Chapter 27
Chapter
Twenty-Seven
A fter my fight with Luther, the communal discomfort was so thick I could taste it—bitter and slimy, like cream gone bad.
I grabbed Taran’s hand and dragged him to the table. “Let me check your wounds.”
I gestured for him to remove his tunic, then opened my satchel to dig out the bundle of herbs I’d collected in Arboros.
“Shit,” I said, frowning. “I’m running lower than I thought.”
Luther looked over.
“Do you not have enough?” Taran asked.
“Depends on how fast you heal.”
“Can you get more in Lumnos?”
“Nothing this strong.” I saw his face go pale, and I quickly forced a smile. “I’m sure I won’t need them. You’re going to be fine.”
He sulked. “This must be bad. She’s lying again.”
I set to work removing Taran’s bandages. Though the poultice was still white—usually a sign it had not worked—I was relieved to see that the cut on his side showed no sign of the godstone’s dark poison, and the wound at his shoulder had only a fading trace.
Even the wounds had mended better than expected. Godstone typically slowed a Descended’s natural healing to that of a mortal’s, but Taran’s injuries looked like they’d been healing for weeks.
I set about preparing a new batch. “Lumnos must really like you. These are almost healed. And that’s not a lie.”
His worry seemed to ease, and he cracked a smile. “You never should have doubted me.”
“I recall it being you who doubted me .”
He had the gall to look offended. “I would never, Queenie.”
“No? You didn’t doubt my plan in Ignios and come running back to save me?”
“Well, see, about that—”
“You didn’t doubt my ability to survive the Challenging?”
“To be fair, we all doubted—”
“You didn’t doubt that I would choose Luther when you gave me hell about it that day in Lumnos?”
“Fine, that one I should have seen coming.”
“What did you say to her in Lumnos?” Luther asked.
“Nothing,” Taran and I answered.
Luther’s eyes narrowed.
“If I’m on the Blessed Mother’s good side, I’ve got to milk it while it lasts,” Taran blurted, hurriedly changing the subject. “Maybe I should ask for a mate, now that you’ve overruled my father’s ban on mating ceremonies without his permission.”
My brows rose. “I didn’t realize you were such a romantic.”
“I’m not.”
Alixe snorted, and Taran shot her a scowl.
“I’m not .”
“You swoon at every mating mark you see.” She gestured to me and Luther. “And you get bouncy every time these two touch each other.”
“Maybe some of us are just happy to see our friends find the person they’re meant to spend forever with.”
A flush of emotion glowed inside me. I couldn’t stop my eyes from lifting to Luther, but his were on my hands, watching me work.
I gave Taran’s arm a squeeze. “You’ll find your mate, I’m sure of it. And when you do, she’s going to be a very lucky woman.”
He smirked. “Actually—”
A section of the bookcase shook loose and swung open with a loud creak. Taran shot to his feet and shoved me behind him, using his magic to conjure a dark axe in one hand and a spear of shadow in the other.
Zalaric prowled inside in his elegant, catlike way. His magical aura unfurled like a rich perfume, crowding the room alongside mine and Luther’s.
He paused in front of Taran and gave him a withering appraisal. With the flick of a single finger, a twinkling mist surrounded Taran’s hands and dissolved his weapons into smoke.
“What—I—how?” Taran sputtered. He reached for his real blade, but Zalaric was faster.
A cord of sizzling blue light snaked around the sword’s hilt as Taran’s fist closed on it. He yelped and snatched his hand away, shaking it like he’d been burned.
The corner of Zalaric’s lip curled up. Taran growled and lunged forward, promptly slamming face-first into a glimmering shield.
I had to practically scrape my jaw off the rug. I knew from our training sessions that Taran was a skilled fighter, quick and adaptable, but Zalaric had reduced him to a fumbling novice.
“Are you done embarrassing yourself?” he asked blandly, arching a slender eyebrow pierced with golden hoops.
I grabbed Taran’s arm. “It’s alright—he’s a friend.” I eyed Zalaric. “I think.”
Zalaric’s focus sharpened on my face, no longer covered by my cloak. He cocked his head, curiously looking me over.
Luther and Taran edged forward to block me from view. “What news do you bring?” Luther asked.
“I can get you out of Umbros without a Centenary checkpoint, but my contact can’t leave until tomorrow night.”
Luther shook his head. “We need to leave tonight.”
Zalaric shrugged. “Then I cannot help you.”
“What price will it take to change your contact’s mind?”
“It’s not possible. Either wait or find your own way back.”
“Surely we can wait one day,” I offered.
Luther glared in silence, frustration wafting off him like steam. A long moment passed, and he said nothing.
I leaned out from behind him and tried again. “Crossing the sea in winter will be cold and rainy. We could all use a warm bed and another hot meal before we go.”
