare at the draping fabric until my eyes are crinkling with sudden recollection. “Voluptuous. That’s the word.”

Ellie giggles softly, stepping beside me to examine the dress fully. “Yes, that does sound like her.”

I run my sweaty palms over the tight bodice, avoiding my own gaze in the mirror. “Come,” Ellie says softly. “Let’s make those blue eyes pop even more.”

She ushers me to the vanity, where I sit stiffly atop the cushioned bench. My lashes are soon lined with coal, face powdered, and bruises concealed. She paints my lips a deep red, perhaps to match the blood forever coating my hands—

My breath catches at the comparison my muddled mind has made. I keep my gaze lowered after the jarring thought, hiding from my own reflection in the mirror. Because I’m scared of what I’ll see there. Will it be the broken girl staring back, or the traitor queen I’ll soon become?

“Paedyn?”

“Hmm?” My gaze lifts to Ellie, finding her staring at me in question. “Sorry, did you say something?”

She smiles comfortingly. “Yes, I asked what you wanted me to do with your hair.”

“Oh, um, just leave it.” I nod distractedly. “It will help cover my scar.”

Another sad smile. It’s not the first she’s given me. “Right.” Stepping away, she scans my face. “You look…”

Ellie trails off, and that worries me greatly. “What? If I look ridiculous, please tell me.”

“No. No, not at all.” Her gaze lingers over the length of me. “You look… hardened, in a way.”

Those words don’t surprise me. But her next ones do.

“In fact, you look like a queen.”

I spin my father’s ring beneath the massive table, if only to distract myself from the foreign one now encircling a nearby finger.

Shifting in my plush chair, I sneak a glance down the length of wood to find that nearly every gaze is already pinned on me. I lift my chin slightly before mustering a cool facade as my only defense against so many prying eyes.

The colossal table sits in the center of the throne room, and even despite its impressive size, the court is thoroughly cramped around it. My gaze climbs from the expanse of dark wood until it lands on…

Comfort. Relief. Him.

Gray eyes flick between mine, soft in that way they only are when looking at me. That tether between us grows taut, heavy with the weight of so many unspoken words. But even the strongest of ties wear over time. It will be the slow death of us, spending every day alongside each other but never truly together.

Kai’s gaze tears from mine when the looming doors swing open.

Every body clumped along the table’s edge clambers to its feet when the king enters the room. Having spent my life learning how to blend in, I quickly stand alongside them. When my eyes lift to find Kitt, it’s his brother they find their way back to—a repetition of the past I can’t seem to escape. His black tunic is cut close to the body beneath, inky like the ebony waves that fall over his brow. As if feeling my gaze, he pulls those strong arms behind his back and tosses me a quick wink.

I dip my head, hiding the twitch of my lips. Then I tuck our moment into that quiet part of my mind, right alongside the others. Just in case we never get the chance to share another.

Kitt strides to the head of the long table, where Kai flanks his right and I his left. It’s only after the king lowers himself into his extravagant seat that the court follows, numbly sitting back into their own.

“Good afternoon,” Kitt greets warmly. “I’d like to first thank you all for joining me in this meeting. I know there is much to discuss and even more to answer.”

The sheer kingliness he exudes is still jarring, in a mournful sort of way. I miss the carefree boy he was before a crown was pushed onto his head. Before I pushed him to be like this.

But his very life has led up to this moment, this ruling of a kingdom. And it suits him more than I could have imagined. Or perhaps it’s my revived hope for Ilya that has me suddenly looking at him with respect rather than revulsion.

Everything changed in that study, history unwritten and loyalties reformed. Kitt seems equally as unenthusiastic about our engagement, and I warily wonder about his feelings for me. How much does the king despise me for killing the father he once cared so dearly for? Our marriage will be nothing more than a political union, but if we are meant to spend the rest of our lives together, I hope to restore some semblance of the friendship we once had. That is, if he even wants it.

“To begin, I will first address the terrible misunderstandings we all believed to be true.” Kitt’s gaze travels around the table. “I hope then that the reasonings behind my decision will become clear.”

I take a deep breath, straightening my spine like Ellie suggested. But I don’t, however, arrange my features into something that resembles pleasantry. Instead, I remain stern, feigning strength in the face of a kingdom so eager to cut me down.

“Decades ago, Healers claimed to have found an undetectable disease hidden within the blood of Ordinaries.” Kitt’s voice carries, sounding so much like the king before him that I nearly flinch. “With prolonged exposure, that disease was said to weaken the powers of Elites. And since becoming your king, I have discovered this story to be a lie.”

Chaos erupts around the table. I sit silently within it, my heart pounding as Kitt’s liberating words hang in the air. I never thought I’d hear the truth from a king’s lips.

I lean in slightly, searching his face. But he doesn’t meet my gaze, doesn’t glance in my direction at all as he states, “Seeing that Ilya was such a weak kingdom before the Plague, King Edric did what he believed was best—banished the Ordinaries. He did this to preserve our Elite strength, offering a story that the Healers eagerly backed. You—the people—needed little convincing to rid our kingdom of those lacking power.”

Confused glances are thrown around the table, followed by hushed accusations. The king’s voice cuts through them all. “My father strengthened our kingdom greatly in the past, and for that, we should all be thankful. But now he has unwittingly weakened us by cutting off our resources, leaving me to do what I must to save us.” A long pause, a sinking in of words. “So we will welcome the Ordinaries back into Ilya.”

