Chapter 16
Ikar
Another portion of my mark turned black, waking me in the night with its horrid burn.
I caught Darvy’s attention with the sound of my curse while he took his turn keeping watch, but he said nothing.
He already knows what it means. It’s a physical indicator for me to know the state of my kingdom.
It wasn’t good before, but now it’s worse.
Since I’m up anyway, I volunteer to take my turn at watch, early.
I feel antsy as I wait for the suns to begin their trek back across the sky.
The dark lingers too long, and I find my knee bouncing before I promptly still it.
I get irritated when those around me fidget, so it’s alarming to find myself doing so.
But the further darkening of my mark and the vast amount of gloam in these mountains has me feeling close to panic—as if I’m stuck watching sand fall through an hourglass with only the smallest bit left, unable to turn it over when it runs out.
I cannot fail.
My people have been resilient these many years, but they are weakening—dying, even.
I’ve lost some of my best soldiers just for attempting to pull lucent when there was none during battle.
It’s something I don’t think anyone considered when they decided to do away with Black Tulips and their bridging all those years ago.
I watch Rupi work her way out of Vera’s blankets, tumbling out before she rights herself and flutters to perch on my knee.
She may not be Arrow, Simon, or Champion, my own pets, but I’ve come to love her all the same and appreciate her company.
I stroke her soft feathers as my thoughts turn to the Black Tulips I search for.
Jethonan says he has no idea where they might be, though he certainly believes they still exist. Do I believe they still exist?
The question tugs uncomfortably, and I rub my tight chest with a frown.
Lucentia wouldn’t just stop sending Queens of the Night, would she?
I shake my head. It does no good to wonder since this is the only good plan we have. Besides, there was an entire list of them—if it’s to be trusted. I frown as I’m reminded that I did win it in an illegal fight ring.
The other plan, the one where I find Lucentia and offer her my life in exchange for lucent for my people, I’ve kept to myself—even from Jethonan.
It’s doubtful my life would be worth enough to trade for my kingdom’s well-being anyway, so it has become Plan B though I feel selfish for making it so.
Wouldn’t it be faster to just offer myself up and see?
Maybe my family line isn’t worthy enough and a new one needs to start fresh.
But something in my soul, a fire within, pushes me to make this all right—it’s my duty.
Rhosse’s quiet movements as he rises and proceeds to wake the others draw me from the thoughts that plagued me.
I savor the distraction—especially Vera.
I allow myself one lingering glance as she runs her fingers through her long wavy brown hair as she prepares to rebraid it, and think of how soft those strands felt beneath my hands when we kis—
No. Don’t go there.
I move Rupi to my shoulder and stand. I need to busy myself. I begin packing up our camp, but my eyes rebelliously find Vera once more, and she meets my glance with a soft smile that tempts me to linger.
I duck my head and run a hand through my hair with an inward groan. How much can one man take?
We finally escape a field of prickly plants that stand taller than even Rhosse.
Their light-green stems as wide as a grown man appear soft to the touch, topped with large spiky purple balls that had me concerned for our safety if one happened to drop.
But we found rather quickly that the true weapon was the facade of the softness of their stalks that clawed at our clothing as if they attempted to keep us trapped within their clutches.
Darvy finishes tearing a bit of his sleeve from the last of them before we break free. I’m surprised to find that I’m so relieved to be out of the prickly plants that I’m somewhat happy to be back in shadowy, gloamy forest again.
Here and there I see patches of color, and it catches my eye—bright-green moss on a portion of a fallen log, a lone flower yet to wilt and lose its luster, a tree every now and then that retains its health.
It hints at what this forest was once like and gives me a small bit of hope that maybe the nymphs still live.
Rupi’s happy chirps on my shoulder don’t seem to belong in a forest such as this, but I’m grateful for the sense of normalcy it brings. After a moment, she flutters over to Rhosse where she sidesteps along his shoulder, having become quite taken with him these past days.
I glance over my shoulder, and my eyes meet Vera’s, and before I can think about it, I’m slowing my steps until we walk nearly side by side, allowing Darvy and Rhosse to take the lead.
Our hands brush, and I sense her awareness.
It would be easy to snag her fingers in mine, and if it were just she and I, I would.
The attraction we share hasn’t dissipated—if anything it continues to burn stronger, but we both resist its flame.
Darvy and Rhosse’s presence also reminds me of my duty.
Do I appreciate it? No.
Is it needed? Very much so.
I shouldn’t care, since I have to find a Tulip to marry soon. Still, it bothers me like skin with a splinter snagging on cloth, and I wish things could be different.
Vera smirks. “Rupi has found a new favorite.” She eyes the way Rupi nips at Rhosse’s ear in an attempt to gain his attention.
“You jealous?”
She smiles. “Nah. She might act like she has other favorites, but she always comes back to me.”
When she speaks again, her voice is somewhat hesitant. “I’m wondering… about the journal, er—the flower…” I lift my brows as I wait for her to get the rest out. “What happens if the king doesn’t find a Queen of the Night to bridge with?”
“Do you have suggestions?” I ask, truly curious. Desperate for another option—one where Vera and I can be together.
She shrugs a shoulder. “Don’t have one yet, but since no one knows if the Queens of the Night even exist, it might be good to have a backup plan.”
“There is one. A last resort,” I answer impulsively, and immediately regret it. I’m too comfortable around her. It’s dangerous.
She looks at me expectantly, but I hesitate to say it—it exposes the selfish side of me. But there’s part of me that is truly curious about what she’ll think. I find that I value her perspective.
“Can I trust you’ll keep it between us?” I ask, voice quiet.
She nods, her expression matching my serious tone.
“If no Queen of the Night can be found who is willing to bridge, the high king has considered finding Lucentia and offering his life in exchange for the restoration of lucent. Allowing her to choose a new, worthier line of kings who will keep the oath originally given Lucentia for the magic given us.”
Vera considers for a moment, nodding. “It’s not a bad idea, you know. That family line has really botched things.”
My face pales, and my jaw tightens at her blunt words. What did I expect? Her opinion matches mine; it’s just painful to hear it spoken aloud.
She bumps her shoulder against my arm teasingly. “Maybe she’d choose you.”
Her words ease the sting of her previous honesty, but I can’t find it in me to act as lightly as expected.
She continues, unperturbed. “What? You’d be a worthy replacement. You’re already a respected High Officer and, from the looks of things, well-versed in royal rules and such. And, as an extra bonus, you seemed right at home in the castle.”
Now I can’t keep the grin from my face. “Royal rules and such?” I chuckle and shake my head.
She nods again. “Yeah, I think that plan B should become plan A. It would save us a whole lot of trouble, and I’m positive Lucentia will choose you. You’ll make a great king.”
I’m unsure how to respond. “I’ll take that as a… compliment. Though it sounds a rather treasonous opinion.”
“You won’t tell the king, will you?” She says it with a lilt of sarcasm and a somewhat dramatic whisper. Her shoulder brushes my arm with unnoticed familiarity, and her gray eyes are bright in this moment of unguarded lightness. She’s not making it any easier to put distance between us.
“I’ll not speak those words aloud. You have my word.” I place my hand across my heart, and while it’s there, I rub the tightness from my chest caused by the ever-building guilt I feel for continuing to hide my true identity from her.
Vera laughs, but it fizzles out like steam from water-drenched fire as a snarl sounds, raising the hair on my arms. I instinctively step in front of her while simultaneously reaching for my sword. Rhosse and Darvy both turn back, unsheathing their own weapons.
“We’ll be needing that lucent now,” I mutter.