I glanced at Luther. His jaw tensed and adjusted, but he offered no response.
Finally, I turned to Zalaric. “Thank you. We’ll leave with your contact tomorrow night.”
His eyes darted from me to Luther, gleaming with unasked questions. He held out a hand. “I don’t think we’ve been properly introduced.”
I stepped past a bristling Luther to clasp Zalaric’s wrist. “Please, call me D. I’m Luther’s, um, cousin.” I gestured to the others. “This is Alixe—” She gave a shallow bow. “—and Taran.” He crossed his arms with a scowl.
Zalaric gave Alixe a fleeting wisp of a smile. His focus lingered on Taran’s chest, still bare from where my ministrations had been interrupted by his arrival. “Godstone?”
I nodded. “How did you know?”
He strolled to Taran, who stiffened bodily, and hovered a hand just above the wound at his shoulder. “May I, Terry?”
“It’s Taran,” he grumbled.
Zalaric shrugged. “Whatever.”
Taran’s mouth popped open. I bit my lip to hide my smile. A speechless Taran was something I never thought I’d see.
Zalaric waited patiently until Taran managed a nod, then brushed his fingers delicately over the planes of Taran’s golden-tan skin. “I’ve learned a bit about healing so I can tend to my customers’ needs. Over the years, I’ve seen quite a few godstone cuts.”
He traced the dark veins that still webbed from the wound while Taran gawked. Without even looking away from the injury, Zalaric crooked a finger under Taran’s slackened jaw and pushed it closed.
“Do you know much about treating them?” I asked.
“As I understand it, they can’t be treated. It’s simply up to luck whether the person survives.” He clicked his tongue. “Brutal death. Terribly painful. But this...” He swiped a thumb over the ridge of Taran’s collarbone and hummed. I began to genuinely worry Taran might pass away from shock. “This looks almost healed.” His gaze dragged up to Taran’s face. “I’ve never seen anyone survive godstone. You’re very lucky.”
Taran swallowed. “Well you’re very... very...” He swallowed again. “Very...”
“Rich,” Zalaric answered for him. He spun on his heel and strode toward the bookshelves. “And unlike you royals, I earned my fortune. Something I must now get back to doing.”
I followed behind him. “Thank you again, Zalaric. Your generosity is much appreciated.”
“I’m many things, D, but generous isn’t one of them. The bill for all of this will be outrageous. I hope you’re prepared to pay.”
“We are,” I insisted, having no idea whether we were or not, but Alixe was busy smirking at Taran while Luther had resumed his staring match with the fireplace.
As I watched Zalaric go to leave, my heart twisted with the urge to shower him in questions—about his upbringing in Umbros, about the half-mortal children, about his relationship with my mother. This was a man with endless stories to tell, and I yearned to hear them all.
Maybe he yearned to tell them, too, because he hesitated at the last moment. “If you wish, I could take you on a tour of the city tomorrow morning. I’d be happy to show you the lesser-known markets and all the best food vendors.” He gave a feline smile. “For a fee, of course.”
A disapproving growl rolled out from behind me, no doubt from Luther’s throat.
I sighed. “It’s a lovely offer, but we can’t risk being stopped.”
“Oh, the Centenaries won’t bother you if you’re with me. I bribe them extremely well to leave me and my people alone. And I can disguise your faces with my magic, in case there’s anyone who might recognize you. I’m quite good at being invisible if I don’t want to be seen.” His eyes cut briefly to Taran. “And being noticed if I do.”
I didn’t have to see Luther to know he was mentally snarling at me to say no. But deep within, something was daring me to say yes . Though I knew the others would see it as rebellion or reckless curiosity, it was beyond that. My soul felt certain we’d been brought here for a reason—and that Zalaric’s path and mine were paved with the same stones.
Trust your instincts , Luther had said.
He was definitely going to regret saying that.
“We would love a tour,” I said with a warm smile. “Add it to our bill.”
“Cousin,” Luther said darkly. “We should discuss this. In private .”
“No need. I’m sure Zalaric will take good care of us.”
“Even so, it would be best to stay here until—”
“Then stay here,” I said, my tone sharpening. I threw him a hard glance. “But I intend to go. A few hours in the city, then we return to Lumnos.”
A compromise for a compromise , I thought tartly. Luther’s eyes widened for a split second, then narrowed, a faint crease on his brow.
I spun back around. “We’ll meet you after breakfast, Zalaric.”
He eyed us both with a fascinated glint, then moved to leave, waving a dismissive hand in Taran’s direction. “Try to find a shirt to wear tomorrow, Thomas.”
“It’s Tar—”
The bookshelf snapped into place, and Zalaric was gone.
Taran scowled. “I really don’t like him.”
I grinned. “I really do.”
