CHAPTER 2 CALLYN
CALLYN
I shouldn’t be here.
The thought has been plaguing me for days, and I can’t quite seem to shove it out of my head, no matter how hard I try.
Lord Alek threatened to reveal my hidden magic if I didn’t leave the Crystal Palace, and anyone with any common sense would’ve left that very night.
It’s no secret that magic doesn’t belong in the palace.
Not now. Not after everything that’s happened.
But I can’t seem to make myself leave.
King Grey has been gone for two weeks, and most people believe he took every scrap of magic with him. I hear the relief among the palace staff. They’re glad he’s gone from Syhl Shallow, thinking the absence of his magic means there won’t be any further threats to the palace.
But they don’t see the darker effects of his leaving, like the sorrow that began to overtake the entire palace the morning after he left.
I’m not sure how many people truly miss him, but the change in Queen Lia Mara is profound.
Morning tea is a somber affair, with the queen absently drizzling honey over her bread, while little Princess Sinna stares forlornly out at the training fields, where she used to watch her father run drills.
The queen used to be occupied with advisers and courtiers all day, but of late she has begun to retire to her room after the midday meal, only to emerge hours later with red- rimmed eyes and a rough voice.
By nightfall, the queen has often found the bottom of her third or fourth glass of wine, and it has not gone unnoticed among the staff.
Little Sinna hasn’t realized it yet, but my sister Nora has.
“Is the queen unwell?” she whispered to me yesterday, after Queen Lia Mara stumbled across the threshold into her bedroom. “She’s not going to turn out like Jax’s father, is she?”
The question was jolting, because I hadn’t realized how much Nora noticed about my best friend’s father— and how much his penchant for whiskey and ale affected his temperament. I bit my lip and stared after the queen. “No, Nora,” I whispered in response. “She’s just heartbroken.”
The queen’s sister, Verin, has no sympathy— or patience— for Lia Mara’s emotion. I’ve heard her snapping more than once. “You have a country to rule and a daughter to raise. You are well rid of that man and his magic. You should’ve let me put a sword through his chest before he left.”
The comment made me shiver. I wondered what Verin would do to me if she knew about the magic in my veins. As soon as I had the thought, I wondered what she’d do to the queen, who secretly shares the same talent.
Queen Lia Mara must have wondered the same thing, because she threw Verin out of her chambers.
But after that, we didn’t see the queen for an entire day. The next morning, she looked like she hadn’t slept at all.
So here I am, at the crack of dawn, two weeks after Alek demanded that I leave the palace— still here.
At least I have a brief reprieve from the somberness of the royal suites, because I’ve been keeping up my training sessions with the army recruits.
I don’t really have any friends among the soldiers, but at least it’s a distraction from the heavy grief hanging over the palace.
Morning drills under the guidance of Lord Jacob might leave me a battered, sweaty mess, but it’s two hours where my thoughts aren’t filled with anxiety over someone else’s pain.
But this morning, Jacob doesn’t appear on the fields to lead drills. General Solt does.
The army recruits had been clustered in small whispering groups, which I’d been casually ignoring.
I learned early on that the barracks have no shortage of gossip and drama.
My sister, Nora, would probably be rapt with attention, but I don’t know any of the players, and in the midst of my own drama, I can’t make myself care.
But then I hear one of them murmur, “leaving the queen alone,” and I snap my head around.
As soon as I do, they stop talking. The silence is sharp and sudden, like a crack of thunder.
I might train with them, but they know who I am— and they know my proximity to the queen. It’s never seemed to matter, but all of a sudden, I’m keenly aware of it. Were they simply gossiping? Or was it something more?
But then General Solt appears on the fields, and the recruits snap to attention.
I’m not in the army, so I don’t, but my mother was once an officer, so I know enough to stand beside them.
I can sense the unease among the others, especially since Jacob isn’t here.
General Solt has never come to the fields this early, and he doesn’t look happy about the fact that he’s here now either.
