Chapter 73
Chapter
Seventy-Three
“ E at,” Luther demanded.
His hand appeared beneath the book my face was buried in, nudging a plate across the table.
I flipped a page. “I’m not hungry.”
“I can hear your stomach growling from here.”
“Fine, I am hungry, but I’m also Descended.” I flipped a page. “Hunger won’t kill me for weeks.”
“ Diem .” His rumble of warning set my heart skipping. “You need to eat. They’ll be here any minute to take us to Coeur?le.”
I flipped a page. “Which is why I don’t have time to eat. I need to read while I still can.”
“You had time to stop earlier this afternoon. And at lunchtime. And several times this morning.”
“That’s because you were on the menu.” I lowered my book just enough to see his eyes. “Is that what you’re offering?”
His expression heated. “If I lay you out on this table, will you eat while I make you come?”
I chewed on my lip, debating my options. “Can I read while you make me come instead?”
I yelped as he plucked the book from my hands. His jaw muscles feathered with the telltale sign of his temper. “If something goes wrong on the island again, you won’t have magic to rely on. Your body needs to be strong.”
He had that very serious, very endearing crease between his brows that appeared every time I was doing something that might get me killed. Adorable as I found it, we’d both had enough danger lately. I needed to know he was safe, and he needed the same. I grabbed a sprig of grapes and lounged back in my chair, then gave him an adoring smile as I popped one into my mouth.
His muscles eased. He poured a cup of tea and set it beside my plate. “I don’t like that we haven’t heard from Doriel. I thought they would at least come by to check on the roof.”
“I’m sure they’re busy with the repairs from the battle.” I shot him a knowing look. “And we know they’re doing lots of research.”
We’d learned that the hard way when a group of attendants had stopped by yesterday to collect some books at Doriel’s request and let us know we could stay an extra night—and nearly walked in on us naked with me on my knees and Luther halfway down my throat.
My core burned hot at the memory. “I’ve had you and the library all to myself for a day longer than expected. I say we consider that a gift from the Old Gods and not question it.” I let out a sad sigh. “I wish it didn’t have to end. I know we’re just hiding from our problems here, but these last two days have been some of the happiest of my life.”
A fond softness fell over his features. “Of mine, as well. Going back to Lumnos will be bittersweet.”
“Indeed. Though I am eager to unseat Remis, now that I finally know what I want to do as Queen.”
His brows rose. “You do?”
I spread a pat of golden butter across some crusty bread, nibbling on it as I frowned in thought. “What do you think of a council to govern Lumnos, like the one they had in Montios? We could set aside half the seats for mortals and half for Descended, with me holding the tie vote.”
“The Twenty Houses will say you’re always going to vote on the side of the mortals.”
“Good. Let that motivate them to negotiate with the mortals on plans they can both agree on.”
Luther stared off thoughtfully. “It’s not a bad idea. You now have three realms. If they can self-govern day-to-day matters, it would free you to focus on bigger things.”
“Like murdering my birth father,” I mumbled.
He hunched forward, resting his forearms on the table. “I know you don’t want to do it.”
I winced. “Is it that obvious?”
“No. But I know your heart. You want to find some way to redeem him. It’s who you are.”
My eyes fell. “Does that make me a traitor to my mother? Or all the innocent people he’s killed?”
He hesitated before answering. “Hope doesn’t make you a traitor... but I do think there are some people who can’t be redeemed.”
And you think he’s one of them, I thought, though neither of us voiced it aloud.
I snatched two apples from a bowl of fruit, tossing one to him. He unsheathed a small knife from his boot, and I stared in dismay as he began to carve it into perfectly even slices without a drop of juice spilled, ever the well-heeled, sophisticated royal.
He noticed me watching him and paused. I gnawed off a massive chunk from my apple with an irreverent crunch, then wiped the juice from my lips with the back of my hand.
His eyes narrowed.
“Savage.”
“Snob.”
We both grinned.
“When we have our orchard, you’ll have to learn how to eat apples like a mortal, or they’re going to run us out of Mortal City,” I teased.
He froze, his knife half-lodged in the core.
“I was thinking,” I went on, “when we get back to Lumnos, let’s find land near my family’s old cottage, like you suggested. We can hire some mortals to build us a home. My father’s friends, perhaps.”
His mouth opened, but no words came out.
I smiled. I knew that feeling well.
“It doesn’t have to be anything fancy. Maybe something small, or maybe...” My cheeks warmed. “Something we could grow into someday. As a family.”
For a long time, Luther was still.
Then his knuckles went white. His hand slipped off the apple, sending his knife slicing across his chest. A line of red formed on his sweater.
“By the Flames,” I hissed. I rushed around the table and perched on his lap, laying my palm over his chest to push healing magic into the wound. “Gods, Luther, that was right over your heart.” I shot him a playful scowl. “Be careful with that. It belongs to me now.”
