Chapter 37
Elorie
The king must be content with what he saw in the mirror because his grin is wider and his eyes are brighter than they were before stepping through it.
When we walked out the other side of the pool, he pulled me close and kissed my temple before leaving.
I still feel the pressure of his lips on my skin at midday as we gather to leave for Solace.
King Malachi holds Selia at his side, wearing his crown and smiling like the gods are granting his wishes. Whatever he saw in the mirror left him in an entirely different mood than me. I glance at Wilder, noticing he might be more on the same page as I am.
Wilder barely glanced at me before walking out of the temple, and that was for the best. If I’d have held his gaze, I’d have been forced to remember his magic holding me. The comfort of being in his arms. The static of our near kiss.
The death that followed.
I knew walking in that my choice was made if I wanted to save Lyrichia. But to see it in such clear terms, to feel the pain of the realm dying, has reality settling in. Especially when Wilder’s gaze meets mine, and I’m torn for an entirely different reason.
Maybe it’s the bind of the Rite that draws me to Wilder. But if that were the case, wouldn’t I feel the same connection to the king? Glancing at King Malachi, who is readying the party for our trip, I shiver. My tie to him is empty and cold in comparison.
Cyan leans closer to the king, whispering something in his ear that makes his smile falter. King Malachi has been boasting about our trip to Solace all morning, so I can’t imagine what could sour his mood that quickly. He shakes Selia off his arm and storms over to Greer.
“I wonder what that was about.” My eyebrows pinch.
Callum frowns. “Nothing good.”
I can’t tell if he heard what they were whispering about or if he’s reading their body language like I am.
“Why are we going to Solace exactly?” I ask Callum.
Tempest was going to be our only stop, but King Malachi changed his mind after the blessing.
Callum opens his mouth to answer, but the king storms over, cutting him off. “We’re not going to Solace anymore. I’ve been called to the palace for business. Wilhelm, I want you and Maliren to go ahead on my behalf and check the new weaponry Lord Lochlan acquired.”
The thought of returning to the palace without Callum or Greer is unsettling.
“Can’t I go with them?” I ask quickly. “The Rite isn’t for another week.”
“Why do you care about weaponry?” King Malachi lifts an eyebrow in suspicion.
“I don’t.” My fingers fidget with a buckle on my leather pants as I come up with something—anything—to pacify him before he drags me back to the palace alone. “But this will be my kingdom to save soon, yes? I’ve felt such a connection here in Tempest. I thought visiting Solace might help as well.”
“You think it will help with your magic?” He glances at where I press my palm over my stomach, and I nod. “Very well.”
My shoulders relax as King Malachi agrees, but when his gaze falls on Cyan, they stiffen again.
“Cyan,” he calls Callum’s father over. “I’m leaving you and the Guard in charge of Elorie in my absence. She’ll be traveling to Solace with the rest of the group.”
“Are you sure that’s a good idea, Your Majesty?”
King Malachi cuts a hard glare in Cyan’s direction, who says no more in way of argument. “If anything happens to her—”
“It won’t.” Wilder strides up, a cocky grin painting a mask of arrogance on his face. “Even if your Guard fails, I’m pretty sure I can handle one human girl.”
“You’re going to Solace?” My throat dries.
At the very least, I assumed he’d return with the king instead of tagging along on a mission to inspect weaponry for his enemy’s war against his realm. Especially when I suspect they won’t let him anywhere near those meetings. But clearly, that’s not the case.
He shrugs. “Lochlan and I are old friends. It’ll be good to say hello.”
“I’m guessing you were friends before you decided to destroy his home and his people?”
“Long before.” Dark amusement plays in Wilder’s eyes.
It stirs something in my chest, so I look away.
King Malachi thinks for a moment, considering Wilder’s offer. They might be enemies, but we’re all tied until the Rite binds me to one of them. Which I assume is the only reason he trusts me with an enemy king.
“Very well.” King Malachi takes a step toward me, tipping my chin up. “If seeing our kingdom will help you with your magic, so be it.”