Without preamble, he says, “Tomorrow, you will join Captain Narrah’s unit for midday drills. For today, run an easy five. Full gear.” His voice is tight and official, leaving no room for disobedience. “Dismissed.”
An easy five. No matter how long I train, I will never get used to the way soldiers refer to a five- mile run with forty pounds of gear as if it’s a light day of work. But without complaint, the recruits fall into formation and move off, their gossip forgotten.
I don’t. General Solt has already begun to turn away, but I go after him. He was so severe that I’m hesitant to stop him, but I don’t know what happened to Lord Jacob, and I’m not sure if I’m meant to continue joining the recruits. The king is the one who initially made the offer— and he’s gone.
I grimace and jog to catch up with the man. “General?”
He turns with a fierce expression, probably ready to face a soldier who’s ignoring a direct order. But then his eyes skip over my form, and I see the moment he recognizes me.
“Callyn, yes?” A hint of fondness flickers in his gaze. “Adelyn’s daughter.”
That takes me by surprise, because I’m not used to anyone remembering my mother. But I nod. “Yes.”
He snaps his fingers and points at me. “I was supposed to find you some soldiers who served with your mother.” He grimaces. “You’ll have to forgive me. With the state of things—”
“Oh!” I say in surprise, remembering the promise he made weeks ago, when he said he’d locate any other soldiers who might have known my mother.
That was before the scraver attacks that caused so much damage to the palace— and left so many people dead.
Before the king was driven away by the people he’d sworn to protect.
“Please don’t apologize,” I say. “Other things were more important.”
“This is important, too. We all lost family. I will find them for you.”
He was so prickly with the recruits that his sudden empathy takes me by surprise. I wonder who he lost. “Thank you, General.”
He gives me a nod and begins to turn away— and I realize he thinks this is why I stopped him.
“Wait!” I say.
He turns again. “I am due in the palace,” he says. He nods past me, where the recruits have already turned to specks in the distance. “And you’ve lost your unit.”
“I’m not a soldier. I work for the queen. I was just . . . I’ve been training with Lord Jacob.”
His eyes light with respect, and he nods. “Your mother would be proud.”
Then he turns away again.
I start after him. “General—”
This time when he turns, his expression is exasperated.
“Sorry,” I say quickly. “I just . . .” I wince. “You said that Captain Narrah would be taking over the recruits. What happened to Lord Jacob?”
A shadow falls over his expression, but only for an instant before the emotion vanishes. “The king has ordered his army to return to Emberfall, along with any remaining officials who are sworn to him.” The general pauses. “They departed at midnight.”
Midnight. When the king left, it was also in the middle of the night— and I didn’t even know until the following day.
I don’t think anyone in the palace knew aside from the queen.
I realized later that it must have been intentional, giving King Grey a long lead time before anyone even realized he was gone. I’m sure Lord Jacob was doing the same.
But it was one thing when the king alone left the palace.
His magic has been the source of so much conflict here, and that was no secret.
I witnessed the battle with the scravers that left so many people injured or dead, and I see the queen’s daily pain over the fact that she placed the desires of her citizens ahead of her love for her husband.
But even with the king gone, there were still Emberish citizens in the palace.
There were still Emberish soldiers barracked among the Syhl Shallow army.
Many people expected them to remain— including me.
A symbol of the ongoing peace between our countries.
If the king has withdrawn his people and his soldiers, that feels much more final.
That feels like a statement of something else.
Maybe that’s what those soldiers were gossiping about. The queen is very much alone now.
I swallow thickly, then nod. “Thank you, General.”
“If you intend to continue with the recruits, I will speak with Captain Narrah,” he says.
“I . . .” My voice trails off. I’m not sure what to say to that. I don’t know what the queen wants me to do. She’s so lost to her own sorrow that she probably doesn’t even know I’m down here.
But during my months in the palace, I’ve discovered the perfect statement for when I don’t have a good answer for something and I don’t want to guess wrong. I give General Solt a definitive nod. “I will speak with the queen to determine what she thinks is best.”
