3. Sybilla
Chapter 3
Sybilla
W ithout knocking, I pushed Emmerick’s bedroom door open.
He had practically worn a track into the carpet from his pacing. A ring of shining golden light formed in his irises when they found me, as though anger ignited the power in his veins.
The new Sun King. A Source-wielder. Immortal.
And I’d known and never told him for over a decade.
Em stilled, throat bobbing, arms tensed at his sides. The rise and fall of his chest was the only movement in the room.
“Leave us,” I told my personal guards who had trailed me up the stairs.
“My Queen, Sir Emmerick—”
“King Mattock,” I corrected.
The guard wavered. “Well...Yes. King Mattock is angry. It may be better if someone stayed to—”
“That was not a suggestion,” I snapped. Fucking insubordination.
My guards gave a shallow, reluctant bow before leaving us. The door closed, and all that filled the silence between us was the bubbling sensation of Em’s boiling resentment. It took all my restraint not to let his emotions overtake mine—they were so strong. So volatile.
Emmerick had lived here since he had become my guard as a teenager. Every ounce of this space was filled with him—from the burgundy quilts to the collection of wooden figurines that his father had carved for him, to the table in the corner where he cleaned his weapons. He had branded himself on the space. I’d never be able to enter this room again without thinking of him.
I wanted to run into his arms as I had so many times before. I imagined wrapping my arms around his neck and leaning in to smell the rosemary of the soap he liked to use. His embrace would be all the peace I needed, yet he offered me no comfort today.
I’d let him down in such a stupidly selfish way.
His lips drew into a taut line, and his jaw locked into a pained grimace. I knew that look.
He was angry, yes, but what I felt roiling off him was fear, too.
“Em…please,” I said, my voice cracking. I didn’t know what I was pleading for.
His breath deepened. In, out, in, out. I shut down my senses fully, not wanting to feel the claw of his disappointment. Unveiling whatever awful thoughts lurked behind that scowl would have been simple. But now wasn’t the time to wound myself.
He hated when I slipped into his mind and invaded his privacy, and I hated the thought that he might loathe me. I couldn’t bring myself to face that.
So, I stood and awaited his words—they would likely be sharp and cutting, but this man would never lay an unkind hand on me.
Emmerick had been my best friend since we were children. Even as we’d warmed each other’s beds in recent years, I’d clung to his friendship most. If he was never my lover again—I could handle that. The thought of not being his friend? That raised the hairs on the back of my neck.
“I am supposed to be by your side, protecting you. Let me go with you.” The vulnerability in his words lashed through any last shred of my defenses. He placed his hands on his head, fingers digging into the hair at his temples that he frequently pulled when his nerves ran high.
Fuck.
“Emmerick,” I whispered. “I don’t have a choice. I am not allowed Luz guards, and you are no longer my Constable.”
Normally, I would rib him, say that I didn’t need his protection even though I very much did. He’d prevented countless attempts on my life...and now I would leave him to enter my ancestors’ enemy’s territory.
“I go where you go, Syb. That’s always been the case.”
I shook my head. “This place—me and Luz—was always a detour on your path to greatness. You have been here for too long already.”
That had been my fault.
He took one step toward me. His jaw slackened, and a tear ran down his cheek, looking like a crystal on wet sand. It shone in that same eerie gold as his irises.
Closing the distance to him, I placed a hand over his heart.
“You lied to me.” The word “lied” hit me with deliberate weight.
I tried to raise my hands to his cheeks, but he gently caught my wrists and pushed them back down to my sides.
The glass castle I’d fortified around myself was shattering one pane at a time. There had been so many chances to tell him who his father was. But to tell that truth would have been to lose him. To acknowledge that he was immortal and would long outlive me would have been to admit he deserved a love that could outlast my time.
So, I’d held onto the facade of his mortality. I’d never allowed him to grow into a King because I wanted him near me. Why would a King who could live forever anchor himself to a Queen who would grow old beside him?
“Em...I’m so sorry.”
Now that I was closer, his fear tasted coppery and metallic—it felt like suffocating on one’s own breath.
“Those words are empty. If you are truly so sorry, then don’t go—be his ally from here. Stay with me. Why do you insist on going with him?”
I sighed. “That prick has things I need. We need. You know it’s only a matter of time before every town in the Central Corridor looks like Kullworth—a slum. The magic in his land gives us leverage, hope.”
“ Us ?” Sounding skeptical, he searched for my gaze.
I avoided eye contact as Darvanda’s words echoed in my mind. Marry him if you must.
I knew in the depths of my heart that I couldn’t let Em marry me—not when he was bound to lose me, not when he could potentially find an immortal woman to accompany him through eternity.
“Yes. Us. This alliance can help strengthen both of our rules.” I needed to frame this politically.
“Our rules...” He’d never been able to stay angry with me for long—and I hoped now would be no different.
“Yes. I will soon come back to Luz. We can still—”
Before I could finish, his arms wrapped around me. I let my former Constable, my late father’s secret ward, and my dearest friend, hold me, not knowing when the next time might be. “I’m still so angry with you,” he whispered.
“I know.” Letting my nose nestle into the space between his head and neck, I clung to him, having missed the warm steady feeling of being in his arms.
My lips instinctually found his pulse. He groaned as I trailed a kiss down to his collarbone, and I said, “You need to focus on the North. You are their King. You cannot keep avoiding council meetings.”
He abruptly pulled away from me. “You always have an angle, don’t you? Did you come up here to apologize or to seduce me onto a throne I don’t even want?”
I stiffened.
Had that been what I’d done?
“Will you ever consider anyone else’s desires but your own?” he continued—his words like rocks pressing on my chest.
My temper flared. He could not think that of me.
Immediately missing his warmth, I watched him turn and brace his palms down on his weapons table. His broadsword lay flat there—rubies encrusted its pommel.
“Be mad at me, but don’t let your fear turn you into a coward. Those people deserve a King who can rule them fairly, not a scared boy running with his tail between his fucking legs.” As soon as the words left my lips, they felt wrong.
Emmerick sucked in a breath. “You’re really something, Sybilla.”
I wanted to scream, “Look at me!”
He added, “You had no issue keeping my identity from me when it was convenient for you. Now you care about the people of the North? What do you want me to do? Step into my father’s shoes like I have any right leading a Corridor?”
“I can help you—”
“No, Sybilla.” He cut me off with a raised hand. “You can’t. I need to figure this out on my own. You need to give me the space to do so.”
Through tears that threatened to spill, I huffed a short laugh. “You don’t mean that. You’re just angry.”
He scoffed. “Of course I am angry. You leaving? It’s a terrible idea, Sybilla.”
“We were almost decimated out there, Emmerick! Wake up. I am going to secure us a powerful ally.”
“No, Sybilla. You are going to secure you a powerful ally. There is no we or us ,” he said with a shake of his head.
“This has nothing to do with me,” I shot back. “We don’t all get the luxury of doing things for ourselves. You will learn that when your people need something from you that requires compromise to obtain.”
He needed to understand me.
He turned toward me and braced as though he wanted to throw me across the room. He wouldn’t, of course. Yet there was an intent in his posture that I’d never seen before, and the shimmer of gold in his eyes winked out.
“Leave,” he said with a tightened jawline.
A lump grew in my throat as I pressed, “I will see you at the next council meeting, King Mattock.”
He only glared at me.
I left the room with shaky knees.
Just as I’d always feared, I was losing him to his crown.