He stared at me, lips parted, face bloodless. His eyes were aglow, but not with his usual Lumnos light. Something warmer.
“Your Majesty?”
A pair of Doriel’s attendants appeared at the door. They took one look at the food scattered among books on the library table and cringed. I wondered if risking the welfare of a book in Sophos was punishable by execution.
“The boat is waiting to take you to the island,” one said. “Doriel asked that you come right away.”
My gut clenched. The time had finally come.
I stood and wiped the blood from my hand. Luther looked dazed, hand gripping his chest. I frowned. “Are you alright?”
He nodded stiffly. Slowly, he rose to join me.
The attendants exchanged an awkward look. “Only the Queen is permitted to come,” one said. “The Prince is to wait for Her Majesty here.”
“The hell I am.” He clutched my wrist. “No one’s taking her from me.”
“Luther, it’s just the coronation,” I soothed.
“I need to be with you. At your side.” His grip tightened. “Always.”
I might have laughed and baited him that one vague mention of becoming a family had made him lose his mind, but he looked like a man ready to draw blood if he was denied.
I pried his fingers off my arm and laced them with my own. “Why don’t you escort me to the dock? Maybe Doriel will change their mind.”
“Doriel was very clear,” the attendant insisted. “The Prince is to stay here.”
“The Prince is free to roam Sophos as he pleases, just like all Descended, is he not?” I asked curtly.
Neither attendant had an answer for that. They shot each other another look, but said nothing more as they led us through the library and down its steps.
I frowned as I looked around at the relatively deserted streets. “I thought the army soldiers were supposed to be back from Umbros by now.”
“They were... delayed,” one answered. “They’ll be here by day’s end.”
“I hate to leave the realm unguarded. If we need to postpone the ritual until—”
“Doriel said it’s nothing to be concerned with. Come now, we must hurry.”
They shooed us into a small carriage that zipped us out of the city and through the grasslands, toward the sandy shores of the Sacred Sea.
As we rode, I forced my way through stilted small talk with the attendants while Luther gazed into the distance, brows drawn. He clutched my hand the entire time, his thumb sweeping back and forth like he needed constant reassurance I was still there.
When we arrived, Doriel was not at all pleased to see him. Their expression was clouded, and they shot their attendants a disapproving glare.
“You have to stay here,” I whispered to Luther. “Doriel’s upset. I can’t risk angering them more. I need their support with the other Crowns.”
Though it looked as if it physically pained him to give in, Luther gave a subtle nod.
I rose up and kissed him on his cheek. He leaned into my touch, curling his arm around my waist and pulling me close.
“I’ll wait here until you return,” he said.
“You don’t have to do that. Go back to the city. Go to the library and read. Better yet, go see my brother and apologize.” I shot him a hard look. “And convince him to come home with us while you’re at it.”
“I’m waiting here ,” he growled.
I rolled my eyes and gave him one quick, final kiss, then peeled myself out of his vicelike grip and walked down the pier toward the Sophos royal boat. As I boarded the rocking vessel, a guard grabbed my hips to steady me. Even from a distance, I heard the feral noise that tore from Luther’s throat. The guard blanched and quickly pulled away.
I beamed at Doriel in greeting. “Thank you again for doing this. And thank you for letting us use the library. It’s been a lovely last couple of days.”
They nodded, but said nothing more.
My head cocked. “I wish we’d had a chance to speak more. I haven’t seen you since the battle.”
“I’ve been very busy.”
The boat pushed off from the dock, so I looked back at Luther to wave goodbye. He looked utterly miserable as his hand pressed against his heart.
Suddenly, his expression shifted. He stared down at his palm, frowning, then looked up, his gaze sharpening on Doriel.
“Did you manage to fix the library roof?” Doriel asked.
My eyes snapped to them. “Yes, we did. It wasn’t too bad, mostly aesthetic. Luckily, no books were damaged in the attack.”
Doriel hummed. “Lucky, indeed.”
I was forced to grab a railing to stay upright as we shot through the choppy waves. Like all boats in Sophos, this one was powered by their spark magic, designed to zip across the sea at breakneck speeds. The Crowns’ boats were infused with the same power—coronation gifts from a past Sophos Crown to enable the monarchs to get to Coeur?le for rituals more quickly.
“Did your mother confirm the rebels will allow us on the island without any violence?” Doriel asked. “I took a great risk in assuring the other Crowns they would not be harmed.”
My insides twisted. I had no idea what the mortals would do when we arrived. If my mother’s messenger hawks hadn’t made it to them—or if they decided not to honor her command—I could be leading the Crowns into a bloodbath.
Again.
