Chapter 15
Chapter Fifteen
Ophelia
It would be a two-day journey to the location in the Southern Pass, then possibly another day or night to locate the Engrossian camp and stake it out. I didn’t want to waste any more time lingering in Damenal when they already had two weeks on us.
“You have everything?” my father asked for the third time, finishing the loose braid in Sapphire’s mane outside the palace stables.
“Yes, we’ve been over the plan. There’s nothing left to do but act.”
“I’ll watch out for them, sir,” Danya, the Master of Weapons and Warfare assured him, and I could feel the relief in my father’s exhale.
Young by warrior standards—in her early forties—Danya had earned her position on the council prior to the war and proved that she deserved it despite the outcome.
She was a small woman who flawlessly wielded a sword greater than my father’s, a weapon that should have thrown her solid frame off balance, yet she controlled it.
A true master. A reliable source of protection.
My father smiled at her. “Thank you, Danya.”
She nodded, cropped black hair swaying, and left to see that the others were ready.
“And thank you, Father, for watching over the city.” He’d be staying behind with Larcen, Alvaron, and Missyneth to ensure Damenal was defended. Now that we knew there was an active Engrossian threat, preparations were being made.
“You’re sure you want to do this?” His eyes flicked over my shoulder to where the rest of our party was readying the horses. I knew who he was assessing—Barrett. He and his consort, Dax, would be attending the raid with us. Bound in chains.
Between Tolek, Jezebel, Cypherion, the delegates, and the handful of warriors Danya had selected, we’d ensure the Engrossian heir wasn’t a threat. Malakai had even decided to attend at the last moment, surprising us all, but I promised him he could keep well away from his half-brother.
“It’s a risk,” I agreed, watching the prince struggle onto the horse he’d share with a Mystique guard.
“But he showed up here. He requested an audience and was desperate enough to hop the fence, despite the guards. He led the man he loves into potential danger for this.” That had to mean something.
I was wary, but a small piece of me wanted to trust him.
Or at least find out what else he hid. “He’s supposed to be our enemy, but the pieces aren’t aligning. ”
My father was silent for a moment. Then, quiet and pained, he said, “He looks so much like him.” He watched Malakai readying his own horse in solitude. “Be careful, sorrida.”
The warning felt like it was about more than just Barrett.
“I will, Father. I’ll see you in time for the Renaiss festival next week.” It would be a day to celebrate the promises and hope we’d been blessed with this year—a day our people needed.
“I’ll see you. I love you.”
“I love you, too.”
We left the city then and set off on the word of a supposed enemy.
Boulders formed tall walls around our camp as I sat beside Jezebel the first evening of the journey. Leaning back, I looked to the sky overhead, dusk creeping slowly toward night. Tall grass tickled the backs of my legs, and for a moment, serenity wrapped around me.
I breathed it in. Breathed it out. Closed my eyes. Wondered about what we’d face in a few days, listening to the crunch of Jezzie’s knife through crusty bread. Something about the mundane action of my sister preparing food was soothing amid the unknown.
The others had all taken to their own tasks—surveying the area, planning tomorrow’s route, watering the horses. But I was content to do as Jez directed.
“You’re buzzing with thought,” she said, handing me a block of cheese to slice.
She wasn’t wrong.
“You support this plan, right?” I started, not looking up from the work, cutting one chunk after another in my calloused hands. The Curse mark on the inside of my wrist swallowed up the starlight as I watched the darkened veins flex with each motion.
Jezebel didn’t pause. “Of course, I do.”
“I suppose I’m worried.” My cheeks flushed with the confession. “Since I’ve claimed this role, I’ve second-guessed my decisions more than usual.”
Now Jez set down her knife.
“Ophelia, what you’ve accomplished so far is extraordinary. Few warriors would have survived what you have, and even fewer would forge ahead. You’re rebuilding our lives. Our city.”
“It’s mainly the Mystiques.”
“They may physically be doing the work,” she countered, “but I’ve spent a lot of time in quieter parts of Damenal since we’ve been there. And do you know what they whisper of?”
“What?”
“Their symbol of hope. The girl who exposed a corrupt regime and put a stop to a conqueror. Your bravery and loyalty and determination, it inspires them.”
Tears stung my eyes, and I brushed them away before Jezebel could see them fall.
