Chapter 9
Aedlin
Before Dother’s Death
Delicate white silk slipped through Aedlin’s fingers as she tore the sheets off her bed.
They disgusted her. Her upper lip curled—she disgusted herself.
The rhythmic clack of the wooden bedframe banging against the wall still rattled in her mind, nausea clawing at her throat.
She swallowed hard against it, nearly gagging at the lingering taste of Dother’s fertility concoction.
Even now, bitter notes of vinegar with hints of copper coated her tongue.
It had been hours since he’d left, not sparing her a single word before slamming the door with such vigor the walls shook.
She’d spent the rest of the night frozen, clutching Kalyan’s pillow.
Replaying her betrayal over and over, until the sun yanked the moon from the sky, assaulting her eyes with its burning light and forcing her to face the day.
Aedlin wasn’t sure she could.
She hissed in pain when she rounded the bed and ripped the corner of the last sheet free. Bruises in the shape of Dother’s fingers pulsed on her hips and thighs. An echo of his furious grip. A haunting reminder that, no matter how hard she tried to forget, last night happened.
It hadn’t mattered that she’d faced away, staring at the floral patterns carved into the wood as she endured Dother’s punishing thrusts. Nor that he’d barely undressed and took her quickly.
She’d lain with another man. In her and Kalyan’s bed.
How could Kalyan ever forgive her?
How would she ever forgive herself?
Her breathing hitched, shame washing over her in thick waves.
It’s not your fault, my love.
Kalyan’s soothing voice wrapped around her, the cadence smooth and gentle. Promising sanctuary. As it always had.
Without thought, she brought the sheets to her nose and inhaled. It was how she’d survived the nights since death had taken him from her, his warm, woodsy aroma all she had left.
Citrus invaded her lungs instead, crowding out any hints of Kalyan.
Another mark of her fucking treachery.
Falling to her knees, Aedlin silently cried, her grip loosening until the blankets pooled around her on the floor.
Kal was truly gone.
A crack skittered up her heart, tearing it apart piece by piece until she gasped for breath. She pressed her hand against her chest, clawing at the soft cotton of her nightdress until the pale skin beneath turned red.
The Council had what they wanted—a new king to balance the throne. Mora would live, the Althenis line would survive, and Aedlin...
Aedlin would drown.
A soft knock sounded on her bedroom door. Aedlin exhaled deeply, pushing back against her grief. It was time to be queen, and queens didn’t have the luxury of feeling. At least, not openly.
“One moment,” she said, voice steady. Regal. No hint of the pain living within her.
Rising to her feet, she wiped the moisture from her face with her forearm and lifted her chin, gritting her teeth until she could pretend she felt nothing at all.
“Who is it?” she called out as she shrugged on a robe and made for the door.
“It’s Rosemary, Your Majesty.”
The queen frowned. What was Mora’s lady-in-waiting doing visiting her chambers this early in the morning? “Come in.”
Rosemary bowed once she entered the queen’s bedroom, light brown hair slipping over her face. Not fast enough, however, to hide the worry in her expression.
“What happened?” Aedlin asked.
The lady’s fingers twisted in her pale yellow gown. “Have you seen Mora since the wedding?”
Dread sank its teeth into Aedlin’s soul. She clasped her hands in front of her stomach, begging herself to remain composed. “Has she run off again?”
“Mora’s gone,” Dother said, his face grave as he slipped past Rosemary and entered the room. He straightened his royal blue waistcoat, the sharp points of his crown mocking Aedlin from atop his head.
The queen’s muscles tensed, her threaded fingers tightening until her bones screamed.
“Get. Out,” she commanded, each word clipped.
She couldn’t find it in herself to care that Rosemary watched.
That this was not how one should greet their new husband.
The mask she donned slipped, Aedlin’s fury trickling free.
“I am not decent, and you are not welcome in my rooms without invitation.”
Dother’s eyes narrowed at the rumpled sheets on the floor. He caressed the bottle at his hip, tension draining from his shoulders as his fingers slid over the golden filigree.
“Are you not concerned for your daughter?”
That piercing azure gaze bored into her. Seeing too much. Analyzing every crack in her facade. She crossed her arms as if that could shield her somehow. “Mora always comes back,” she said, pacing across the room to her window. “Call for Philip, he’ll know what to do.”
Moldenna’s wealthiest homes stood tall and proud in the distance, their dark slate shingles bathed in the enervating glow of morning light.
Where had Mora run off to? Another pub? The Moldennan Gardens?
A gambling house? She’d been furious and drunk when she’d left the wedding reception.
Aedlin ground her teeth—it wasn’t safe for Mora out there without protection, especially in an inebriated state.
Rosemary chewed her bottom lip, while pity softened Dother’s features. “We spoke already,” he said, his voice too gentle, like a delicate tap on fractured glass waiting to shatter to pieces. “He searched all night and found no sign of her...”
The room spun. Aedlin stumbled to the gray lounge chair across from her bed.
She needed to sit. To think. It was Kalyan’s reading nook.
Left as it was the day he died. Sinking into the cushioned seat, Aedlin pulled her love’s sweater from the armrest and hugged it tightly, cocooning herself in his scent.
Thanking the gods it was untouched by Dother’s suffocating citrus.
“She left the wedding early”—Aedlin’s voice cracked—"no one knows where she went?”
The king shook his head. “Philip watched her return to her rooms but thought it best not to bother her.” There was a dangerous gleam in his eyes, his blame for Philip clear. “No one saw her leave after that.”
“Where is Philip now?”
“Waiting in the hall for your instructions,” Rosemary said, her footsteps soft as she moved to stand before the queen. She offered a small smile. “He’ll find her, Your Majesty.”
Aedlin nodded. Mora was never gone more than a night, there was no reason to panic...
yet, she couldn’t convince her mind to stop racing.
Somehow, this felt different. “Have him gather the guards at the gatehouse. I will make myself decent and meet him there so we can discuss a proper search of the castle and Moldenna. We’ll find her. ”
“Of course, my queen.” Dother’s ring clinked against the glass bottle on his belt as he saw himself out, the onyx mist inside flinching away from his touch.