Chapter 21
Elorie
“If your nose isn’t buried in a book, you’re writing them.” Isolde walks into my room without knocking.
She’s the only one who comes and goes freely, so it doesn’t surprise me.
I glance up from my paper. “It helps pass the time.”
Isolde places a clean set of leathers on the bed. “The king will be collecting you for training today so you can pass some time with him.”
“The king?”
She nods.
He hasn’t attended a training session yet. And I know the chances he suddenly cares are thin, which means he must have ulterior motives.
The last time King Malachi surprised me with training, I found myself standing in a room of corpses. My palm presses to my stomach, willing it to settle. No wonder Isolde cleaned my leathers. Gods forbid the king have to see his precious chosen in dirty clothes.
Grumbling, I climb off the bed.
“Should I inform him you’re too tired to train today?” Isolde offers as she takes in my frown.
“We both know it won’t do me any good.”
She doesn’t argue because she knows I’m right. What the king wants, the king gets. And while those living in the palace wouldn’t dare speak ill of him, there are enough shared glances for me to know I’m not the only one treading carefully.
I slip out of my sleep dress and hand it to Isolde. Any shyness I had when I first arrived at the palace has vanished in my time here. Between Isolde helping me change and the dresses I’m paraded around in nightly, there is no more shame. I’ve mentally disconnected from my body.
My leathers are snug at my hips and waist. Tighter from being freshly washed. I watch Isolde through the mirror while she ties the straps at the back, noticing something distant in her gaze today.
“Do you ever see your family back in Rohldova?” I ask when her eyes meet mine in the mirror.
Shadows settle at my question. “My family is no longer in Rohldova.”
“They came to the palace with you?”
She tightens another lace, jolting me back and forcing the air from my lungs. “They await me in Sarrow.”
Her expression doesn’t flinch, but grief bleeds through her words.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t realize—”
“There are few with happy stories from this war, Elorie. It’s a blessing any of us are here at all with the creatures spilling from the Well.” Her tone is cold and empty as she finishes the final knot.
“Is it hard being away from your home? From the things that remind you of those you’ve lost?
” Maybe I shouldn’t ask. But learning of Isolde’s loss makes me feel closer to her.
“That’s the hardest part of losing my father.
Being away from everything that would remind me of him. It makes his death not feel real.”
“It feels real for me. I saw too much for it not to.” Isolde pauses, staring at the window. “But I suppose you’re right. If it were up to me, I’d have never left. We’re the same in that way, even if our reasons for coming here are different.”
“Why did you come to the palace?”
“I promised Earik I would.”
“A family member?”
“My mate.” Her gaze falls to the floor as she takes a breath. Her fingers grip the front of her dress.
“You lost your mate?” I shake my head. “I’m sorry. I’ve heard that it’s worse than… well… anything. Humans don’t have mates, so I don’t really understand.”
She nods, looking over at me. “My mate was my greatest love. My other half. He was a part of me. And now that part is gone.”
“How did he die? If you don’t mind me asking.”
Isolde shakes her head. “Earik was on the front lines when the rebels retaliated at the start of the war.”
“You’re talking about when Wilder was sent to the prison?”
While both realms have battled creatures from the Well since the Collision, the start of the Realm War is marked by the battle where Wilder fell.
There were battles before that, the most notable being the siege of Tempest. But the death of Queen Delayna and King Erdem, along with Wilder’s imprisonment, is when the war was declared.
She nods. “The realms were initially at peace after the Collision, helping each other survive. Until a century ago, when magic began to wear thin. The Arch to Sarrow closed first, and that made Lyrichia anxious. We were still trading with the Mortal Realm, but there were disagreements with the use of the realm’s resources. ”
“Vaelier didn’t want to continue to help the humans?” My fingers clench because why would they? Vaelier only cares about themselves.
“I don’t know the details, just that tensions increased until the realm war broke out.”
“Does Lyrichia still have access to the Mortal Realm?”
Isolde shakes her head. “Not as far as I know. There is not enough magic in the Mortal Realm for the Arch to be viable anymore.”
Any hope that I might someday lead my village home fades.
“Ever since the battle between Wilder and the king, we’ve been at war, which is different in Rohldova than it is here.
