Chapter 61
Vera
The thought of arriving in Moneyre has me nervous.
My heart picks up in pace as the terrifying thoughts I’ve ignored since I told Ikar everything rise to the surface now that we exit the cave of the nymphs and enter into gloamy lucent forest. I don’t know how to be a queen.
For that matter, I don’t even really know how to be a Black Tulip.
Will I know how to bridge when it’s time?
And how will people receive me once they know what I am? It’s all beginning to feel very real.
Ikar squeezes my hand, and it breaks me from the fearful thoughts. It’s then I realize how hard I’ve been clutching him.
He raises a brow. “Are you okay?”
“Just thinking about what’s next.” I try to sound confident, but I know he’ll see straight through it.
His eyes soften with understanding. “We landed closer this time, about half a day’s journey to the sharp flyers, so we should reach them anytime now.
When we return to Moneyre we’ll need to marry quickly so we can bridge.
” His brow furrows with an unspoken apology.
“There isn’t time for lengthy planning for the ceremony. ”
That doesn’t bother me. I don’t need a fancy ceremony, I just need Ikar. But I am curious about one thing.
“Can you bridge without being married?” I ask.
Ikar pauses. “I’ve read nothing that says you can’t.”
“So we could bridge right now?” I know I sound overeager, but I need answers. If we can fix this right now, why don’t we?
He smirks. “If I had the tulip, I suppose. It’s in Moneyre.
Both the king and Tulip have to touch it to bridge, but traditionally marriage comes first. In our case, I feel it’s even more important that our people see us marry to present a united front and build their confidence with a Black Tulip as queen once again. ”
At my concerned look, he adds, “They’ll be hesitant at first, but they’ll come around once they get to know you.”
“Sounds wonderful,” I whisper.
He chuckles. We walk in comfortable silence, hand in hand, until Ikar speaks again.
“Will you tell me about the rest of the Tulips now?”
“What do you want to know?”
“Everything.”
I laugh, feeling almost giddy that I can finally share this part of my life with him. “There are eight of us. Tatania is our leader, but acts more like a mother. Renna, my best friend, she’s a Tulip too—”
“So I was right,” he interrupts with a cocky smile.
“About what?”
“I guessed you didn’t want to tell me about the list because your friend was on it. I thought you were just jealous.”
“I would’ve been,” I say, unashamed. Feeling a little bold, I add, “The only Tulip you can ever have in your arms is me.”
And we’ll be married in days.
The roguish half-smile on his lips sparks a fire within me. “As you command, my lady. I am yours alone.”
The blush on my cheeks deepens at the look of warm promise in his gaze, but he takes mercy on me a moment later and redirects the conversation. “You were telling me about the Tulips?”
“Oh. Er—Yes…” I stumble over my words as I try to get my mind off the thought of Ikar’s arms around me, his lips on mine… “I mentioned Tatania and Renna, and there’s also Fina, who I’ve always looked up to. She’s—”
“They’re gone!” Darvy shouts from ahead.
Rhosse curses.
“Hold that thought.” Ikar squeezes my hand, then releases it and jogs ahead.
I grumble to myself as I watch him go, imagining the long trek we have back to Moneyre without the sharp flyers to help. Now it will be even longer before we can wed—not that I’m impatient at all. But I can almost tangibly feel my mood darkening the more I think about it.
Rupi’s warning chirps sound from the treetops just before I hear swords clash through the thickening chill gloam encroaching around us.
Dread snakes through my body as my steps slow, and Rupi shoots to my neck, quilling up on my shoulder.
Her feathers prick into my neck hard enough to draw blood, but I ignore it as I run forward, pulling lucent and sending it farther than I’ve ever tried in order to reach the men ahead.
I catch sight of Ikar through the shadows, and he meets my eyes.
I don’t know what to think of the unfamiliar expression on his face, a mix of panic and fury, as he attempts to get back to me.
He yanks his sword from a gloam soldier and kicks him to the ground before he sprints to reach me, only to have two more soldiers corner him.
He roars in frustration as he blocks their swings with expert precision.
The look on his face and the presence of gloam soldiers can only mean—
The unmistakable chill of the horribly familiar gloam noose snakes around my neck, and when he whispers near my ear, I’m not even surprised. Renton.
“Miss me, my queen?”
Fury grows so hot in my chest it feels as if I might combust. I finally have hope and happiness in my grasp, and he shows up to snatch it away.
I throw my elbow back in an attempt to take him off guard, but he grabs it and twists it behind my back, while tightening the noose around my neck, leaving me choking for air and gasping from pain.
I’ve never hated anyone so much in my life.
Amidst the sharp pain in my twisted shoulder, my thoughts spin. Renton said the bracelet weakened the Tulip’s power… I did destroy a deathstalker with a simple lucent orb. Can I do that to this noose? Can I free myself, maybe even kill Renton?
I draw lucent into my free hand and clap it around my neck.
The noose bursts into dark, misty ashes that seems to surprise Renton as much as I.
He loosens his grip on my elbow momentarily and I spin, pulling lucent and shoving it at him.
I don’t know what I expected, ideally him exploding…
at least something. Instead he shouts at me, as if it merely pained him, and trades the gloam noose for his own arm around my neck, pulling me back roughly against his chest.
“Stop, or she suffers,” Renton shouts.
Ikar blocks one more swing, pushes the gloam soldier’s sword away from him and steps back, breathing heavily, a look so dark crossing his features that even I feel afraid of him for a moment.
Rhosse and Darvy pull back from the fight as well.
Renton forces me forward, and I find we’re surrounded by at least thirty cloaked figures.
I try to swallow, but it feels like shards of ice scrape my throat with how tightly his arm wraps around my neck.