I smiled brightly. “Everything’s taken care of,” I lied. “The Crowns will be safe. Though if they don’t pardon my mother, it may be the last time we ever get through.”
Doriel’s lips pressed tight in silent response.
“How’s your research?” I prodded. “Find anything interesting about Ophiucae or Omnos?”
Their eyes ran over me, pausing on the ten-pointed star at my throat. “When we spoke before, you offered a bonded bargain to kill him. Are you still willing to agree to that?”
I tensed and tightened my scarf to hide the mark. “After the battle, I would hope you trust me enough to keep my word.”
“Even if I do, the other Crowns may not. It could go a long way for them to see that you’re willing to put your magic on the line.”
They reached into their jacket and pulled out a small blade. It was gilded and fanciful, as most Descended creations were. Covered in flourishes, and the gold had a hint of copper in its hue.
A beautiful weapon.
A familiar weapon.
Instantly, I was right back in my family’s cottage on the marsh. The Sophos magic painted the scene in elaborate detail, only it wasn’t the warm fire of the hearth or my parents’ laughter that greeted me—it was a sea of red and the foul odor of death.
It was my father’s corpse, his brown eyes fixed in an unseeing stare.
It was a blood-soaked blade in his chest, its blackwood handle inlaid with blush-colored gemstones and engraved with copper swirls.
And although the dagger in Doriel’s hands had a hilt of ivory, not wood, the rest of the design was unmistakably identical .
Blood rushed to my head, spotting my vision.
“Is something wrong?” Doriel asked.
“Y-your knife. It’s very... unusual,” I stammered.
They looked mildly abashed. “Ah, yes. I know the rule—no weapons on the island except the ritual dagger. Don’t worry, it won’t leave the boat.”
“Where did you get it?” I asked, breathless.
“It was a coronation gift. From your late King Ulther, in fact.” They twisted it in their hand, the late afternoon sun glinting off the jewels. “I’m not much a fan of weapons, really, but it is a lovely p—”
“When’s the last time you were in Lumnos?” I blurted out.
Doriel frowned. “It’s been many years. Why?”
No Umbros magic tingle. Not a lie .
So Doriel wasn’t there the day my father was murdered. But their representatives were—House Benette had invited them to stay after the ball.
House Benette... the same House I’d angered the day he was killed.
Shadows swirled at my palms.
“Diem?”
My eyes shot up.
“The bonded bargain?” Doriel’s brows lifted. “You still want me to talk to Meros, don’t you? I doubt they’ll vote in your favor without my urging.”
I forced myself to breathe and willed my hammering heart to quiet.
I couldn’t risk making accusations. I needed that vote from Meros. I certainly wouldn’t get support from Ignios or Umbros, and Faunos was too much of a wild card to risk my mother’s fate on.
After the ritual, I could find the Sophos representatives, force my way into their minds to get the truth—and if Doriel did have a hand in my father’s death, my war would start much earlier than planned.
I clenched my jaw and banished my magic. “Right. The bargain.”
Doriel nicked their thumb, drawing a spot of blood, then offered the knife to me.
With shaky hands, I gripped the hilt. “You vow to do everything you can to convince the Meros King to vote for a pardon for me and my mother? And you’ll recommend the other Crowns do the same?”
“I will. And you... do you swear that you didn’t know about the attack on the island or the attack on my realm—and you vow to kill the man who led it?”
I nodded stiffly, then raised the blade to my palm.
And froze.
Luther was right—I didn’t want to kill Ophiucae.
Andrei’s murder had left a gaping hole in my heart, and though no one could ever replace him, I missed having a father in my life.
Wasn’t Ophiucae my father, too—by blood, if nothing else? He had marked me with his sigil to protect me against his people’s attacks, and he’d asked me to rule at his side. He had even spared the people of Sophos when he could have simply killed me and finished the job. Perhaps I was something more to him than just the woman who broke his chains.
I wanted to try to save him. I wanted a chance to understand him. Maybe even to love him.
My gaze locked on the blade in my hand, so similar to the one that had taken my father’s life. That loss had nearly destroyed me. What would this one do to my soul—especially if I was the one who dealt the killing blow?
The knot in my gut tightened.
But maybe Luther was also right that Ophiucae couldn’t be redeemed. He’d killed innocent Descended and taken their children gods knew where. His violent hatred of the Descended might be woven too deep to ever be unspooled.
And I had a duty to protect the people of Emarion—whatever the cost.
My eyes briefly closed.
War is death and misery and sacrifice . War is making choices that haunt you for the rest of your days.
I sliced the blade across my palm.
Our hands clasped, and a spark of my magic sank beneath Doriel’s skin and theirs into mine. The sensation of shackles clamped tight around my wrist.
My fate was sealed.
And now, so was Ophiucae’s.