Chapter 27
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
BEFORE
Helaina loved her siblings’ stories of the neighboring countries.
They were so much better than the written accounts in her books.
It was a favorite pastime to hear the tales of their journeys.
Krysta talked about Creston the most, its white sandy shores and fishing towns.
Their royal family were descendants of Kydon.
His bloodline had always ruled the territory that bordered the Sea God’s ocean.
Krysta’s betrothal to their prince was publicly announced. Ildhor and Krysta had been matched for some time now, and every time Krysta returned from Creston, she made the kingdom sound like a dream.
“All those white sails on the water, Laina. I can’t take my eyes off the shores when I’m there.
It’s like staring at a sky full of clouds,” her sister had marveled and let out a whimsical sigh.
“I wish they would have let you come this time . . . I’m sorry.
I shouldn’t say these things. I know how you feel about—”
Helaina held up a hand, telling her to stop. “It makes me happy to hear you speak of your new home like that. It sounds like you will be very happy there.”
Helaina had stopped fighting, stopped pushing for answers. It caused a pang of hurt in her chest to know Krysta would soon be moving. Helaina knew she would never leave her fully. Krysta would visit, and she would always have Adriel. She had her horses, her work with the healers, and Dolion.
“Maybe when you’re married, Father will take me to visit . . .” It was a joke to say it, but it was a nice thought to voice aloud. To think of the salty air filling her nose, the grainy sand between her toes.
Krysta’s eyes went grim. Helaina hated that look.
“Princess Krysta of Creston.” Helaina smiled, trying to mimic how she would be announced at a lavish party. “Your new title rolls off the tongue so well.”
Krysta hummed in agreement. She liked the sound of it too. And she liked Prince Ildhor. Helaina felt she already knew the man with how often her sister brought him into conversation.
“I’ll always be able to come back and visit .
. . but gods, the wind in your hair, the ocean.
It’s everything I’ve ever wanted, and this .
. .” She held up a gleaming curved blade that was almost as long as her arm.
It had an alabaster hilt decorated in jewels, creating the perfect end to the piece.
“Ildhor gave it to me. He says women in Creston carry one as a sign of marriage, of the right to protect their house.”
Helaina was in awe of its beauty and what it symbolized. The women were seen as courageous protectors in Creston. This arrangement was so perfect for Krysta. She fit the part so well.
Helaina held it in her hands, feeling the weight.
“Did he teach you to use it?”
Krysta giggled, giving a knowing smile toward her sister. “Yes . . . he taught me some other things too.”
Helaina’s mouth gaped as she nearly shoved her off the bed.
“Tell me everything.”
Krysta recounted her most recent trip, which would be the last before the wedding.
A Crestonian custom, for the bride to stay one last time in her future husband’s lands to familiarize herself wholly with the culture.
She had come back entirely besotted. Hearing her talk made it sound like Krysta had never wanted to come back.
Helaina enjoyed hearing the complete elation in her sister’s words.
This was what Krysta had always wanted—a husband, children, a family to call her own.
Helaina never saw herself as a nurturing mother, though she did love the idea of chasing little nieces and nephews around.
She wouldn’t get to do that if she was here and Krysta was there.
“Could we have the wedding here?” Helaina asked nervously.
“Absolutely!” Krysta exclaimed. “I can’t imagine my wedding day without my sister by my side. We have already discussed it. Ildhor suggested a small ceremony in the courtyard, just his family and ours.”
Helaina squealed with excitement and clapped her hands like a schoolgirl. Krysta must have caught their father on a particularly good day for him to agree to have an actual party.
Even though the wedding was still three seasons away, they stayed up late talking about the bouquets, the meal, the dresses.
The women in their family would wear maroon with silver jewels, as was tradition.
Krysta was going to look sensational in those colors.
They’d sing until their voices were hoarse, and dance until their feet ached.
Perhaps Dolion could even attend the festivities somehow. Gods, to dance with him? She could die happy right then and there.
“Do you think Father might let me have a guest?”
Krysta shot up at that. Her demeanor changed from elation to irritation.
“Who?”
Helaina didn’t want to answer.
“Laina . . . who?”
“It’s just . . . Dolion and I . . .”
“What about Dolion?” Krysta’s whole mood shifted. “You barely know him. No. No, I won’t allow it. It’s my wedding day, I won’t have him there.”
Helaina knew him perfectly well, but she couldn’t tell her sister that. The escape tunnels were her only access to freedom. If Krysta knew, she’d end it. Helaina had always supported Krysta in her choices. Why was Dolion such a bother to her?
“He’s a good man, Krysta, he’s been here all this time and he’s done nothing wrong. Do you even have a good reason to hate him the way you do?”
Krysta narrowed her eyes at her younger sister. “Have you been sneaking around to see him? Tell me the truth.”
“No! I mean, I did for a while . . . I stopped, though, I swear.”
“Oh, you’re such a liar! When are you going to get it through your head, there is something off about him! I’m telling—”
“You never even gave him a chance!”
“I don’t want to give him a chance! Gods, you’re so naive. He’s never seemed right, and if you just opened your eyes for one damned second, you’d see that!”
Helaina raged. “Why? Because he’s lowborn? Are you the only one who gets to live your dreams?” She groaned in frustration, trying to turn away from her sister.
“Just how far has this gone, Laina? Tell me.”
Helaina scrunched her eyes hard and tried to calm the fury bounding within her. It wasn’t fair. None of this was fair or normal.
“No.”
“Tell me!”
“no!”
The windows in their room broke open. They had been locked, but a forceful flurry burst the latches apart.
They both screamed.
The outside breeze swept into their room, blowing papers into disarray. Helaina didn’t know how to describe what she saw. It was not the wind. It was an opaque fog coasting through the space. And then it was gone.
Helaina’s breathing grew ragged as an odd burning in her chest settled. She turned to face Krysta.
Her sister’s skin had gone ashen. A look of pure dread was plastered on her face. She reached a trembling hand to Helaina’s wrist, clasping around the tempest tears, almost digging the pointed ends into her skin.
“Have you . . . taken this off . . . ever?” she stammered.
“What are you talking about?” Helaina glanced down at the jewels. “No? Why?”
“We need to find Adriel. Now.”
Krysta yanked her sister’s arm and made for the door.