36. Kyros
Chapter thirty-six
Kyros
There’s no use in holding anything back.
If my thoughts about Shayd are correct, it's only a matter of time before Phaedra knows we’re here.
Nolan finally stops sputtering his disbelief the moment I step between Ruaan and Astraea.
His sudden silence is confirmation he understands what is happening here.
My hand curls around Astraea’s narrow waist. My fingers flex into her side, and in this moment I wish more than anything that I could pull her into the closest room.
I loved every second I saw of her openly seething at the act Nolan was putting on.
She is divine. Every time I touch her, every time I hear that small influx of breath she sucks in, and the way her body somehow both goes rigid and while also melting into me…
Just seeing how she physically reacts to even being within proximity of me does unimaginable things to even my most basic thoughts.
“Shula,” I say, leaning down to press a kiss to her temple.
I think it's my new favorite spot to lay kisses.
Especially around other people. Easing back, I look down just as she looks up, and I earn the rose color that I love to see deepening her cheeks and those scorpion grass eyes—her gaze is the reason why I will continue to show her my affection before the world.
I will never get used to her looking at me like that, and I want the entire realm to witness it too.
“I hope you know what you’re doing.” She whispers, trying to look back at where Nolan is surely gawking open-mouthed.
I’m certain he couldn’t have expected any of this; witnessing me usher my intended through the halls of what he sees as his queen’s castle must have him in a frenzy.
Worry pulls the corners of Astraea's mouth down into a frown as she looks at me, but I can’t be worried right now.
In just a few short hours, it will be clear that no other queen will sit on the Diemos throne but the woman at my side, and that woman is not Phaedra.
“Viltarin would have gone straight to the library. That’s where we will go first. He and Rowan likely have a good jump on pulling tomes already.
I want everyone investigating all we can about the Umbra Vitae and any leads about you, confirming your relation to the Diemos throne or this possible prophecy.
” I force my steps to shorten as I notice Astraea struggle to keep up.
“And this banquet you’re throwing in the throne room?” Ruaan says with a quirked brow as his eyes bounce between Astraea and me.
“The banquet is just a formality.” I answer, but look toward the shadowed hall in front of us.
The castle is dark despite the early-afternoon sun that tries to come through the many frosted, narrow windows.
It doesn’t help that the majority of the arched windows are adorned with black curtains that further block any light.
It's like Phaedra’s presence is everywhere in this castle—ominous and lingering.
Like a stench from spoiled food. It’s something I will change immediately if the castle is where Astraea wants to call home.
While I may have downplayed it, the banquet is truthfully more than a mere formality.
I know once word gets back to Phaedra of my arrival here, there is no way that she will allow anyone else to intervene.
She will come here herself, and once she’s distracted, that's when we get Mavros and Zinya out of Eathian. My plan may be fragmented, but it’s all we have for now. I have to get them back.
That gives us more reason to hurry and find out what we can in the library.
I know that Phaedra has someone who can portal; that much is evident.
I am taking my chances, hoping that her source is not currently here in Diemos but rather still at her side in Eathian.
Meaning, whatever way they have to get word to her, it will at least take some time.
Time we need. Seems to be the common theme of our lives these days, always chasing time we don't have.
The library is all cherry wood and dark walls.
Rugs of maroon, deep blue, and gold accents litter the floor, and heavy drapes that match the moody coloring line the walls.
The fabric closes the windows off from the books like an endless night has fallen over them.
Candelabras throughout the cavernous room hold long white candles that flicker and illuminate the space around them in dancing light, and the scent of dust and paper lingers in the air.
I’ve spent my fair share of time here in this library.
Most of the time alone. Not many people who’ve called this castle home over the years found comfort in these books as I often did.
Rowan and I found this place to be a reprieve we both needed when training had chewed us up and spit us out.
“Look’s like the Umbra Vitae are cool as shit.
” Beckett says, barely looking up from the book he has splayed out in front of him.
I pull the chair out across from him and offer the seat to Astraea.
She eagerly sits and reaches for one of the tomes piled to the side.
Beckett shakes his head, placing his hand over hers on the stack.
“Sorry, Rowan has one you may want to start with,” he says, and his cheeks deepen in color before he jerks his hand from hers.
“You should have let her read this one a while ago.” Rowan says as he steps into the light offered by the tall candles in the center of the long table.
He places the familiar red book, its gold mandala glinting in the firelight, down on the table in front of Astraea.
The muscle in my jaw ticks, and I can feel a sense of frustration mounting.
Though it’s not with anything Rowan has done, but rather with myself.
There are many things I should have done a while ago.
Starting with the fact that I should have realized so much sooner how much of my life was being molded by people who only wanted power.
They manipulated a young boy who had just lost everything.
I was so blinded by the darkness of my circumstances that I couldn’t see what was glaringly obvious.
“I planned to tell you everything.” I say to only her as my finger brushes along the outside of her hand, then turn my attention to Rowan, “But I also could only read so much of it myself. Seeing as Connard sheltered her from much of the world, I doubt that learning an ancient language of any kind was on her study schedule.” I bite out the words and immediately regret the harshness of my tone.
