Chapter 8
Eight
Ashrill scream invades my sleep, and I bolt upright, scanning the room. Everything around me is quiet and set in dusty blue shadows. My eyes feel like lead, and my mind is groggy, primed to play tricks on me. I sink back down on the pillows and pull the blankets over my shoulder.
I found it hard to fall asleep after my confrontation with Kyron and Zek.
The moments I spent in the hallway alcove with the prince buried inside me are riddled with self-doubt.
I should have fortified my emotions against him, pushed them deep inside and never gave into my desire.
I don’t necessarily regret having sex with him.
How could I when it was exactly what my body needed?
Our moment of angry passion felt spectacular, yet it blew a gaping hole in my defenses.
I already crave more, and because of that, I’m going to have one hell of a time keeping him at bay.
My troubles with Zek were less complicated.
I’d acted like a royal bitch. He was doing his job, even if it felt invasive.
Watching over me can’t be easy. I don’t comply with the rules very well, and Micah requires constant updates.
I shouldn’t have come down so hard on him.
It’s a mistake I need to rectify as soon as possible.
Another ear-piercing scream jars me from my thoughts.
I bolt out of the bed with my heart hammering against my chest. My hands shake as I grab my robe and tie it around my waist. Doors open and slam closed, and hasty footsteps pound down the hallway.
I rush out the door to more screams and gasps, echoing from the lower level of the palace.
The mayhem around me is terrifying but I hurry down the stairs, stopping short of walking into the foyer.
“Raelle, no,” my father says, pulling me into his arms and burying my face to his chest. But it’s too late. I press my palm to my mouth and fight against my gag reflex. The ghastly image seared into my brain will forever reside there.
Hanging above the palace entrance is Lance.
His arms are pinned to the wall with knives through his wrists and a sword impaled in his board chest. Blood trickles down his cheeks where something has pecked out his eyes, leaving black holes in his head.
The most disturbing words arch over his head, written in blood.
Pliris is Ours.
I grip my father’s shirt and bury my face against it. The familiar scents ease my nerves, giving me the strength to pull away. I fight the urge to look again. Instead I concentrate on my father’s face.
“You should go back to your room.” He motions Zek over, but I shake my head.
“No, Papa. I need to stay.”
He hesitates for a moment, torn between protecting me and understanding my call to duty. He nods and pulls me in closer to his side.
The unsettling feeling of someone watching me raises the hair on the back of my neck.
I look over my shoulder to find Kyron standing close with his eyes fixated on me.
His hair is a rumpled mess, and the ties of his tunic hang loose, as if he threw it on in a rush.
His brow is knit together and his mouth downturned.
The urge to touch him has me reaching back and grazing my knuckles against his.
A torrent of sadness and regret wash over me, the Eporri using his gift to relay his emotions to me.
It takes me a moment to catch my breath and unwind his feelings from my own.
Kyron has always taken personal responsibility for those he oversees.
It doesn’t matter that they chose to put themselves in harm’s way or that death is a price of war.
He made it his job to protect them. And if he failed, he would pay the penance for it.
His reaction to losing his personal guard proves that the crown has not changed that about him.
Esmeray pushes through the crowd. Her sheer black robe with fur trim billows behind her. She stops short of the arched entrance, glaring up at Lance and shaking her head. “Whose responsibility was it to guard the foyer?”
A warrior with ample curves and dark mahogany curls steps forward “It was mine, Your Majesty. I’d asked Lance to guard my post while I relieved myself.”
“If you called on the prince’s personal guard, who was seeing to the prince?” the queen asks with rage in her icy stare.
“I was only gone for a moment, Your—”
She holds up her hand and scoffs, “Leave your uniform and return to your family. Thank the Statera that this is the extent of your punishment and that I don’t hang you in the center of the city for your neglect toward the crown.”
The woman bows her head with tears brimming in her eyes. “Thank you for showing mercy, Your Majesty.”
Esmeray sweeps her hand in a flippant gesture that screams her annoyance with her warriors.
As if Lance chose to be nailed to the wall, his face bloody and disfigured.
Or that the other warrior thought her actions would lead to such a horrific death.
The queen is cruel and the example of everything I hope never to be.
The servants clear from the foyer, and Kyron releases my fingers, turning to the warriors who remain.
He drops his voice and says, “Whoever did this may still be in the palace. I want every guard on duty now. Post archers along the wall and order them to shoot down every bird that flies over it. The palace guards are to sweep every corner. Any unknown animals bigger than a child are to be caged. Start with my mother’s quarters and then the Lucent king’s. I want whoever did this to be found.”
“No. My son’s room is to be searched before you move on to my brother,” Esmeray says, making clear her order of priorities.
“We will handle securing our own rooms,” my father interjects.
She glares at him and lifts one side of her plump lips. “I see you are happy to do my brother’s bidding again. Wasn’t life easier when I had you chained to my throne as a pet?”
“I prefer my freedom,” Papa says, keeping his tone calm and low.
“Do you, because I always got the feeling that you enjoyed our moments alone under the waters of the Posseda.”
My blood heats, and I clench my fists at my sides. This woman took so much from my father. It wasn’t only his dormant power she stole, but precious time with his family. I hate her for every horrendous thing she did to him. Anger builds within me, and my hands shake as I take a step forward.
Micah reaches for my upper arm and pulls me next to him.
“Don’t give her the satisfaction of luring you into a rash reaction.
Your father can fight his own battles.” The king glares at his sister and smoothly says, “It is only a matter of time before the oppressed rise against their persecutors and demolish them.”
