35. Chapter 35 #2
Sir Valiant looks at me with fathomless eyes and says, “Some claim the wraiths grow more clever by the day, Milady. Their goal seems to be total annihilation of the human race.”
As this news sinks in, stars begin to flood my vision.
I place a hand around Sir Valiant’s arm to steady myself as he escorts me down the remainder of the corridor.
All the while, the queen’s voice echoes in my mind like a needle scraping across glass.
All magic must have balance, my dear brother.
I fear that she’d been right. With the gods gone, the scales have now shifted in the wrong direction.
The wraiths have returned from Hell, where they are free to roam the realm uncontested.
“Are the wraiths—” I swallow. “Are they also in Skaldrathia?”
“No, Milady.” Sir Valiant shakes his head as we round the corner. “King Sylas has fortified the realm with a great barrier spell to prevent the wraiths from slipping inside Skaldrathia. But his magic is waning.”
“King Sylas is alive?” I ask, my chest constricting.
Sir Valiant clears his throat awkwardly.
“King Sylas survived the Battle of the Gods, yes,” he acknowledges.
“He is badly broken, but his healers have ensured his full recovery. You should know, Milady, that he continuously checked on you when you were asleep. He told everyone that he intended to make you the queen of Skaldrathia once you awoke, so that you might rule at his side for an eternity.”
“You’re fucking kidding me.” My voice comes out sparse.
Sir Valiant clenches his teeth. “He claims that you are his twinflame, I fear,” he trails off helplessly.
“Without you, his magic is only half its strength. In order to maintain the Veil and keep the wraiths out of Skaldrathia, he must access your power. And that can only be done once the two of you are united in marriage. Or so he claims.”
“Wonderful.” I give his arm a little pat. “Wonderful… Sir Valiant. Would you, erm, mind bringing me to breakfast? I think that I need something to buffer my stomach acid.”
Sir Valiant leads me past groups of guards posted along the walls, all of whom nod, as if nothing is amiss. As if my home country isn’t currently being ravaged by demons.
“I’m afraid that breakfast will have to wait, Milady,” Sir Valiant says, cutting a glance down at his arm, his face pinching in pain.
I suddenly realize how tight I’m gripping onto him, and I loosen my fingers.
He relaxes instantaneously. “The dragon king has specifically requested to speak with you in his private quarters this morning,” he reveals.
“Of course he has,” I sigh deeply. “I wonder what he could possibly want. More pleas for marriage, perhaps?”
Sir Valiant preemptively winces in reply, as though he's afraid I might squeeze the life out of his arm once again. It’s only after he seems sure that my hands will remain at my sides that he grabs a gold-plated doorknob to his right and pries it open with a twist, leading us outside into the courtyard.
The Skaldrathian courtyard is a river of golden-soaked flowers, with ceramic tiles painted in mosaics and a flurry of sunshine shining down upon it.
I step over the mosaic of a dragon blowing fire, dodge its fury-filled, ochre-colored eyeball, and leap around its jagged teeth.
There’s a sapphire-colored egg near its rump that I’m careful not to step on as well, only because it’s engulfed by weeds that look like they might poke me.
“I thought you said the Dragon King wanted to meet me in his private quarters,” I recall, glancing around in search of him. “But we are outside, Sir Valiant.”
Sir Valiant gives my arm a little nudge. I follow his gaze, only to find a stable with a dark horse positioned past the gates.
Hades. He’s safe.
“I have been ordered to keep this part a secret, Milady.” Sir Valiant’s voice drops to a reticent whisper as he leads me toward the stable without another word. The horse snorts and stomps his hooves as we approach.
“Hey buddy! I’m happy to see you too!” I choke out, rushing to greet Hades.
I pat his muzzle and bury my face into his mane.
Once we’re fully reacquainted, I scoop some of my tears onto my fingers.
Then I sniffle onto my sleeve. “Sir Valiant, I don’t know how to thank you—” I start, turning back around to face the knight.
“You can thank me by getting onto the saddle, Milady,” Sir Valiant explains with a little cough.
My breath falters. “I don’t understand…”
“Hades knows the way, Milady. He will take you from here.”
“But I thought that Sylas wanted to meet with me?”
“He does…” Sir Valiant trails off, chewing his lower lip in thought. “But this is much more important, Milady. I will keep King Sylas busy for you in the interim.”
“What could be more important, Sir Valiant?” I ask, surveying him suspiciously.
