12. Zai
Zai
Light stabbed through my eyelids. I cracked them open.
A mistake.
Blinding rays sliced into my skull, and I lifted a hand to shield my eyes.
Another mistake.
Pain lanced through my chest, and a groan tore from my throat.
Instinctively, I reached for my bolster, smothering the agony with that familiar dulling sensation.
Vague fragments of memory drifted through my head—how I’d staggered to the infirmary and collapsed in the royal physician’s arms. During fleeting glimpses of consciousness, her wrinkled face had hovered above me, her efficient hands tending my wounds.
Never fussing. Never pitying. Just fixing what could be fixed, like she always did.
But clearer than those fever-addled flashes was the memory of what came before.
Val’s burning hatred. Iz’s indifference. Father’s cold pronouncement.
Exile.
The word crushed the air from my lungs. Shame and regret coiled in my gut.
“Look who’s finally awake.” The physician’s dry voice cut through my spiraling thoughts.
“How long—” I started, but my mouth was dry as sandstone, and the words came out as a hoarse whisper.
She lifted a cup of water to my lips. “Three days.” Her tone was stern, but her gnarled fingers were surprisingly gentle as she helped me drink.
With a disapproving hum, she prodded my injuries. “I’ve bandaged the wound on your upper arm, but I’m afraid I can’t do anything for your broken ribs. Only time can heal those.”
She gestured to a skinny messenger boy lurking near the door. “The prince is awake. Go inform the King.”
As the boy scurried off, my gaze drifted to the ceiling.
Three days. How gracious of Father to let me heal before tossing me from the only home I’d known for twenty-four years.
I’d never been outside the palace without guards escorting me, but now I had to venture out alone and leave everything behind.
The familiar corridors I’d walked a thousand times.
The view of the city sprawling beneath my window.
The menagerie where I’d spent endless candlemarks with the creatures, whispering secrets when no one else would listen.
Not only that, I also had to choose between stepping into a territory where moonfolk were bound to recognize me as the sun prince and kill me on sight, or a land where monsters would rip me apart just as eagerly. Either way, I’d likely end up dead.
Maybe I should rejoice. I’d never been happy here anyway. Not after Mother died. And almost being beaten to death by my brother certainly wouldn’t improve matters. Maybe being forced to leave was a blessing in disguise.
With a groan, I sat up. I might as well get it over with.
Despite the bolster thrumming beneath my skin, my muscles fought every shift. I glanced down at my bare chest and the undergarments barely covering my hips. The physician or her nurses must’ve stripped off my trousers while I was unconscious.
Would they at least let me dress, or were they planning on tossing me out half-naked into the crisp spring air? The thought of stumbling through monster-infested wilderness in only my undergarments nearly drew a laugh from my throat.
The messenger boy returned, breathless, carrying a bundle of fabric and leather. He placed it on the chair beside my bed. “King Azeron wants you to wear this.”
A sigh of relief escaped me. My fighting gear.
I slipped into my trousers and tunic and buckled on my belt with my metal-filled cravik horn still attached. After strapping on the leather vest, I fastened the bracers to my forearms. Each piece settled into place with mechanical precision, familiar and grounding.
The boy shifted his weight from foot to foot, fingers twisting together.
I pulled on my boots. “You have something else to say?”
He nodded eagerly. “The King wants me to take you to the roof. He’s waiting there with an airship ready for departure.”
My eyebrows shot up. “Right now?”
He nodded.
My shoulders sagged. So much for a final walk through the palace. No last words to loyal servants and guards. No last trip to the menagerie to say goodbye to Daro and the animals. Not even a moment alone in my room to pack a few things.
Though really, what would I pack? Bedsheets embroidered with the Sun Kingdom’s crest? Fancy robes meant for balls and state dinners? Where I was going, all my belongings were as useful as shattered shale.
The only thing I needed was already wrapped around my wrist. The leather bracelet with a braided pattern, worn smooth from years of mindless fidgeting. A gift from Mother.
