Chapter 40
Rylee
Baydel sits in his cushioned chair atop the dais in the gathering room. I haven’t even been able to see to my needs or take a breath privately in my rooms in the palace. The moment we docked in the royal port, Dalfon and I were ushered to the palace by a dozen enforcers.
“This is . . .” Baydel rolls the parchment up and passes it to Lucas, who sits on his left. He read the contract at least three times before addressing me.
“Impressive,” Lucas says after a quick glance. He hands it to Brooks.
I tilt my head, swallowing hard. The journey was a long one.
I did my best to distract myself by practicing the meditations Pierce taught me, controlling the powers, checking in on my mating bonds, and asking Dalfon more questions than he could probably stand.
He was always gracious with me, though, which I appreciate.
All the space in between that, I lost myself in my sister’s art journal.
Gleaning nothing beyond my love of her talent and the grief I feel missing the sister I knew.
Brooks eyes me from where he sits. The calculating look reminds me of Pierce so much it hurts.
A month. That’s all we’ll be separated. And we’re already down one week, thanks to the travel time.
It feels like an eternity. Especially as I stand here before the kings, alone.
Mirren and Layce and Ivy are in the back of the room, waiting for me, and Dalfon is a few feet away from them, conversing with Baydel’s Occuli.
The rest of the Royal Authority Council is scattered about the room, too, sipping hot tea out of fine porcelain cups and nibbling on more snacks than are needed for such a small group.
But despite that, I’m alone.
Mirren, Layce, and Ivy aren’t princesses of Lumathyst. The expectations the kings and the RAC are enforcing are placed on my shoulders and mine only.
I feel like an exhibit. A piece of curious entertainment for the RAC to gawk at and study. Some of the previous potentials who I’ve gotten to know since their announcement, like Charlotte, Beatrice, and Emma, don’t look at me so drastically, but they do look, all the same.
“Did the Gemeni require a specific task from my son?” Brooks asks, finally passing the parchment to Jullian.
I shake my head, my heart feeling shredded. The bonds inside me are stretched, as if trying to reach across the vast distance that separates me from the Legends. “Only for him to stay,” I answer.
Baydel studies me a bit harder, a small, almost imperceptible smile on his lips. After a second, it vanishes as he looks down the row to Brooks. “A hardship,” he says. “But one worth the risk, in order to gain that.” He points to the scroll in Jullian’s hands.
“And if my son doesn’t return in the time frame they set, Baydel?” Brooks asks, eyeing his fellow king with a stern look that has me taking a step away from the dais.
“If they do not allow him passage home, it would be an open declaration of war and a clear break in the agreement they signed.” Baydel shrugs. “I highly doubt Silvac wants to end the centuries of peace we’ve had between us.”
I keep my lips shut. From the little I saw of Silvac, everyone is itching for change.
“Thank you for bringing this to us, Rylee,” Jullian says, his voice the most familiar and soft toward me. “I know it must’ve been hard to leave Pierce behind.”
I blow out a breath and nod.
“Queen behavior,” he continues, addressing the Royal Authority Council. “To endure such a hardship for the good of our people.”
Baydel looks at Jullian as if he said I like to set things on fire for fun.
But I flash a grateful look up to Jullian for the shout-out.
Margreet looks to Baydel like she’s incapable of forming a thought of her own without direction from him. I do my best not to roll my eyes.
“Has there been any word from the others?” I finally ask when I can no longer take it.
“Kal is faring well,” Jullian answers. “Expects to be home soon.”
Relief blazes through me at that.
“Axl too,” Lucas adds.
Tears prick the backs of my eyes. I know we anticipated Cardrayton and Vleyica to be easier to reconfirm terms with, but it’s great to hear at least two of them will be returning soon.
“And Jax?” I ask when Baydel hasn’t readily offered a response.
“I received word he made it to Keleshore.”
He doesn’t continue, and it makes all that hope and relief turn to ash.
“Nothing on how he’s doing?” I push.
Baydel tilts his head. “Do you doubt my son’s ability to garner an ally?”
“I don’t doubt Jax in any way,” I say.
“Then you have nothing to worry over,” he says.
“You understand the requirements while you’re home.
Meet with the people, hear them, and do your best to continue work on the enhancement issue.
It took one of our own servants just this morning.
” He says it so emotionlessly, I almost miss it.
“It’s imperative you keep up the work while the princes are away. ”
I blink a few times, chest tightening. “Can I see the body?”