“Traitor.”
I laughed and nudged him back into a chair to finish changing out his bandages. “You don’t have to come. It’s a risk I’m willing to take, but I won’t ask the same from any of you.”
“Like I’m going to trust you with him ,” he shot back. “Besides, watching you get yourself into trouble is my new favorite hobby.”
“There’s not going to be any trouble.” I smiled sweetly. “I’m going to be on my very best behavior, just like I promised Luther. In and out of the city, no complications.”
Taran snorted, and I poked him in the ribs.
“What about you, Alixe?” I asked.
“Well, actually...” Her eyes flitted apprehensively to Luther. “I would like to come. There’s something I’m working on in Lumnos, and this is the only place I can find what I need.”
“Perfect.” I beamed at Luther. “And you, my Prince? Will you be joining us?”
“No.”
My smile fell. Taran and Alixe stared at each other in shock.
“What I said,” I stammered, “I—I didn’t mean... it wasn’t that I don’t want you to come, I—”
“You three can handle it.” He grabbed his cloak and threw it over his shoulders. “It’s safer for one of us to stay back, in case the others are captured.”
“Luther—”
He started for the door. “There’s something I need to take care of while I still have my magic. I’ll be back in a few hours.”
I ran to follow him. “Come with us. I want you there.”
“It’s time to get used to having them at your side, not me.” He gave me a fleeting stare. “A compromise for a compromise, Your Majesty.”
He pulled away and disappeared down the hall.
An intense cocoon of heat coiled around me, stirring me from what was already a restless sleep. Two strong arms looped around my body and pulled me into the air. A flash of panic gave way to relief as a familiar musk filled my nose.
“Luther,” I murmured drowsily.
“Go back to sleep.”
My bone-tired body whimpered to do exactly that, though I fought the pull.
After Luther left, Alixe and Taran had distracted me with lessons on how to use my magic, until eventually they surrendered to exhaustion and retired to bed. Unable to get Luther’s last words out of my head, I had curled up into an armchair by the fire to nurse an overfull glass of whiskey and stare at the door, awaiting his return. At some point, I must have drifted off.
“You finally get a bed and you choose to sleep on floors and chairs,” he said softly.
His teasing tone soothed my nerves. I nuzzled into his chest and the blissful warmth soaking through his sweater. “You were gone so long.”
“I’m sorry I worried you. I lost track of time.”
“Where did you go?”
He rested his chin atop my head. “To pray. I saw a shrine to Blessed Mother Lumnos on our way in, and I wanted to make an offering.”
“What were you praying for?”
He didn’t answer for a long moment. I shifted my hand until it sat above his heart.
“ Peace ,” he whispered with a shaky exhale.
He laid me on the bed and covered me in downy blankets, then fussed over a hearth in the corner until the room warmed.
He moved to the edge of the bed beside me and placed his hand next to mine. I was instantly taken back to the morning after the armory fire, when I’d woken up in a palace bed with him at my side. It was the first day he’d let me see his smile—that true, brilliant, world-illuminating smile I hadn’t yet realized was only for me.
What I wouldn’t give to see that smile on his face again.
He let out a sigh. “I owe you an apology for how I acted earlier. I was out of line.” He hooked a finger around mine. “I’ve never cared for anyone the way I care for you. Knowing you’re in danger brings out a darkness in me I’m not proud of.”
“Are you angry at me?”
“I am angry. But not at you.” He tucked my hair behind my ear. “Never at you, my Queen.”
“At Alixe? Luther, she didn’t—”
“Not at her, either. She did exactly what I would have done, if the Crown were anyone but you.”
I looped another finger through his. “Then who are you angry at?”
He stared at our joined hands, the muscles along his throat flexing as if struggling to pull the words forward—or fighting to keep them down.
He leaned down and set a kiss on my temple. “Sleep, my Queen.”
“Wait—don’t go. I promise I won’t touch you.”
He flinched, like my words had struck a blow.
“Stay,” I pleaded.
An unreadable emotion swam across his face, while my heart held its breath in hope. His eyes glowed faintly with the final embers of his magic before it flickered and disappeared, silent once more.
With a deep breath, he rounded the bed and climbed in beside me. Even the two feet of empty space between us and his awkward position—flat on his back and fully clothed, his guarded expression fixed on the ceiling—couldn’t dampen my relief.
I turned on my side and laid my hand out, palm up. Not pushing him—I was determined to respect his boundaries, even if I didn’t understand them. Even if they were breaking my heart.
But offering.
Hoping.
The dim wash of the firelight painted his skin in soft amber and sienna. I watched the dance of colors over his handsome features until my eyelids grew heavy. Though I couldn’t be sure whether it was real or a dream, I swore I felt rough, warm skin close around my hand as my mind slipped away.