Chapter 23
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
MORGANA
O h, how na?ve I was. I thought that after the hours I’d spent fighting tooth and nail for that ledger, he might even show me a bit of compassion or empathy. But alas, there was nothing inside him but darkness and contempt. My back ached from the pressure with which he’d pressed me against that tree, but that wasn’t what bothered me. Not really, at least.
I fought every day of my life. A bit of back-and-forth did not faze me. What did, however, was how dangerously tempting it was to have his lips so close to mine. After everything he’d done to me, I still succumbed to such selfish, foolish desires?
The guards kept their distance, to my delight, and I roamed the corridors with the semblance of freedom. Many of the doors were locked, including the ones that led to the gardens, but I’d carved a path into a gallery lined with portraits and artifacts. Much of it I cared little about, but I stopped in front of the grandest one. It was newer, based on the vibrancy of the paints alone, and featured the monarchs—a queen and king—as well as their two children. It always struck me as odd that they didn’t try to create a lineage of heirs in order to secure their throne, but as my focus dragged to the swirls painted on his hands, I reckoned I wouldn’t want to bring more children into the world than necessary if it were my duty.
My gaze trailed back up to his face, frustration sizzling deep in my chest again. The artist had done an immaculate job at conveying such smug arrogance. It was written on his face, from the glimmer in his eyes to the smirk on his lips. He’d live with that countenance for all of eternity. If it was worth the history text, I hoped they colored him a villain.
There were a lot of things I hoped for, in fact. I reached for my mouth to appease the curious tingle. Perhaps I should kiss him, if only to solidify the idea that he’d be as terrible as I’d hoped. Yes, then I could continue my day as a glorified prisoner who supposedly had magic despite never using it during any of the other twenty-five years I’d lived.
Part of me wondered if it was all a joke. A ruse to keep me here until Aster fattened me up for whatever sacrifice he put all those poor victims through. The rumors involving the crown were always ugly, but those about Aster, even faceless to the masses, were the most gruesome.
Perhaps it was the mysterious intrigue that harshened their reputation. Perhaps that was what they wanted. Fear went a long way with royalty.
I studied the painting of Aster’s sister, settled beside him. Her red dress reminded me of poison doused into bubbling wine. It was just as dangerous. And that smile? At best, suspicious. At worst, threatening.
The entire royal family was the depiction of chaos. A perfectly violent harmony smeared across a textured canvas, awaiting a historian to dig it up from the ashes of the kingdom. That was our fate, after all. If we did not fall at the hands of man, we’d fall by the talons of Vespera. The thought was enough to make me shudder, but when a cold hand cupped my shoulder, I nearly jumped out of my skin. I turned to find his sister beaming at me. How she had crept up behind me without my knowing was just as alarming as the chill that crawled down my spine.
“Lady Morgana.” Erynna tilted her head as if I were a small bird in need of attention. “Forgive me for intruding, but I saw you admiring our portraits and thought it was time to properly introduce myself.” She looked at me and held out her hand. Then, she leaned closer. “One without the prying ears of grumpy princes, aye? Princess Erynna Sinclair, of Verdantis.”
She curtsied, and I hesitated before mirroring her. “Morgana Kyllingham. Pleasure , Your Grace.” The formality was rancid on my tongue, but I knew better than to cause issues with a person who seemed to have a meaner bite than the crown prince himself. She hadn’t been unjust to me, yet, but there was a glimmer of violence in her dark eyes.
She scoffed, waving her hand and laughing. “None of that.” When Erynna turned her nose toward the portrait, she frowned. “Would you like to hear a funny story?”
A funny story? I wanted to say yes, terribly so, but anger brewed in my chest. I had no right to feel vengeful toward Princess Erynna, for she’d likely endured entirely different monstrosities as a daughter to the crown, but I was in no mood for jesting. Despite this, I sighed and followed her focus.
“I had been standing on the platform for hours. Felt like days, truly. Tell me, Morgana, have you ever been forced to stand for hours on end?” she asked and turned her attention to me fully. I didn’t think she expected an answer, but the air grew thick. I stammered for my words.
“I... well, in a way?” I said, recalling the month’s journey it took Galen and I to arrive at Verdantis. We spent many hours standing and waiting. “Yes, I’d say so.”