I feel the freezing gloam waiting to knock me out, hovering just above my skin.
I can’t be the one who ruins our kingdom.
Ikar, Darvy, and Rhosse stand tall, their arms pulled painfully tight behind their backs as they face us, and tension fills the space.
“I’ve come to your rescue,” Renton drawls near my ear. “It appears my timing was impeccable.” He brushes the back of a finger along my jawline. “Can’t have you marrying anyone but me. We have plans… remember?” he finishes with a raspy whisper.
My body tenses as I try to jerk away, but he tightens his arm, and I end up choking on a painful shout instead.
He hands me off to one of his soldiers, then spins toward Ikar, Darvy, and Rhosse as he laughs.
“I wondered how it would feel to meet my long-lost nephew in person. Ironic that we desire the same woman, isn’t it?
” He turns his gaze to Darvy and Rhosse.
“Lowly knights of Moneyre, meet Renton, King of the Shadows and true heir to the throne of Moneyre. Soon to be your liege.” He lowers into a dramatic bow.
Ikar’s face is a mask of hard granite, no emotion shown besides furious anger in the depths of his eyes. He offers no response to Renton’s taunting. Darvy and Rhosse stare at Renton with condescension, but hide it well. I’m sure mine is written all over my face, as usual.
How does he always find me?
“No honor at my introduction?” Renton asks the two men, his brows raising with mock offense. They stare at him, stoic and silent.
He pulls out a knife with a blade black as night faster than my eyes can track and holds it at Darvy’s neck. “You will bow before me,” he commands.
Darvy’s jaw tightens. “I’ve sworn my sword and magic to Ikar, High King of Moneyre. He is the only liege I kneel to.”
The knife presses deeper and a trickle of blood trails down Darvy’s neck. A scream builds as I fear the worst will happen, then Renton whisks it away, sheathing it. “I cannot fault honor or your loyalty, as they will serve me well when it’s me you’re bound to.”
“The tulip,” he calls, waving his fingers.
One of the gloam soldiers steps forward with the special case that holds the tulip Rupi gifted Ikar, and a strangled gasp escapes my throat.
Renton plucks the perfectly formed flower from its protective depths and sways it beneath his nose, inhaling as if it’s the oxygen he needs to survive.
I suppose he does, in a way. I don’t miss the surprised anger on Ikar’s face before he swiftly masks it.
This is not good.
“Did Lucentia find you worthy, then?” Sarcasm laces Ikar’s voice.
Renton lifts a derisive brow as he rolls the stem of the flower between his fingers.
“No, but someone else did.” He grins with satisfaction.
“I traded this in exchange for the lives of you and your two friends—a trade much in my favor.” He chuckles.
“The Field of Tulips has evaded me for years. Not only have you delivered a tulip into my hands, albeit inadvertently, but also our Queen of the Night.” He throws a look of censure toward Ikar.
“You really should choose your friends… or should I say lovers, more wisely.”
He steps up to Ikar, a hand’s width from his chest, twirling the tulip beneath his nose. “Does it look as perfect to you as it does to me?” But he turns to look at me.
Ikar’s jaw clenches, and I see a vein in his neck throb. I’ve never seen him this angry.
Renton drifts to my side, a soft smile about his lips. “All that is left is to marry and bridge, and Moneyre will be beneath my rule, as it was always meant to be.” He turns his head to ensure Ikar will hear. “Our wedding night will be divine,” he whispers loudly, drawing out the last word.
Ikar snaps, and I send a torrent of lucent magic to him, Darvy, and Rhosse.
He easily breaks free of the grasp of the cloaked soldier who held him, forcefully throwing an elbow back and catching the man in the throat, dropping him to the ground.
He tears his enchanted sword from its sheath, but I can’t see much else as spots begin to sprinkle my vision.
I try to keep lucent flowing, but air is also required, and there’s not enough with the gloam soldier squeezing the life from me.
All thirty of the cloaked figures charge with shouts toward the three men as lucent lessens to a trickle through my body.
My vision blackens for a moment, my body growing limp from lack of air.
All I hear is fuzzy shouting, and then… the gloam lifts, and I gasp for air, coughing and heaving violently.
I successfully draw a full lungful of air only to find Ikar, Darvy, and Rhosse once again captured and forced to their knees with their hands behind their heads.
“I thought you cared for her.” Renton shakes his head, testing the blade of the wicked black sword he has yet to use with his fingers, and looking at Ikar as if he’s a despicable being.
“You won’t kill her,” Ikar growls.
It sounds more like a warning than a statement.
“Don’t kill them. Please,” I beg, still panting, my voice rough.
Renton looks at me, somewhat disappointed, as he purses his lips. “I already promised their lives, darling. I’m a man of my word. Besides, it will endear the people of the kingdom to me if I’m not the one to kill their beloved, weak king and his lowly commanders. I’ll let them do it themselves.”
“His people won’t kill him,” I hiss.
He laughs, sheathing the blade. “Oh, but they will.”
I try to spit at him, but it has never been one of my talents, and it lands far short of his annoying billowy cloak and shiny boots. A dirty hand claps quickly over my mouth, making breathing difficult once again.
He smiles with apparent approval. “The flower is blooming.”
I meet Ikar’s eyes across the distance, fighting despair. Something in his gaze bolsters me, reminds me to stay strong. But how?
Renton turns and signals with a nod to the three men holding Ikar, Darvy, and Rhosse.
In tandem, they raise the pommels of their swords and slam them down.
The three men fall to the ground. I scream beneath the hand over my mouth, writhing until my throat feels as if it’s collapsing beneath the pressure of the man’s arm.
He squeezes tightly, sending gloam colder than sheets of ice through me as dots dance before my eyes, and then it’s all black.