With a frustrated sigh, I scrub my hand down my face.
I open my eyes when Astraea gathers my other hand in hers, pulling me closer to her.
“You’re right. I wouldn’t have been able to read anything more than you had, maybe even less.
” She looks away to meet Rowan's speculative eyes. “But you’re here now, and I take it you can read it. We need to learn as much as we can, so please, instead of gaslighting, why don’t you enlighten us?
” I blink, taken back by her tenacity. My eyes slide to her, encouraging her fortitude with a gentle nod before scanning the room.
I take in the looks on every face staring back at her and they appear to be feeling the same.
“And why don’t we start with your accusation that I was hiding my magick purposefully? ” Shit.
“You what?” Kellan asks, shock pulling his brows down in the center of his forehead.
Rowan doesn’t look at Astraea, though; his furious gaze is instead locked on me.
Betrayal is written in the shadows casting over his face, but when she starts speaking again, his focus shifts solely on her, and every word she speaks softens his features.
“You may not know me, so I can’t fault you for thinking that I would do that.
You know my father and his crimes, but what you don’t know is that I too was one of his victims. I’m not angry that you’re skeptical.
It only shows that you’re smart, and warning Kyros about the possibility that I’m a threat proves that you are a loyal friend. But you’re also wrong.”
Rowan begins to open his mouth as if to defend himself, but before he can, Astraea holds up a hand and silences him as she continues, “If I had known—if I had access to this sort of power—I would have done all that I could to stop his tyranny over Eathian a long time ago. With each death at his hands, I’ve felt the blood on my own.
I assure you, I am on your side.” Heat rises in my blood with her declaration.
I have fallen so hard for her. Not for the flame that burns in my chest, not for the power our alliance may bring, and not for the revenge it may look like I am seeking—but for her heart.
The softness in which she delivers her truth.
She could have turned bitter and filled with rage, but instead she continually chooses to live with her whole heart, despite the cracks threatening to sharpen it.
She is confronted with doubt in her character and meets it with understanding over hostility.
It’s a trait that I have lacked all my life, and seeing her wield it so effortlessly is a magick of its own variety.
My thumb rubs supportive strokes across the back of her hand where she still holds onto mine like an anchor.
She looks at it before giving me a small smile.
The fight has left Rowan’s eyes, and he lets out a long breath before he begins to tell her what should come from me. I can’t let that happen.
“Fine, we—” Rowan blusters.
“What spurred that line of thinking in Rowan… Well, not just Rowan. Viltarin, Ruaan, and I also think that you may have ties to the Zavian somehow.” I interrupt Rowan, needing her to hear this from me.
I bend my knees and sit on my heels, bringing my eyes down to her level where she sits in the chair.
When I lean in, she pulls my hand into her lap, cradling it there as her brows knit together and her eyes bore into mine.
I hesitate only a moment before I exhale, keeping my eyes locked with hers.
“Shula, I don’t think Connard is your father.” There is a collective silence as the whole room takes in my words. Astraea blinks. I can see the thoughts run over her face as she wordlessly works through the emotions that statement has left her with.
“I have to agree with Kyros here, Astraea.” Kellan limps from the shadowed area between bookshelves with Colette under his arm as a crutch as he continues, “The way Connard was talking the last time I saw him––the amount of fear and anger he showed—it wasn't like the fear of losing someone you love. It was fear that makes you want to run.” His left leg drags behind him, scraping across the stone floor in their shuffle. As they reach the rugged area, his boot snags the carpet, and he pitches forward. Colette grunts at his need for more support, and it’s Viltarin who steps in to help him to a chair.
Kellan drops into it with a grunt of pain.
Astraea still says nothing, but her eyes lock with her best friends. I understand the kind of conversation that lies in the silence of that connection between their eyes. It's a knowing look that I’ve shared so many times with Mavros.
Colette is the one who breaks their stare, dropping her gaze to the ground. The moment fractured, and the look of hurt cresting in Astraea’s eyes. I pull her attention back to me with a slight tug on the hand that is still wrapped in mine.
“This doesn’t change anything.” I say gently, hoping this isn’t the final blow that takes her down and by a man who has no right taking a single thing more from her. She shakes her head, eyes looking through me rather than at me.
“No, it changes everything.” She says more to herself than to any of us.
Her voice is too quiet as her features pinch, and she seems to consider the weight of those words.
Standing suddenly, she looks down at where I stay crouched.
“I was a prisoner. Not—a daughter. It all makes sense now.” Her lip trembles with emotion as she turns her gaze back to Colette and Kellan.
“I always wondered how a father could treat a daughter the way he treated me. How a man could speak of the mother of his child the way that he did mine? But he wasn’t a father at all, was he?
” Colette steps forward to comfort Astraea, but Kellan holds her back.
“Guys…” Beckett says, pulling all of our attention to him where he has several books laid out in front of him. “I hate to add kindling to the fire, but I think I found something…”