Here, there’s enough distance to pretend the war doesn’t exist at all.
There are no creatures from the Well tearing apart villages while they sleep.
There are no rebels lurking in the shadows.
That’s why Earik made me promise to come to the palace if anything should happen to him.
He knew my affinity could be useful to the royal family, even if it served no purpose in battle.
When he died, I wanted to fall beside him.
But our village was gone—he was gone—my promise was all I had left. ”
A promise in her heart that can’t be seen by anyone but her. It’s something I understand as I cling to the silent hope that I can find the strength to change the tide in all this.
A knock comes at the door, and Isolde’s back straightens. She forces a tight smile, although all the light has left her eyes.
Her skirt rustles in the silent room as she crosses to open the door, and I glance out the window, even if there is nothing to look at with the glamour masking my ability to see through.
“Your Majesty.” Isolde bows deeply and doesn’t rise.
I turn to see King Malachi in the hallway, flanked by guards at either side. Today, he’s adorned in black and gold, which makes the sparkling blue orb around his neck stand out even more.
He doesn’t smile at me, simply waits for me to join him in the hallway. Only once I do does Isolde stand to close the door.
“I prefer you in a dress.” He scans my outfit, taking my hand and placing it on his arm as he starts to walk.
I don’t know why his comment bothers me, but it doesn’t matter to me what he prefers, especially when I’m training. Does he actually expect me to fight in a sheer dress when it comes time to help him save his kingdom?
“I heard you stayed at the dinner gathering late last night.” The king brushes the back of my hand, and my skin prickles.
Forcing a smile, I glance up at him. “I wasn’t tired when you left.”
His gaze darkens, telling me maybe I should have held my tongue. He didn’t have his guards drag me away last night when he left, but maybe he expected me to do that on my own. Hazel and Selia never stay when he isn’t in attendance. Does he expect that of me as well?
“It’s interesting company you keep, Elorie. Spending time with the guards who are beneath you. Holding free conversation with your maid.”
“They’re my friends.” My chest tightens as he continues to pull me down the hallway.
“Are you also friends with the Crown that wishes to see us destroyed?”
We pause at the doorway to the courtyard. When it swings open, I see Wilder already standing near Greer, waiting. He’s shirtless today, which makes my throat tight. Why can’t he wear more clothes and not be so gods damn distracting?
Sweat creates a sheen on his solid chest like he’s already been training. Runes cover his back and arms, trailing slightly up his neck and peeking over the back of his hands. They decorate his chest, but his abdominals are bare, sculpted muscle.
It’s too much to look at, so I glance away.
“No. King Riven is not my friend.” I swallow hard, looking up at King Malachi and trying to school my expression. “He thinks he’ll sway my decision, but he won’t.”
The king glances across the courtyard to Wilder. “That’s good to hear. Although I warn you to watch yourself. Wilder’s mate might not appreciate you fawning over him any more than I do, and she’s far less forgiving.”
“His mate?” My heart hammers in my chest.
“Aurora.”
It’s a beautiful name for someone who is probably stunning herself.
My stomach spins, and I suddenly feel ill.
The way Isolde spoke of mates makes me realize just how terrible Wilder is.
That he is so brazenly doing as he wishes with the females in this court instead of returning to his mate back home.
Then there’s how he speaks to me sometimes. How close he stands. How his magic brushes over me, and it feels like something more. He’s taken me for a fool.
Wilder is a lying, manipulative bastard.
I narrow my eyes on Wilder, who is spinning a dagger, watching me stand at the king’s side.
“We will make a grand pair, Elorie,” the king says, pulling my attention as he laces a hand up through the hair at the side of my head. “I’ve been distant, and that is my fault. But I will try to show you more attention.”
Before I can think about what he’s doing, he leans down and presses his lips to mine.
Claiming me in a kiss that makes my stomach turn over.
There’s no sweetness to it. Only possession.
And not the kind that makes my heart light, but the kind that proves a point to the male standing across the ring.
King Malachi pulls away as a chill breaks out across my skin. His grin is a threat as he taps my chin and walks away. The sky isn’t blue today. It’s gray like on Alyssium.
And even with the warm breeze, all I am is cold.