Chapter 21 #2
“You and I have spent weeks training both kingdom’s soldiers,” my father says.
“You have battled the Allaji three times now and know the damage they’re capable of.
If you say we’re ready to march on them, then I will sit at the helm of the operation and support your decision.
But if we’re not strong enough to face them… ”
The room falls quiet for several beats before Kyron says, “No. We aren’t ready.”
Disappointment and dread unfurl in the pit of my stomach. I step away from the door, letting the men continue their conversation in private. It’s a coward’s move on my part. I should be in that room, discussing our fate. It’s just a task I’m not ready to take on.
However, I do know one thing. I won’t ask that our people face a battle they are not ready for because I can’t put aside my hatred for the Allaji.
They deserve a queen who will do whatever it takes to keep them safe, just like Micah would have done.
The shoes I have to fill are big, sturdy, and spectacular.
I don’t think I’ll ever wear them the way he did, but I will learn to walk in them without stumbling.
When the moment comes, I will attend the negotiations. I’ll put aside my hatred for the betterment of our kingdom, both mine and Kyron’s. But until then, I’m praying for a miracle.
Literally.
My head is fuzzy with all the thoughts racing through it. One part of me is pleading with the Statera to divinely intervene. The other is sorting every possible scenario I could face with the Allaji leaders. It’s all so overwhelming.
My body moves through the palace with little direction from me.
I descend the grand staircase and slip through the dark foyer.
The guard standing watch doesn’t ask any questions as he opens the door to the tunnel that leads to the sanctuary.
It’s not until I’m standing in the middle of the empty building that I realize where I am.
The sanctuary is intimidating without the hordes of the eccentric Stigian citizens lining up to participate in the gift amplification ceremony.
Their bright clothing and outrageous hairstyles distracted from the true grandeur of the holy place.
It also didn’t help that every time I’ve set foot in here, I’ve been under some type of duress.
For the first time, I notice just how spectacular it is.
The ceiling looms high above my head, and the aisle leading to the dais is an infinite path of glossy black marble.
Candles burn in white candelabras along the walls and the moon shines through the enormous, arched stained-glass windows.
Two white thrones embossed with leaves, fire, and other depictions of the powers given by the Statera sit center-stage.
Yet it is the tier above the dais that is a breathtaking spectacle.
A waterfall flows inside the building. The steady stream brings a sense of calm and is at home among the ornate white and black décor.
Bathing beneath the water is an enormous marble statue of Esmeray.
The artist depicted the queen in nothing more than a strip of fabric that clings and winds down her hourglass figure.
She cups her hands, raising them above her head, and the stone in her palms reminds me of fire, glinting red and orange. The Posseda.
For a moment, I’m surprised to see it left in the open and unprotected.
Then it dawns on me that no one here would dare to touch it.
The Stigain need it in the hands of the current ruler in order to get their fix, and my people would be slaughtered by those addicted to what the Posseda is capable of if they were to steal it.
I climb the dais and bypass the thrones for one of the two staircases that curve upward to the waterfall.
Off to the side of the statue is a lever protruding from the ground.
I’m unsure what possesses me to do it, but I pull the handle toward me.
Smooth stones slide against each other as the likeness of Esmeray lowers her arms and presents me with the Sacred Gift in her hands.
The Posseda is the eye-catching counterpart to the Eporri.
Unlike the ten-petal flower design of the stone embedded in my outer thigh, the Posseda is cut to catch the light and sparkle like a jewel.
I pick it up and study the way it almost covers my entire palm.
This rock is the reason for the division in our land even now.
Kyron suspended the daily amplification ceremony, stating that those Stigians who aren’t warriors should spend the ceremony time in meditation until the queen is returned.
Guards stand watch outside the sanctuary, keeping those addicted to the rush of power away.
The same can’t be said for the palace. Those going through withdrawals have grouped together and wail outside the gates at all hours, begging Kyron to resume the practice.
Little do they know that the prince despises the amplification ceremonies and would stop them forever if he could.
I carry the Posseda down to the next level and sit on a throne. As my thumb strokes along the sharp edges, I listen to the rushing water. It relaxes me, and my eyes flutter shut as my mind calms. The Posseda and Eporri give off satisfied purrs like they are overjoyed to be together again.
I focus on their combined power. They pull and push, seek and take.
Every pulse from them is at odds with each other.
It’s the perfect representation of our split kingdom.
Together though… Together they are balanced and harmonious.
I let the sensation consume me and offer all my worries to the Statera.
I don’t know if the energy that fuels all beings will give me the guidance I need, but it doesn’t stop me from asking.
One by one, I meditate with my shortcomings in mind, hoping for the answer to overcome them.
I concentrate on the pain of losing Micah, and my grudge against the Allaji that keeps me from wanting to negotiate with them.
I seek wisdom to do what’s right not only for Lucent but Stigian as well.
I pray to unify our broken kingdom and renew Pliris.
When I have given all my worries to the Statera, I release a long exhale and open my eyes.
“Hello,” Kyron says from the base of the dais. He stares up at me with tired eyes and his hands in his pockets. His black tunic is rumpled, his hair disheveled, and he is the most stunning thing I’ve ever seen.
Heat floods my cheeks, and I curl both hands around the Posseda, shifting to stand.
“Don’t. Sitting there suits you,” he says.
I remain on the throne with my back straight, clinging to the stone. “What are you doing in here? I didn’t expect to see you until tomorrow.”
He glances around, craning his head back to take in the high arches of the ceiling and the opening where the water enters.
The stream catches the moonlight and sends ripples of color on the dim walls, adding to the ethereal feeling of this place.
“I don’t know. I was sitting at my desk and reading a tome I’ve already gone through, and I had this urge to be here. What brought you here?”