Sir Valiant gives me a pained look, like he wishes he could tell me.
Hesitantly, I grab onto the reins. I’m not sure what Sir Valiant is alluding to, but it must be important if he’s willing to distract Sylas on my behalf.
Plus, anything is better than being forced into a locked room with an arrogant serpent king who will likely feed me something ridiculous for breakfast, like charred fish and wyrm eggs. Gag.
“Good luck occupying the Dragon King’s attention, Sir Valiant,” I say once I’m fully seated on the saddle.
“Thank you, Milady. I will need it.” Sir Valiant turns pale.
He pats the horse, and just like that, Hades takes off like a thief beneath the blushing sunrise.
He bolts us through the open portcullis, races us across the drawbridge, and skims us past a murky moat bubbling with steam.
We sprint across the outskirts of the Meadowlark Forest, which is inundated by small countryside towns and—oh no.
A rift chasms in my heart at the sight before us.
The once-vibrant towns are now ghost towns in shambles, with sagging medic tents propped up every few miles or so.
People wait outside those tents in endless queues, clutching bowls of bone-broth soup and nursing their wounds.
I fear the war didn’t only plunder my heart, it desecrated all of Skaldrathia as well.
All for the sake of claiming me.
A woman who belongs to no one.
Hades leads us past the last medic tent pitched on the edge of the forest, in a place where the water trickles along quietly, hardly a whisper over the sound of his trotting hooves.
In some places, it runs clear. In others, it swirls murky and brown, like it’s still clinging onto remnants of last season’s sludge.
We follow it deeper into the forest, weaving around rocks and broken logs, until finally slowing to a stop near a cluster of willow trees.
Hades’s ears perk up, and his tail starts swishing.
“What do you see, boy?” I ask, patting his muzzle and looking around.
Hades huffs in response, misting the cool air with his breath.
I slide off the saddle and spin in a quick circle, searching for gods know what.
Surely, Valiant wouldn’t have sent me out here if it were dangerous. But what could possibly be going on?
The towns are no longer visible thanks to the trees blocking my view. But perhaps someone from town needed my help, and they wished to meet me deeper in the forest so that no one would eavesdrop on our conversation?
I spin on my heel again and collide directly into him. The force feels like two atoms exploding. Like two planetary orbs defying all laws of gravity, slamming into each other at unstoppable speeds, sending a shockwave reverberating through the very bones of the universe.
“You came,” he says, his voice low and gravely.
“Augustine!” I screech, folding into him without thinking.
I press my face into his chest and inhale his scent, only to realize that he smells just like he did in my dreams. In my memories.
He smells like waterfalls spilling into lagoons, the musk of worn leather after a monsoon, a campfire burning low beneath the moon.
“You’re alive!” I gasp out, praying this isn’t some figment of my imagination like Solara had been.
“I promised to never leave you again, remember?” he says, wrapping his arms around me in a tender hug.
He cups my face in his hands and drinks in my gaze, brushing a strand of hair away with the pad of his thumb.
But even with my body pressed up against his, I can’t shake the fear that he’s a phantom.
A ghostly memory of the man I once loved.
Please, gods… let this be real.
I can’t lose him. Not again.
Hades snorts.
Augustine’s gaze shifts past me toward the horse.
“I suppose you’re looking for payment,” he says, dropping his hands from my face and reaching into his bag.
Hades swishes his tail in agreement. Augustine withdraws a green apple from his bag and holds it out for Hades to see, asking, “Will this do for now?” Hades stomps his hooves happily, and Augustine tosses him the apple with a chuckle.
And then Augustine’s mouth claims me. He plants a deep, unrelenting kiss against my lips.
The kind of kiss that unravels me, strips me bare, and fills me with so much longing that I feel like I’ve simply ceased to exist. The kind of kiss that lifts me off the ground until I’m practically levitating from my body.
Until everything in my peripheral vision blurs like an oily pastel smearing across the sky. Perhaps this is what dying feels like.
Dying.
I tear away from him.
I watched him die.
“How?” I rasp out, a barrage of tears flooding my cheeks. “I watched you bleed out all over the ground. I watched you die, Augustine.”
Augustine’s face falls. “Die and leave you behind to walk through this godforsaken world by yourself? Not a chance in Hell,” he whispers, sweeping that barrage of tears away, and replacing them with a soft kiss instead.
“You defied death for me?” I gasp between shaky breaths.