Chapter Forty-Two Rhea
Stephan had left the morning after my introduction to him. Though King Dolian and Simon were careful with what information they shared in my presence, I surmised from what they did say that it would be a few weeks before Stephan would return.
As the days passed and the next visit with the sirens loomed nearer, I found myself both terrified with anticipation and utterly bored with the monotonous execution of my schedule.
Every day, I had dance lessons with Xander—a male who might have been willing to help me but who certainly wasn’t keen on lively conversation—and tea lessons with Eve, who luckily was keen on such things.
The bruises I had noticed on her were yellow now, and sometimes during our one-on-one time, I thought about asking her what really happened.
If someone here was hurting her. If that someone might travel with us back to Vitour after this meeting with the sirens.
But every time the words bubbled up my throat, I swallowed them back down.
Eve was good about respecting my privacy, taking note when I dodged a question and never bringing the topic back up again.
I at least owed her the same courtesy. While I still couldn’t let my guard down fully around her, I found myself looking forward to her bright smile and cheery attitude.
After tea lessons, we would part and the rest of my day would be spent scouring books in the library, hoping that I could figure out how to release siren magic from the ring—based on what the siren queen had said during her last visit.
On one occasion, Xander found me reading between stacks of books, and he quietly relayed word from his men back in Vitour.
There was rumor that the Shifter Kingdom underwent some sort of mutiny and the king, Kai, had been nearly overthrown.
My concern had immediately shifted to Bahira before I remembered that she was back home.
But then Simon’s words danced in my mind, worry for her being accused of treason making my stomach churn.
Neither Xander nor the king and his advisor had any updates on Nox.
I was torn over what to believe because either Nox had attacked healers and was sick and possibly magicless, or he was fine and simply hadn’t figured out where I was yet.
Both options provoked spiraling thoughts that left me feeling impossibly more anxious.
But I tell myself that I can’t let my unease over so many unknowns occupy all of my thoughts. All I can do is focus on my next steps here. On staying out of the king’s hands and away from his advisor’s leering glares.
It is all easier said than done.
The wind whips my hair across my face while I stare out at the gray ocean, its color reflecting the morose storm clouds above it.
Another chilly gust scrapes along my nose, and I’m grateful Eve insisted I wear a velvet long-sleeved dress today, the dark blue material warding off the cold everywhere it covers me.
I wipe my palms on my dress, the soft material soothing, as King Dolian adjusts the crown on his head.
He stands to my left, a whole step ahead of me and everyone else here, as if the crown alone isn’t enough to differentiate himself.
As if the sirens are unaware of who he is.
Though I hate to acknowledge his presence at all, I have studied the way my uncle presents himself both in the residence and outside of it when speaking to others.
His posture is always perfect, his look the same elegant, refined royal taste I have come to know.
But in fleeting moments, ones I was sure he didn’t realize he showed, I saw beneath the facade to a small and lonely man with a twisted viewpoint on the world and enough power to change it for the worse.
I know he thinks this kingdom owes him something because of what happened between him, my mother, and my father.
And I harbor zero doubts that he will do whatever it takes to claim everything he wants, including me.
But even now, as he stares out at the choppy ocean waiting for Queen Amari, I see the nerves that he tries to hide.
He spins the ring matching mine on his finger, rolling his shoulders back for the tenth time since we arrived on this freezing beach.
I should delight in the fact that there is somebody out there who has this effect on him, but all I can think about is her last visit.
The way Queen Amari had relished watching me kill those guards.
I wonder if King Dolian’s unease is a sign that the siren queen holds much more sway over him than anyone realizes.
Xander stands to my right, dressed in his golden armor with enough weapons strapped to him that it’s a marvel he can walk properly.
In sand no less. Behind us stands the Spell and, behind that, a line of guards only ten across.
I can feel their gazes at my back, their silent judgment making me fidget to the point that Xander turns his head to look at me.
I had killed so many guards the last time, ones I imagined were friends of those behind me.
I can’t blame any of them for the glares.
“They’re fucking late,” the king growls, tugging on his vest, its color abhorrently matching my dress.
Simon is noticeably absent, left at the front door to see us off with orders to ensure our boat is ready to leave by tomorrow afternoon.
The carriage ride had been a bumpy one, my knee constantly hitting into the king’s no matter which way I positioned my body.
Each touch—no matter the layers of clothing between us—did nothing but send revulsion through me and make the brand on my hip itch with awareness.
I hate the mark, hate the man who gave it to me.
Hate that I’m trapped here, a mouse scurrying in a maze only to find dead end after dead end.
I don’t realize how hard I’m gritting my teeth together until pain shoots up my temple.
There is an audible gasp behind me, and when I cast my gaze out to the sea, I see three heads rise from the water.
I watch in awe as the sirens emerge, their transformation a waterfall effect that starts at the crowns of their heads and moves over their bodies with ease.
Their scales seem to retreat into their bodies, leaving only the faintest glimmer of color over their dark brown skin.
While the queen and the one standing to her left have curls in long strands that cover their chests, the bright pink hair of the siren on the right only just touches her collarbones.
Her expression is one of boredom, as if making an entrance onto the beach completely nude is part of a normal day for her.
Maybe it is.
“Your Majesty,” King Dolian says, his posture stiff as he stares at the queen. She gives him a brilliant smile in return, one that neither reaches her eyes nor reads as anything remotely sincere.
“King Dolian, thank you for meeting us here.” Her eyes land on me, a callousness in them that makes me go rigid.
I once read that there are parts of the ocean untouched by the sun, places so dark and deep that not even the sirens had ever dared to explore them.
That’s what her gaze reminds of—a place devoid of light. “And for bringing Lady Rhea.”
“It is a pleasure to see you, of course,” the king says coolly, cocking his head to the side.
“But I am curious what is so important that you need to speak in person instead of through the Mirrors.” The queen’s eyes snap back to his as she flattens her lips.
The ruby-haired siren to her left works a rough swallow down her throat.
“Watch your tongue, Mortal King. I have killed men for far less.”
“Kill me, and all of our deals become void,” he retorts, sliding his hands into his pockets.
Xander adjusts his stance at my side, the creaking of his armor drawing the gazes of both sirens that flank the queen.
I study them, bouncing my attention back and forth.
The pink-haired siren’s features are harsher, her bright pink eyes boring into Xander’s while her sharp jaw clenches.
It’s a look that mimics the queen’s, and it makes me wonder if they are related.
The other siren’s eyes don’t match her hair, their orange hue similar to the king’s.
Her features are softer, and dark freckles pepper her cheeks.
When her gaze meets mine, there is no malice or even curiosity there.
All I see is the same trepidation reflected on her face that I feel inside.
“Luckily for us both, killing you is not in my best interest. Not yet anyway.” The queen grips her trident—a dark golden weapon tipped with jagged-looking diamonds larger than my arm—flipping it so that the sharp ends point directly at the king.
The sound of blades sliding from their sheaths slices the air behind me, but Xander holds out a hand, halting the guards’ reactions to the threat.
“Look at how they react so strongly to protect you. What a loyal army you have.”
King Dolian says nothing, his posture still like a statue though his hands flex where he’s stuffed them in his pockets. “They do as they are told.”
“As all soldiers should.” Despite the sea and wind dancing around us, the queen projects her voice loudly enough to be heard. “Did you know that we keep a legion under the sea?”
Xander’s hand drops to one of his sheathed swords, his fingers squeezing the hilt. The pink-haired siren traces the movement, baring her teeth at him in warning.
“I’m not foolish enough to assume a realm—even one beneath the surface—would leave themselves vulnerable should this damned Spell ever come down,” Dolian replies.