It works with him as well as it’s worked with anyone else, because he gives me a nod in return. This time, when he turns away, I turn in the opposite direction and sprint after the recruits.
By the time I complete my run, I’ve sweated through my tunic and breeches, and I’m envisioning a long soak in the washroom at the back of my chambers.
Back in Briarlock, a warm bath was a luxury requiring buckets hauled from the well down the lane near the forge, and our only soap was made from tallow and ash.
But here in the palace, the warm water seems endless, the buckets carried by well- paid servants, and the soap smells good enough to eat.
Unfortunately, when I reach the royal suites, my sister, Nora, has a tense expression on her face, and the nursery looks like a tornado rolled through it. Little Princess Sinna is nowhere to be found, but her morning tutor likely already claimed her.
“What happened?” I say to Nora.
She sighs, crouching to scoop stone tiles into her hands. They’re scattered all over the floor, among broken pieces of balsam wood and a pot of spilled paint. “Sinna,” she says, as if it explains everything.
It doesn’t. Princess Sinna is better behaved than most four-year- olds, and I’m convinced it’s because she’s had courtly manners drilled into her since birth.
“I’m sorry I left you alone.” I drop to a crouch to help. “Did she have a tantrum?”
“Yes.”
“About what?”
“About nothing.” Nora pauses, and her voice drops. “She misses her parents.”
My mouth forms a line. I shouldn’t be surprised.
Nora sighs again, scooping another handful of tiles into her palm. “She declared that she wants to take her pony and go find her father. She’s mad that the queen won’t let her.”
I snort. “She’s going to ride all the way to Ironrose Castle? Of course the queen won’t let her.”
“Well, she demanded an audience with the queen.” Nora hesitates. “She’s never given me a decree like a princess before. I didn’t know what to do.”
That’s equally startling. Princess Sinna usually looks at Nora like an adopted big sister. My hands go still on the broken toys I’m picking up. “What did you do?”
“I told her that no one is allowed to demand an audience with the queen, but if she wants to see her when she awakens, I would make sure of it.”
I glance at the closed door that leads to the queen’s chambers . . . the chambers she used to share with the king. “Did that get her to calm down?”
Nora nods. “For a little while.” She pauses. “But the queen did not wake. Or if she did, she hasn’t come out.”
I glance at the window. It took me over an hour to run five miles, and now it’s reaching midmorning. The sun is blazing, the room full of light. “Not at all?”
Nora bites her lip and shakes her head.
“So Princess Sinna was unhappy,” I guess.
Nora nods, then gestures emphatically to indicate the room, in complete disarray thanks to a child- size tornado. I sigh.
“Has anyone checked on the queen?” I say.
Nora bites her lip again— then shakes her head.
I look at the door to the queen’s chambers, then move across the room and press my ear to the door.
Nothing. And I’m sure Princess Sinna wasn’t quiet if she caused this kind of mess.
This is why I can’t leave, Lord Alek.
I finally move back to Nora’s side and resume tidying the mess. We work together in silence until Nora whispers, “I know people were afraid of the king and his magic, but this doesn’t feel better, Cally- cal.”
“I know,” I say. I look out the window at the training fields, where scravers attacked the king a couple of weeks ago.
He only had two Emberish soldiers to stand at his side— until the queen and I emerged from the palace and lent our power to their efforts.
Power that we’re not supposed to have. Most people think that we’re safe from the scravers now that magic has been banished from Syhl Shallow.
But every now and then, I feel the sparks and stars in my blood, and I know it’s not gone. Not from me, and not from the queen.
After a moment, I look back at the chamber door, considering the woman trapped by her own sorrow, and the distraught child caught in the middle. I consider my country, how so many people were terrified of magic that they drove the king right out of the palace.
But now the queen is drowning in grief. Allied soldiers from Emberfall have been ordered to leave. The king is gone.
Nora is right. Nothing seems better at all.