Erynna beamed. “Good. Great, even, as you may relate to this joke all the more. Well, you see, the artist my mother and father hired is absolutely mad. She kept complaining about voices and figures impairing her view, so she’d have to start over to perfect the base layers.”
I cringed. I couldn’t imagine having to stand, stiff and straight, for hours, even with all the travel my brother and I had endured. This was an entirely new level. A privileged one, yes, but an ordeal in itself. That said, I didn’t find myself wanting to laugh. I wanted to pat her on the shoulder and reward her for hours well spent.
Erynna sighed and looked back at the portrait. “Look closely at the portrait. Tell me what you notice. Does anything seem out of place?”
I furrowed my brow and sighed, taking a step closer to the painting. My eyes lingered over Aster’s face, feeling as if the eerily realistic irises trailed my every move. When I returned to the vision of Erynna, however, I fixated on every detail. Her hair was tidy, curled and pulled into a braid that draped over her shoulder. Her gown was meticulously detailed. The gems were shimmering so brightly in the paint that I questioned whether they were real or if the paint was still wet.
The eyes were an appropriate distance, and her mouth was only as brilliant as it was in reality. Then it stung me like a wasp. I gasped at the bent, mangled nose that was entirely too long and crooked to be one in the same as hers. I even flicked my focus between the portrait and her face, doubting what I was seeing.
Erynna chuckled at my reaction. “A mischievous detail the artist couldn’t resist adding,” she explained, a smirk playing on her lips. “Mother would have been furious when she noticed, but Father found it rather amusing. The artist was dismissed immediately, of course, but the portrait remained as it is now—an imperfection etched into history.”
I couldn’t help but smile at the story. There was a flicker of warmth in her demeanor—a welcome change from the incessant tension whenever Aster was nearby. “Would have been?”
Erynna’s smile twitched and she looked down. “My mother passed away while Aster and I were still away at the University. Father wanted her in the picture anyway. As if she hadn’t left us already.”
I paused. “Wait, Verdantis has no queen?”
“Ask yourself a question, Morgana. Have you ever seen her?” she asked and turned to me. “Nobody cares about the queen here. They only care about the king and his wretched heirs.”
The truth stung. I tore my focus from her and set it on the painting, nodding once. “Sounds like a terrible reality to live through, Princess.”
It was a rare moment of genuine truth in the stifling atmosphere of the palace. As she composed herself, a mischievous glimmer returned to her gaze and she stepped closer, lowering her voice conspiratorially.
“Between you and me, Morgana, I believe a touch of mystery keeps life interesting, don’t you think?” Her words were light.
I gave her a side-long glance. “Indeed,” I said and took a step back. “Forgive me, Princess Erynna, but I must return to—” I paused. I realized that the last place Aster had found me was in that wretched tower. Terror enveloped every one of my senses at the thought of having to face any one of those guards again. I shuddered but cleared my throat and turned away from the princess. “I must find out what sort of terrible things the crown prince has in store for me this evening.”
Erynna’s expression shifted, her shining demeanor giving way to a shrewd gleam in her crimson eyes. “Ah, the crown prince. You seem to have quite the aversion to him.” There was an edge to her words, a lingering uncertainty in the air like the scent of coming rain before a storm. “I saw it even the second those carriage doors opened. Rare to share a carriage with your captor.”
I turned back to face her again, meeting her gaze head-on, my own eyes narrowing slightly. “You could say that our interactions have not been the most pleasant.” Erynna’s presence was as unsettling as she was captivating, and I found myself treading carefully in her company. “And despite this ruse of free will, I understand that I am by no means free. Even if he let me go, I’ll always be under his watch.”
She circled around me with feline grace, her steps light against the polished marble floor. “Aster has always been difficult ,” she mused. “But his harsh words and commands belie a deeper turmoil.” I studied her closely when she came back into view. She smiled, as if we were friends. “I can help you with our difficult prince. You’ll be here for a while, but that doesn’t need to be an unfortunate thing.”
My instincts screamed at me to be wary, to not trust the honeyed words that dripped like sweet poison from Erynna’s lips. Yet, a small ember of curiosity flickered to life. She was just acting as an agent for her brother—she had to be—but even false friends could bring forth hope.