A humorless chuckle comes from Esmeray. “Spoken like a man who doesn’t have a tight rein on his kingdom.”
Micah sneers. “Don’t worry about my hold on Lucent. All the people under my rule will freely rise to fight what’s to come. Not because they want power, but they believe it is the right thing to do.”
The Stigian council members gathered around us mumble their disapproval for his attack on their character.
They see nothing wrong with their elevated state and reaping the rewards from their unfair way of governing.
These Khiros refuse to acknowledge the damage they’re doing to the Cyffreds, and the retribution the captives will one day demand.
Kyron releases a long breath and rubs his temple. “If we can move on to the pressing issue at hand, I’d greatly appreciate it. We need to come to a firm consensus and the Lucents must return to their kingdom to ensure they don’t lose ground there.”
“The prince is right. There’s no more time to waste. We need a clear picture of how the training of both armies will take place and to mobilize our units before we no longer have a land to defend,” Papa says.
The servants return with a ladder and several black cloths to protect the ground and cover the body with. No part of me wants to remain in the room as they attempt to pry the warrior from the wall. I turn my head to the side and casually brush my fingertips to my brow to block the view.
“Far be it from me to deny my son. We will meet in the strategy room in an hour,” Esmeray says, flouncing past us and up the stairs.
Kyron walks by my side as we head up behind his mother.
His jaw ticks while he stares ahead, and the tension emanating from him makes the air around us thick.
Since the day I first met him, he has held himself responsible for those in his keep.
He took it as a personal blow to his abilities as a leader if he lost one person during a battle.
It has to tear him apart that his warrior is a casualty of our newly formed rivalry with the Allaji.
I wait for the last of the council and the queen to turn down their corridors and quietly say, “I’m sorry about Lance. He not only seemed dedicated to his duties, but I could see that he genuinely cared for you.”
“He did. Him and his wife just had their first child. He refused to take time away until after my anointment. His daughter is just a baby.” Kyron tilts his head back, and his Adam’s apple bobs.
“This shouldn’t have happened, not within our walls and definitely not in this palace.
I should have taken better precautions. No one should have gotten that close to…
” He pulls his hair and slowly releases a breath. “I should have done better.”
I step ahead of him and turn, putting us face to face. Placing my palms on his cheeks, I say, “I understand your frustration, but you aren’t Stigian’s king. Lance’s death isn’t on your hands, it’s on your mother’s.”
“Raelle,” he warns.
“No. You need to hear this. There will come a day when you carry this kingdom on your shoulders. Each life here will be your sole responsibility, but that day isn’t now. Your mother is responsible for this. She is careless and selfish and—”
“This isn’t the time or place for this,” he says, removing my hands from his face and continuing up the stairs.
His rejection strikes a nerve with me. How can he not contemplate the atrocious acts that happen under his mother’s rule every second of every day?
Since I’ve been in the palace, not an hour has gone by where I don’t think about it.
I can’t forget the Cyffreds that wither away in cells, or who put them there.
It’s impossible not to blame Lance’s death on her as well.
Esmeray has held no regard for her people and her failure to do so has killed countless and the body count will only rise.
I keep up with his stride, not ready to back down. He needs to hear me to understand that he must fight against what is happening in his kingdom. I wait for my father and Micah to enter the king’s quarters, and Zek disappears into mine before I broach the subject again.
“How can you be so complacent with the principles your ancestors built Pliris upon? It was wrong then, and it’s wrong now. And you know it!”
Kyron halts in the middle of the hallway and slowly pivots around to face me. “Every kingdom has wreaked havoc on the lives of others, even Lucent. Or did you forget that my uncle bound my memories to hold me hostage? I’m sure I wasn’t the first person he’s manipulated for his kingdom’s gain.”
I open and close my mouth, unable to find a strong rebuttal. “I didn’t forget, Kyron.”
“Neither have I! Everyone has lived my life for me, setting the course, steering me this way and that.” He sweeps his hand in the air.
“This is the first choice I made without someone fucking with me. I know what I’ve gotten into, and although I don’t deserve it, I’m asking you to trust me, Raelle. ”
I once threw open the doors of my heart to Kyron.
Not a single soul in the five kingdoms understands me the way he does.
He knows all the sweet words to say and how to look at me in a way that makes me want to melt to a pool at his feet.
But I won’t let all those small things that I adore about him cloud my judgment.
“I can’t,” I say, the words thick in my mouth.
Pain flashes in his eyes, shooting straight to my heart. What has transpired between us has never felt so real. This isn’t the kind of hurt I just get over, and the sins of his kingdom aren’t the type I can pretend I don’t see. We may never get past the damage that he caused us.
He slides his palm over his face and lets out a long breath. “Then trust the strength of the lessons Abrum taught me. My mother can’t unravel everything he instilled in me, or the love he showed me. Trust that he molded me into the kind of king you believe I should be.”
I can’t let my guard down. The last time I let him in, he tore me in two.
I’m far from being whole again, but I’m learning how to fit the leftover pieces of me into someone new.
A woman who is stronger than she once was, and a queen that will not easily bend.
I’ll never again be the trusting girl he once knew.
I stand on my tiptoes and press my lips to his cheek. Against his skin I whisper, “Prove it to me, Your Grace. Show me you’re the change this kingdom needs, and I’ll trust you. Until then, you’re just another ruler who builds their kingdom upon the backs of those you deem disposable.”
Kyron opens his mouth to reply, but I don’t wait to hear it. I don’t want any more prettily spoken promises or sworn oaths. It’s time that the Stigian prince proves he’ll be a faithful ally to me and my kingdom.