The door creaked open, and Iz stepped inside, shoulders straight, chin high—the perfect picture of royal composure.
Her hand settled on the boy’s shoulder. “You can head for your next task. I’ll take my brother to the roof.”
A knot tightened in my chest. Had she come to twist the knife one last time? Berate me for how I’d shamed our family during the ball?
Her deep red gown whispered against the floor as she led me through the corridor toward the stairs.
Swallowing my unease, I cleared my throat. “You must be happy.”
Iz glanced back, one eyebrow arched. “About what?”
“Seeing me go.” The words scraped out in a rough growl. “Finally getting rid of me.”
She whirled to face me. Her dark eyes searched mine, something raw flickering in her expression. “Why would you say that?”
I huffed a bitter laugh. “Because I always ruin everything and everyone.”
She tilted her head, studying me. “You never ruined me.”
The certainty in her voice knocked the air from my lungs.
I opened my mouth but could only stare at her sculpted features—the face everyone called serene. But fierce determination burned in her gaze.
“Come on.” She grabbed my arm and pulled me upstairs.
The stone steps circled through the palace’s core. Torchlight flickered across the walls, casting dancing shadows. On the landing between two floors, she stopped and turned to me.
“Here, take this.” She produced a leather pouch from inside her wide sleeve. The unmistakable rattle of coins came from within.
“What—Why—” I shook my head.
She hooked the strap around my belt. “A few nuggets and gems for your travel. You’ll need it. Trust me.”
Frowning, I brushed the smooth leather. I’d never dealt with actual money in my life, and to my knowledge, neither had Iz. Our Treasurer handled all royal transactions.
“How did you get this?”
“Don’t worry about that. Just keep an eye on it at all times.” She grabbed me again, pulling me up the stairs. “You won’t believe how many nimble-fingered thieves are skulking around out there.”
Confusion rippled through me. “How do you know that?”
The narrow stairwell opened onto the top landing. A massive wooden door loomed ahead, the only thing between us and the airship platform beyond.
Iz stopped in front of it. “Never mind how. Just promise me you’ll keep it safe. Promise me you’ll…” Her voice cracked. “Promise you’ll stay safe.”
My lips parted, but no words came out.
Her eyes glistened. “Zai! Promise!”
“I promise!” I blurted.
She nodded, swallowing hard. “Good.”
Turning, she reached for the handle, but I grabbed her arm.
“Iz, I—” Words tangled in my throat, caught between confusion and something unfamiliar. Gratitude, maybe. Or regret for all the years I’d let slip past without really knowing her.
“You take care of yourself, too,” I managed.
Her lips curved into a sad smile. “I’ve spent my entire life navigating court politics. I know exactly how to handle things around here.” Her expression softened. “It’s you I’m worried about.”
“You’re worried about me?”
“Of course I am, dummy.” She gave my arm a playful shove. “You’re my brother.”
The simple words cracked something inside me, and I pulled her into a hug. She stiffened for a heartbeat, then her arms wrapped around me, squeezing tight against my sore ribs. I bolstered against the pain, but a different kind of ache still lingered inside.
When we broke apart, she offered one encouraging nod before yanking the door open and gesturing for me to go ahead.
Wind whipped across the open space, tugging at my clothes and hair. At the far end, an airship hovered beside the platform. The wooden hull gleamed in the morning light, and the balloon swayed against tethers.
Father stood beside the boarding plank, waiting in that narrow space between life as I knew it and the dangerous unknown.
Iz’s hand squeezed my shoulder before she shut the door, disappearing from my life for good.
Father’s gaze trailed me as I crossed the platform, hands clasped behind his back. His tied-back hair barely stirred despite the wind.
The mountain towered beside us, its peak disappearing into low clouds. The capital sprawled on our other side, a maze of stone streets and buildings clinging to the mountain base.