And with hope came power.
With a guarded frown, I said, “And what do you mean by that? How could you possibly assist me in dealing with Prince Aster’s difficulties ?” My voice was a mere whisper, laced with skepticism and a hint of desperation. Was this the beginning of something far greater than me? Treason, perhaps? I would never pretend to understand the inner workings of the crown, but often heirs held more than one target on their back. “Something tells me the crown prince has taken heads for far vaguer insults on his agency.”
Erynna’s smile widened into something predatory, a glint of satisfaction dancing across her entire being. She inched closer, her presence suffocating yet strangely alluring. I wanted to trust her, but I knew she had no reason to seek an alliance with me. “Oh, my dear Morgana, there are many ways we can benefit from one another. Aster is a guarded man, and he will give you only crumbs of information that could serve vital to your survival. We also share the same magic, by some stroke of luck. This magic empowers me, yet kills Aster. He utilizes his darkness in ways that are tempting, yet lethal. I do not care for theatrics, therefore I would teach you what is needed for survival—not just fear.”
I couldn’t shake the feeling that Erynna’s offer came with unseen strings attached, woven with intricate care to ensnare me in a web of her making. Her words painted a tempting picture, promising knowledge and power that could tip the scales in my favor.
Could Erynna truly be a guide in harnessing this raw power? Hells, I doubted it still even existed. It hadn’t been much help since I killed that arcanist in the morgue.
“I appreciate your offer, Princess Erynna,” I began cautiously. “But I struggle to understand what you stand to gain from such an agreement?”
“I do not stand to gain anything,” Erynna said with a small wink. She turned her nose toward the portrait, that glimmering mischief fading into something heart wrenching. I related to it without even having to ask. “I look at you and see a woman stripped of her power, placed into an environment that cares little of her opinion.” She sighed through her nose. “Aster is a decent enough man, even with his intricacies. I am not helping you for his sake, nor my own. I am merely offering a hand when I know nobody else can or will.”
Erynna’s words resonated with a truth that cut through the layers of deception. There was a vulnerability in her gaze, a fleeting glimpse of something genuine beneath the carefully crafted facade she wore like armor. Despite my reservations, I couldn’t deny the hope that sparked within me at the prospect of having an ally in this treacherous court.
If there was even a chance to unravel the mysteries that surrounded me, to find my missing brother and secure my own future, then I couldn’t afford to dismiss Erynna’s proposition outright.
Taking a deep breath to steady my nerves, I said, “Very well. As you have implied, it may serve me well to have a… friend in this palace.”
Erynna bowed her head as if I was owed the respect. “Then worry not. A friend is just what I will be.” She aimed toward the door but paused just as the hinges creaked. I didn’t turn, a wild storm of anticipation and terror swarming my body as I envisioned Aster’s rage. He could have our heads for the mere hint of treason laced between Erynna’s words. She’d not talked poorly of the crown, and I had my own beliefs that she was doing this for him and him alone, but if she wasn’t?
If this was an elaborate way to begin a coup?
Oh, gods. My heart raced, swelling into the middle of my throat as I closed my eyes.
“Cousin,” Erynna muttered between bitten teeth. I exhaled quietly, brows furrowed. I turned slowly, finding a man who held the resemblance of Aster in many ways, but the joyous, cocky gleam that radiated off him was unlike either the crown prince or his sister.
He smiled at us, though Erynna made no move to close the gap.
“It’s a delight to be home, Your Grace.” The formality was saccharin, if not a bit hostile, but he bowed as expected. His gaze trailed over to me as he straightened his posture, lips parting in astonishment. The swirling darkness against those stark, crimson eyes drank in every bit of me. This time, it was only his head he bowed. “Forgive me, Lady…”
“Morgana,” Erynna squeaked and grabbed my wrist, pulling me toward the door. “It is time we find our difficult prince, is it not?” Her words were a mere brush against the quiet air as we moved beyond the man. I twisted to look at him once we passed the threshold of the entryway, capturing a narrowed glare that trailed after us.
A low chuckle rumbled out of his chest, and the door shut behind him long after his words echoed into the foyer. “Always a pleasure, Erynna.”