My lips twitch into a smile.

After decades of lies, us Ordinaries deserve a far grander reveal, a proclamation across the kingdom. But this is the best apology an Elite king will give. So I revel in it.

Kitt’s words spark an eruption that ripples down the table. Men and women of all ages push to their feet, shouting incoherently as the world they once ruled now shifts beneath them. Kitt raises a hand in a feeble attempt to regain control. But the chaos continues its destructive course, forcing me to dodge a flying elbow to my right.

“If you wish to lose your tongue, by all means, continue speaking over your king.”

Kai’s casual threat carries across the room, clamping shut even the most eager of mouths. With one final glance at the court, the Enforcer gestures casually to his king, urging him to continue.

Kitt’s green gaze brims with gratitude. He looks at Kai like he once had—like a brother. But the moment passes too quickly. Without warning, he’s suddenly morphed back into a king addressing his court. “I know this is an adjustment. I was shocked to learn of my father’s deceit, though it benefitted us all. He was a harsh man who would happily kill for power—as do most kings. And after speaking with Calum, I realized that the Resistance was simply a voice for those harmless Ordinaries.” He lets the words sink in before uttering more. “Banishing them, as my father once had, strengthened our city once. Allowing them back in now will do the same.”

My ears ring slightly as I release a shaky breath. I never thought this day would come, never imagined living in a world where I no longer had to hide what I wasn’t. Kitt may only be allowing Ordinaries back in Ilya to appease the surrounding kingdoms, but it is a start.

A man shoves to his feet across the table, and my eyes fall to the pin of Ilya’s crest that names him the court’s spokesperson. His head of mint hair is next to draw my attention, followed by the words he utters evenly. “Even without a disease, they’ll dwindle our power if we reproduce with them.”

Them.

I hadn’t realized my hands were curled into fists beneath the table until my nails threaten to draw blood. “Over time, maybe,” Kitt was saying. “For all we know, there may be benefits to mixing the blood of Elites and Ordinaries. But you will find that Ordinaries willing to procreate with an Elite are few and far between.”

Questions begin flying around the room, echoing off the many marble pillars framing it. “And what about her?” My head snaps toward the shouted accusation to find a bearded man pointing his thick finger at my face. “What about your heirs? Will you taint your royal line with the blood of an Ordinary?”

My stomach twists, lungs suddenly too tight beneath the constricting fabric of my dress. Kai jerks to his feet and nearly topples the chair behind him. I stand too, readying myself to step between my Enforcer and the man testing his patience.

“Enough.” It’s the king who says this, defusing Kai with the stern word. “I will not have my judgment questioned, nor my future lineage. If the heir to my throne possesses less power, then so be it. That is a small price to pay for a thriving kingdom.”

His words should startle me more, but I’ve always known of Kitt’s love for Ilya. That alone is why he’s willing to sacrifice power. Not for the Ordinaries. Not for me.

A woman stands on heeled shoes, her gown pristine. She is the perfect picture of Offensive Elite privilege. “None of this changes the fact that she is a criminal. A king killer!”

I can’t help my wince at the uproar that follows her words. Hands rise in objection, their voices doing the same. My gaze slowly climbs to Kitt, awaiting what words he strings together. It’s my life—or rather, my imminent death—that he now holds in the palm of his hand.

A terrifying realization courses through me, heating my cheeks with the blood Kitt likely wishes to spill. He must ache to grant these shouted requests for justice. After everything I did, he was going to kill me. That is, until I became useful to him.

Kitt’s voice is even, eyes expertly avoiding mine. “Paedyn was defending herself.” It’s a simple, defiant explanation that no one will dare oppose. “My father suffered a deep blow to the head during the chaos before stumbling into Paedyn. Due to his injuries, he was confused and not at all in his right mind. In his hazy state, he came after her, forcing Miss Gray to defend herself against him. Now, I will hear nothing more on the matter.”

The scar above my heart sears, as if to remind me what truly happened that day.

“… I will leave my mark upon your heart, lest you forget who’s broken it.”

My eyes fall to the fisted hands in my lap. They shake slightly, rippling the blue fabric beneath. I can feel the imprint of the sword’s hilt, remember the exact amount of pressure used to drive the blade through Edric Azer’s chest. Feel the flick of a dagger, the release of a bowstring, the plunging of a sword.

Every death I’ve doled lives in the lines of these hands. And I fear who will find themselves beneath their next calloused touch.

“Fliers will be distributed throughout the city.” I blink back to the present, Kitt’s words filling my muffled ears. “They will announce our engagement to Ilya, but most importantly, to the surrounding cities. I will send messengers to Dor and Tando while searching for a way to deliver the news to Izram. On these scrolls will be what we spoke of today, every reasoning and explanation. In two days’ time, we will host a parade in celebration. And any remaining Ordinaries within the kingdom, or anyone outside it, for that matter, are to be welcomed.”

Mouths open in unison around the table, but the king is speaking before sound is able to escape them. “That will be all. Thank you for your time.”

I can practically hear jaws snapping shut at the dismissal. Kitt then stands, and after a moment of hesitation, extends a hand to me. My eyes slide to Kai, even as I slowly reach for his brother. But he doesn’t look at me. No, the Enforcer’s gaze is on the palm I’ve placed atop the king’s, growing darker with every second our skin grazes.

And as we stride from the room, hand in hand, I will Kai to meet my eyes and read the message within them.

Pretend.