I stopped in front of him, searching for words. But what was there to say? Thanks for years of harsh words and bitterness. For letting Val sharpen his cruelty on me. For finally getting rid of me and sparing yourself the agony of my presence.
“This ship will take you to Gravendale Border Camp.” Father’s voice cut through the rushing air. “From there, you can choose between crossing into Blightlands or the Moon Queendom.”
I swallowed against the sudden dryness in my throat as the finality of it all sank in.
“Why didn’t you let Val kill me?” The question escaped my lips before I could stop it. “I didn’t deserve mercy.”
Father’s dark eyes pinned me in place, expression hardening to stone. “You’re saying I made the wrong decision?”
“No—” My jaw clenched. “Yes. Maybe. Mother is dead because of me, and—”
“Your mother is dead because she was weak.”
I flinched as his cold words struck me, the same ones he’d thrown at me countless times. For once, I refused to accept them in bitter silence.
“She wasn’t weak! She’s dead because I killed her!”
His gaze bored into mine, but gentleness threaded through his words. “No, son. She’s dead because she was too soft. She cared too much. That’s what killed her.”
My body shook with restrained anger, but his tender tone kept me from exploding. “You mean because she was trying to help me master my powers? Is that what made her too soft?”
Cold calculation flickered across his features. “Tell me, son, was it worth your act of kindness at the ball—warning Therovan of Val’s plans?”
Jaw clenched, I stared past his shoulder at the distant mountains.
He turned toward the horizon. “That act of kindness led to your exile, just like your mother’s kindness led to her death. I’ve been trying to help you outgrow your weakness, but I realized at the ball that my efforts haven’t been enough.”
My fists opened and closed at my sides as his contradictory words collided in my chest. Was he reminding me I was a lost cause? Or that he’d been trying to help me in his own twisted way—because he actually cared? My simmering fury mingled with a tiny spark of hope.
Something shifted in Father’s expression, the stone mask cracking, revealing something soft beneath. “It’s not too late for you, son. You still have a chance to prove your strength and regain your honor.”
I frowned. “Prove my strength? How?”
“The Dual Wielder.” Father’s jaw tightened. “Bring him to me, and I’ll revoke your exile.”
My pulse kicked against my ribs. “You will?”
His voice dropped. “Yes, but I need him alive so my scholars can study him, to understand what makes him… different.”
Hope flared in my chest, desperate and painful. “But how am I supposed to find him?”
“You’ll have to be resourceful. Seize every advantage within reach. Never flinch away from hard decisions.”
Father never spoke like this, but his tone, these words—they were his way of saying he cared without forming the actual words.
He believed in me.
I straightened, resolve threading through my spine. “I won’t fail you.”
“Remember, son…” His hand clasped my shoulder. “Kindness only leads to suffering. You’ll need ruthlessness to survive. Find allies, but trust no one.”
The words settled into my bones. All these years I’d resented his coldness, chafed against his lessons. But I finally understood what he’d been trying to teach me. Kindness had gotten Mother killed. Kindness had gotten me beaten half to death. Kindness had cost me everything.
I needed to burn away my hesitations, my doubts, my softness. All the parts of me that came from her. I needed ruthlessness to survive.
With a short nod, Father strode toward the stairs, leaving me alone with the wind whipping in my hair.
The crew barely glanced my way as I crossed the boarding plank and settled onto a bench at the rear. One of them cast off the tethers. Two others wielded heat into the balloon, and the ship lurched upward.
I glanced over the railing at the shrinking palace below. Somewhere down there, Iz watched from her window—I was certain of it. The weight of the pouch pressed against my hip, unfamiliar yet grounding. I’d keep a close eye on it, just as she’d said.
Father had likely already moved on to whatever kingly matters demanded his attention, but his words lingered in my mind.
Find allies, but trust no one.
Whatever path lay ahead, I’d traverse it with ruthlessness. I’d track down this Dual Wielder and bring him back. I’d prove I wasn’t the failure everyone believed me to be.
I would restore my honor and finally earn Father’s approval.