“Did you suddenly become an Occuli healer in your time in Silvac?” Baydel snaps. “What need would you have—”
“I want to see it,” I demand, so damn tired. “To see if I can find anything to help me stop this madness.”
Baydel snorts a laugh. “Because you’ve been so successful in the past, little bug?” He shakes his head.
“I will take her,” Dalfon says from where he stands behind me, near my friends.
“Thank you, Dalfon,” Jullian hurries to say before Baydel can respond. “He’s in the healing quarters. His family has been summoned.”
Dalfon dips his head.
“Fine,” Baydel says, then flicks his wrist, dismissing me in a way that makes my hackles rise. “Neither we nor the Royal Authority Council have any other need of you in this moment.”
I bow dramatically. “Thank you ever so much for your attention, your highnesses.”
They each note the bite in my tone.
I don’t care.
It takes all of my willpower to leash the emotion raging inside me. I know violence isn’t the answer, but damn Baydel likes to test my patience. Sometimes I think there’s no other way to communicate with him other than through pain and suffering.
Dalfon leads the way out of the room with Mirren, Layce, Ivy, and me following him.
“You want us with you?” Layce asks, her voice low as we weave through the palace, following Dalfon all the way to the healing quarters.
“Yes,” I say. “It’s going to take all of us to solve this.
” And I hope we can. I honestly don’t know what seeing the dead will do, but this enhancement has claimed too many people.
Hopefully Atlas will reach out to me with some answers now that I’m back, but with Jax gone, he might not.
He has no reason to trust me. I’ll ask Mirren to look into him, see if she can dig up where he might frequent so we can find him.
Dalfon leads us into a wide room, the space filled with single feather beds, some occupied and blocked off by hanging linen curtains, others empty.
The walls are lined with dark wooden shelves packed with herbs and liquids in glittering glass bottles.
The pungent odor of burned sage and crisp mint hangs in the air, and there’s a charge, too, like Layce’s lightning powers, from all the Occuli healers using their blue flames behind those closed curtains.
We walk past all of this, heading to a closed door. Dalfon speaks with another healer, who lets us in.
The minute the door closes behind us, there’s a weight in the room I can’t describe. It’s heavy and thick as we stop before a hip-height marble slab with a thin, sheer cloth laid over what is clearly a body.
The most recent death.
Dalfon picks up a scroll resting on a smaller table near the marble. He reads it quickly before setting it back down. “Found in the palace’s reception area,” he says. “No traces of the enhancement on his person.”
“Baydel says he worked here?” I ask, keeping my voice as gentle as possible. It feels wrong to speak too loudly.
Ivy steps closer to the marble, her brow furrowed.
“Yes,” Dalfon answers, eyeing Ivy.
“Can I?” she asks Dalfon, her hand poised over the sheet.
He nods.
She slowly pulls it back, then clenches her eyes shut.
“Ivy?” Layce and I are at her side in seconds.
I can’t blame her for the reaction. The person looks . . . wrong. Of course, no dead body looks right, but this . . . His skin is pale and grayish, his cheeks gaunt. Just like the Fader’s memory. Just like the duke had described to us before. Like the life has been drained right out of him.
Ivy gently replaces the sheet, leaning into Layce’s and my embrace.
“I knew him,” she whispers, tears lining her eyes.
“Oh, Ivy, I’m so sorry.” I hug her tight. I should have thought of this—she has friends and acquaintances all over Lumathyst. “I wouldn’t have asked you to come if I thought there was a chance you’d know him personally.” It’s hard enough to see this as a stranger.
Ivy takes a deep breath, glancing at Dalfon, who has shifted in front of us so we can no longer see the body as he examines it, his blue flames crackling to life.
“We’ll wait outside, Dalfon,” Mirren says, urging us through the doors, out of the healing quarters, and into the hallway.
“It’s the same as the memory,” I whisper.
Ivy takes a breath, then glances around at the empty hallway. “I knew him,” she says again, her gaze more intently on mine. “Last year, for the Choosing, he gave me a gift,” she says with more emphasis.
My blood runs cold. A gift. Last year. The Choosing.
A map of the palace springs to my memory, one I spent countless hours studying. One that cost me half a year’s earnings to buy from Ivy’s friend who worked in the palace. This friend.
I hug Ivy tightly. “I’m so sorry,” I say again.
“Do you think . . . Do you think it’s connected?” She whispers the question in my ear. “Do you think it’s the reason—”