“I just needed guidance and was hoping to find some answers,” I say.
“Did you find any?”
I’m ready to say no when my voice catches in my throat.
The Posseda buzzes and the Eporri joins it, rattling my leg.
My tongue grows thick in my mouth, longing to recite the ancient words that I memorized as a child.
At the same time, Micah’s voice sounds loud and clear in my head.
Rule together and let your love mend our broken kingdom.
As if I’m being guided forward by a leash, I rise and descend the stairs.
The closer I get to Kyron, the stronger the feeling.
It hums with the Sacred Gifts, sending shivers down my spine.
When I’m a step above him, I fight the urge to throw myself in his arms. It’s then that I know the force guiding me is our bond.
I study his face for a moment, memorizing all the cuts and curves of his features for the thousandth time.
I’m always fascinated with every new little thing I discover about him.
Tonight, it’s a single light freckle that rests next to his ear.
I’d give anything to spend a lifetime cataloging each scar, mark, and crease.
“Do you remember the oath you made to me the day we sparred?” I ask.
“I remember.” He chuckles and sweeps his hair away from his forehead. “It’s hard to forget when you pledge your love and loyalty to someone while tied up in vines.”
“I suppose it is.” I glance at the Posseda and stroke it with my thumb. “I’m ready to make my oath to you, Kyron.”
He sobers. His Adam’s apple bobs and the shield of confidence that he always wears wavers, leaving him vulnerable to this moment. “Only if that’s what you want. I’m in no rush if time is what you need.”
“I want it.”
I lock eyes with him and caress his stubbled jaw.
So many words collide in my head, declarations of love and oaths to forever adore him.
Each phrase is as sweet as sugar and as beautiful as a sunset.
I want to make a pledge filled with frilly words, but my mouth moves with something more simplistic as I say, “I stand in this holy place and vow to the Statera that my heart, mind, and body are yours. Until my final breath leaves my lungs, I will hold you above all others. May our love guide my rule, and I find my greatest strength with you by my side.”
“Is this your way of saying that one day you will be my wife?” he asks, a touch of the playfulness that has been dimmed by the last few days sparking to life in his eyes.
“One day when everything isn’t shrouded with so much hurt and those who are missing can witness it, I’ll vow to be your wife.
Until then…” I take his hand and press it to my thigh where the Eporri lies.
Holding the Posseda between us, I nod toward the stone.
With furrowed brows, he covers it and my hand with his.
As if I’ve spoken the ancient language my entire life, I chant the incantation that has rested on the tip of my tongue since I noticed him here with me.
The power bestowed upon Pliris’ kings and queens dances around us in soft, fragments of color and brushing against our skin. The Statera’s gift radiates in a way that it didn’t during our anointments as future rulers. It’s vivid, strong, and elated to bless the future king of Pliris.
When the singsong words finish, I declare to the Statera. “You are the future sovereign of Lucent—the unifier of Pliris, Kyron Niklaus LeFur.”
“Raelle?” he whispers, a small attempt to stop me.
He feels it too. I know he does. This need to make it official, to bind him in a way that will fix all the wrongs of the past.
The words continue to flow from me. “May you rule with a pure heart, just hand, wise mind, and be the embodiment of the Statera’s immaculate balance to all within our kingdom.”
The second it’s done, I release a long sigh, and the power whirring through us stills.
For the first time since becoming queen, I’m at peace with what the future may hold.
No matter what happens, Micah’s dream of a land where all are equal will come to fruition through Kyron. Together we will build a new Pliris.
I leave the Posseda in his trembling hand and walk down the last step, putting us on equal ground. Fanning out the skirt of my dress, I lower into a deep curtsy that brings me almost to the floor. “It will be my honor to rule with you, my future king.”
Kyron falls to his knees and hooks his finger under my chin, lifting my face. Beyond the tears welling in his dark eyes is complete adoration. “You bow to no one, not even me.” He moves closer and brushes his lips over mine. “Thank you, Raelle.”
I know his gratitude runs deep. Lucent has always stood between us.
Obligation after obligation has hindered me from giving my all to him, but not anymore.
I can’t relinquish my status as queen, but I can offer him to rule beside me, to share my life and my kingdom. I’m giving him my unadulterated trust.
Sliding my hands around his neck, I lower to my knees and press our bodies together.
The Posseda falls from his grip, thumping against the floor.
He cradles the back of my head and rubs the small of my back.
Our lips touch gently and slowly until he brushes his tongue along the seam of my mouth.
I open to him and his taste makes me lightheaded.
My fingers tangle in his hair, and my mouth is bold against his, seeking his tongue and nipping at his lips.
I press my thighs together when his hand slides down and curves over my ass.
He holds me against him, and the hard swell of him presses into my lower stomach.
I pull on his tunic, needing to touch his skin.
My fingers graze the soft thatch of hair below his navel, and he hisses, pulling back a little.
Desire burns in his eyes as he breathlessly says, “Careful, princess. I’m seconds away from hiking up your dress and taking you right here.”
His warning only stokes the fire burning inside me. I want him to do it. A mischievous grin pulls at my lips as I slide my hand between his legs and stroke the leather covering his cock. “Be careful what you promise, prince. I’m a queen now, I can command you to follow through.”
“Fuck, Raelle,” he groans, staggering to his feet and taking me with him. “You don’t have to command a damn thing. I’ll make good on my promise. Just not here.” He glances at the statue of his mother.
My laughter echoes throughout the empty sanctuary. “I suppose that’s a little awkward.”
“Just a little,” he says, taking a handkerchief from his pocket and wrapping the Posseda in it. He slides the stone into his jacket pocket and pulls me against him again. “Besides, the way I want to worship my queen is better suited for my bed.”
“Lead the way, Your Grace.”