He leans in for a kiss, but I turn so he catches my cheek, hoping the shift appears intentional.
Over his shoulder, Selia watches us. Her eyes show little emotion, but storm clouds hang heavy overhead.
King Malachi takes my avoidance with grace, even as his fingers tighten on my chin, pinching me ever so slightly as he stares into my eyes. The hard edge in his blue gaze is a warning. A silent threat before he takes a step back.
A priestess mumbles, pressing her palm to the breeze as if it were a glass wall and not thin air. Her fingers glow until the ground quakes and a Gateway forms.
The king offers a final glance before Selia tugs his arm, and they disappear back to the Ley Court with half the Guard. I catch the scent of honeysuckle before it closes. Sweet, when I know the Ley Court is anything but.
Once the Gateway shuts, the priestess steps away, leaving us.
“Isn’t she going to open the Gate to Solace?” My eyebrows pinch.
“Gateways won’t get us into Solace. Lochlan and his paranoia.” Callum brushes his dark hair off his forehead.
Wilder chuckles, and both Callum and I look over at him. “I’m guessing he finally did it.”
“Did what?” I ask.
“Lord Lochlan cast a spell around Solace so that there’s only one way in and out—by foot. Or horseback, in our case,” Callum answers. “It’s a precaution so the rebels can’t easily reach the city.”
“Yeah, that’s it.” Wilder’s eyes are wicked with amusement.
Sarcasm drips from his tone, but he doesn’t elaborate on what he’s talking about.
When I look up at Callum, he shrugs. I can’t imagine what else Lochlan would be protecting, but clearly, we have a journey ahead of us.
Greer gives a final order to the Guard before cutting in our direction. “We’ll take a Gateway to the Solace border. Reah has horses waiting for us there.”
“Where have you been all morning? I thought we might be leaving without you.”
“Family business.” Her smile tightens, and that’s all she offers as explanation.
Cyan leads us to the edge of the cliffs, finally opening a Gateway to the northern border of Tempest. Unlike on the mountain, there’s a heavy breeze here. The cold is frigid, and the snow is icy like it is on Alyssium.
Horses await us when we reach the end of a trail. They’re taller than I imagined. The stories I’ve read do little to capture their true magnificence. Their manes shine against the sun breaking through the clouds, and the strength of their every movement is breathtaking.
“Do you know how to ride?” Wilder stops at my side, brushing his palm down the horse’s mane. It’s a surprisingly gentle gesture for a male who is often anything but.
I shake my head. “We didn’t have horses on Alyssium. Can I?”
My hand hovers at the horse’s shoulder, and Wilder nods. Its gray coat is smooth to the touch, shining like the winter around us.
“You can ride with me, Elorie.” Callum comes up behind me.
Wilder’s gaze moves over my shoulder. “I’ve got her, Wilhelm. After all, she’s my responsibility.”
There’s nothing sweet or protective in Wilder’s tone. It’s pure irritation. He’s probably annoyed he’ll be babysitting instead of enjoying the ride.
I look up over my shoulder at Callum, who is waiting for me to argue, but I don’t. I can survive sharing a horse with Wilder. Even if the thought of it makes my heart race.
Callum’s jaw clenches as his gaze darts between me and Wilder. “Only the beginning of our journey is on horseback. Once we’re deeper into the territory, we can take a Gateway to the manor.”
He turns to the next horse down the line, while Greer watches from where she’s standing near Cyan. Both avoid Wilder. I don’t blame her when she probably sees the rebels who killed her family when she looks at him.
Except that wasn’t him.
It wasn’t his order.
Or I’m making excuses for him.
Wilder works with the guards to saddle the horses. Once they’re ready, he unties the reins and steadies the horse. I’m thankful I’m in leathers and not a dress with how I’ll be seated.
“Ready, Starfire?” He holds out a hand to help me climb up.
I hesitate for only a moment before placing my palm in his.
Wedging my foot in the stirrup, I jump up but don’t make it.
On my second try, Wilder’s magic weaves around me and pulls me onto the horse.