Hope. It’s what I’d promised myself to uphold. I’d been outrunning a fear of failure, but perhaps progress wasn’t always loud. Leaps were made in the quiet stretches.
“I’m only doing what has to be done.” My necklace heated, a reassurance from Angelborn herself.
I pressed my palm to its warmth, and it nudged one of my broken pieces, slipping it back into place.
With the comfort of that, I admitted, “I’m worried the chancellors won’t be convinced that I’m fit for this role. ”
They weren’t Mystiques. They didn’t feel the ripple of healing the way our clan did.
“And would that make you view yourself any differently?”
I considered that. “No, but we need their support. It could change the tide of the war.” If Barrett’s word was true, that war had already begun.
“Think of it this way.” Jezebel rose, rinsing her hands with her canteen.
“Use our time out here and the Renaiss festival to show the delegates who you are. You’ve already begun, but here you’ll be the courageous leader and fighter.
There, you’ll be that symbol of hope. Let them see every side of you, and I’m certain they’ll be swayed if they haven’t been already. ”
Show them all of me. Tear down more walls to build my arsenal. I could manage that.
“Thanks, Jez.”
She smiled, but there was an opaque sadness to it.
“How are you?” I prodded, willing her to open up to me.
“I’m fine.” Her eyes flitted away again, searching the clearing we’d settled in for an excuse. They landed on Malakai. “How’s he?”
Now I was the one to look away. “About the same.”
“Ophelia…”
“Don’t start, Jez.” I ducked my head, letting my hair fall in my face as I removed berries from her pack.
I wasn’t ready to peel back the layers of what was happening between Malakai and me.
Because the truth was, I didn’t know. I couldn’t tell how he felt about anything anymore.
His family, Barrett, his own life. He was unhappy—that much was evident.
The foundation of our stable plateau had cracked with the prince’s arrival.
But I couldn’t articulate a single explanation beyond that.
“You two used to share everything.” She spoke gently.
“It’s hard to discuss it all.” I didn’t tell her he wouldn’t talk to me. I didn’t want to paint him as the bad guy. “I’m the one who killed his father.”
“That man needed to die, and I’m certain he knows that.” She sighed, and I thought in that moment she felt the weight of what hovered between me and Malakai. “I’m sure his feelings are complicated.”
“As are mine. He lied to me—”
“Oh, believe me, sister, I am as furious about that as you are. He lied to you—he lied to all of us. And though we all understand why he did it, it’s not an easy thing to accept.
I idolized him growing up, and to learn that he not only hurt you, but left without a real goodbye to any of us—” She inhaled, eyes closing.
“Well, it made me question a lot of things.” Her eyes eased open.
“But what I’m trying to say is that if you want to move forward, you have to do just that. Put it behind you.”
I picked stems off berries, watching a small mountain of them pile up like the words I held within me.
“Or…you must do what is best for you.” Jezebel watched me; she probably caught the tremble of my lips as I bit them.
“But I advise you choose a path forward and allow the Angels to guide you.” There was a layer of sinister weight in her tone I chose to ignore.
It spoke of searing truths. “Or your heart,” she amended. “It will always steer you right.”
I wasn’t sure I knew how to read the shredded, mangled thing my heart had become. For years, it felt like it lived outside of my body, resting wherever Malakai had been, the synced beats the only way I knew he was alive. I was still learning how to own it, how to piece it back together.
I thought Malakai was doing the same with his, but our paths were unaligned. Where they ended, I didn’t know. But even in this conversation, a bit of the edge I’d been living with dulled with my sister’s understanding.
“Sometimes the decisions that are best for you aren’t easy.” She collected the sliced bread and cured meats. “It’s simply the way of the world. Especially in the position you’re in. Those who hold power cannot please everyone.”
My head snapped up. “I’m not a people pleaser.” I’d never made decisions on the whims of others.
“Then why are you not considering what you need now?” She turned toward the group with the prepared meal in hand, taking a step as I mulled her question over in my head.
“How are you so wise, Jez?” I asked, following.
“I’ve had good examples.” She shrugged, a modesty I’d never seen in her flushing her cheeks. “Faced a lot recently.”
I wanted to ask what she meant, what she wasn’t telling me, but there was that opaque curtain between us again, and I knew my sister. She wouldn’t let me find the gap in it until she wanted me to.