I’m higher up than it seemed from the ground, but then Wilder climbs on behind me, and it settles my nerves.
His arms wrap around me to grip the horn with one hand, holding the reins with the other. His hard chest warms my back, and while I’ve seen him shirtless during training, the feel of his strong muscles surrounding me—of his firm thighs caging mine—has my pulse thrumming.
The horse takes a step, and I tense, grabbing Wilder’s legs without thinking. His thighs are solid muscle. He doesn’t so much as flinch as he tugs the reins and steadies the horse’s pace.
Wilder’s hand slips from the horn to my thigh. “I’ve got you.”
That’s what I’m worried about.
I try not to focus on his thumb grazing my leg. Or how he smells like a forest after heavy rain. I try not to feel the thunder of his heart beating in tune with mine as we start down the path into Solace.
I try to think about anything but him.
“You’re comfortable on a horse,” I point out.
While I’m all tension, Wilder is at ease.
“I’ve ridden many into battle.”
“You fought on the front lines? Isn’t that too lowly for a king?”
“I wasn’t a king at the time.” He shrugs. “And even so, a king who won’t fight beside his people doesn’t deserve to be their king.”
Something about his words sounds like a slight to King Malachi, but with so many ears listening, I don’t dare ask if that’s what he’s saying. Either way, it’s a surprisingly honorable sentiment.
“Queen Delayna insisted her court be trained like any soldier,” Wilder continues.
“You talk about your mother like she was a figurehead instead of your family.”
“She was the queen, and she was ruthless. But she was respected for it. She protected her people.”
“And you respected her?”
“She died for her kingdom.”
“That’s not an answer.”
Wilder hums, not responding.
The snowy, carpeted forest thins as we reach the border of Solace. What was once a rocky mountainous path starts to level. The snow stays behind us as the ground shifts to sand dunes and desert. Icy winter is replaced with a bright sky and the burning heat of the sun.
“How is that possible?” I look over my shoulder at the cover of Tempest fading in the distance. “The weather changed so fast.”
“It’s the territory responding to the lord’s magic. Just like Lyrichia as a whole is tied to Malachi, each territory tends to take on the traits of the lord or lady who oversees it.”
“What type of magic does Lochlan wield?”
“He’s an air wielder.”
That explains the sky-high tornadoes of sand tearing through the desert on the horizon.
“It’s more complicated than that,” Wilder answers in my mind when I didn’t realize I’d opened the thread to him. “But yes, at a basic level, the land responds to his magic with wind. Lochlan has ruled over this territory for a long time, and so it takes on the traits of him in other ways as well.”
Glancing at the harsh desert, I wonder who I’m riding toward if that is true.
“Is it the same in Vaelier?” I ask Wilder.
“Yes.”
“What’s your home like?”
Wilder is quiet for a moment; his thumb pauses where it was tapping my leg. Home didn’t mean as much to me until I understood what it meant to be away from it, and after a century in a cell, I wonder if Wilder feels the same.
“Home is many things,” Wilder finally answers. “Like in Lyrichia, no two territories are the same in Vaelier. There are forests and lakes. Beaches and deserts. Each unique from the others, and nothing like Lyrichia.”
“The royal court is in Quietus, correct?”
Quietus is the territory at the southern tip of Vaelier, made up of forests and snowy mountains.
It’s said the trees whisper and the snow drifts with memories of the past. Stories of Quietus are fascinating and terrifying.
From the creatures that haunt the land to the cliffs that overlook the Calliasyne Sea.
It’s said the stars hang so low at Starlight Reach that the night glows.
“All true,” Wilder confirms my thoughts. “And yes, Quietus is where the royal family resides—where I’ll go when I return.”
When he returns.
Because he will eventually. I’ll choose the king, and Wilder will leave. It’s what I want. So why does that realization carve out an empty pit in my stomach?
I shake that thought.
“What’s your favorite place in Vaelier?” I ask, glancing over my shoulder, bringing us face-to-face. His mouth hovers too close to mine. I can’t breathe as his gaze falls to my glowing freckles.
“After the prison? Anywhere I can see the stars.”