Chapter 6
Elara
Elara froze. A roaring, wavelike sound filled her ears as the room spun, making her nauseous and disoriented.
Marry . . . Caelan Stormrider? Exhausted from the earlier struggle, she fought to stay conscious, every muscle screaming for relief as her body longed to collapse.
She took a shaky breath, her heart heavy in her chest.
“Your Highness, may I introduce my son, Captain Caelan Stormrider,” Lord Stormrider said.
Elara scanned the throne room, searching for the man she’d bumped into a few days prior. Then her gaze followed the direction of Lord Stormrider’s outstretched hand.
The Moiren?
The soldier beside her removed his helm and shook out his sweaty hair.
The same sandy-blond curls she’d admired during the first council meeting were now coated with sweat, soot, and blood.
He smirked before kneeling in front of her in a mock proposal.
When he reached for her hand, she crossed her arms in front of her chest.
“You,” she hissed. Her heart dropped.
“In the flesh, Princess.”
When she refused to give him her hand, Caelan rose. He gave a cursory bow with a flourish, taunting her. He flashed her another infuriating smile before turning to face his father.
Elara’s face burned. She had thought him handsome, for stars’ sake—and now? He had attacked her. Humiliated her. His father held her family captive. The weight of it all threatened to send her crumbling to her knees.
“Why?” she asked, voice hollow.
“Consider the gravity of your situation before asking questions, Your Highness.” Lord Stormrider turned to his mage.
“Wait,” Elara said as one of the soldiers grasped her arm, holding her in place.
Her eyes locked on the sorceress, who clicked her tongue, the sound grating on Elara’s tender nerves.
With a wave of the Nimireth’s hand, smoky tendrils curled around the queen’s face, and tears began trickling from her unseeing eyes.
An icy fist gripped Elara’s heart. Her world tilted on its axis, and she was helpless to stop it.
“Stop! Please—don’t hurt them,” she begged.
“Of course not. Not physically, at least,” the sorceress purred.
“If you want my cooperation,” Elara hissed at Lord Stormrider, “you will keep your Nimireth in check. Do not harm my family—physically or otherwise.”
“That’s enough, Seraphine.”
The blond woman pouted, then obeyed. The queen’s tears ceased.
Elara released the breath she’d been holding and the last of her adrenaline faded. I have to keep them safe, she thought. No matter what.
“Well, Your Highness?” Lord Stormrider leaned forward, interlacing his fingers under his chin.
Elara swallowed a lump in her throat. “I accept your proposal. I will marry your son in exchange for my family’s safety.”
What have I done? she thought, mind racing. I bought us all time. I can figure this out.
A muscle in Lord Stormrider’s cheek twitched. “I’m pleased to hear that, Princess. One last thing: tell no one of what transpired tonight.” He nodded at the soldiers to escort her out.
“Sleep well, Princess,” Caelan called as her captors marched her out of the throne room.
She refused to look back. Before they reached the threshold, her vision blurred, the pain in her heart and hand throbbing. Her knees buckled. The soldiers tried to catch her swaying form before she hit the floor, the world around her slipping away.
Asharp tap,tap ,tap on glass pulled Elara from sleep.
The soft rays of first morning light filtered through her window.
She sat upright, rubbing her eyes, and crawled out of bed to investigate.
A raven perched on the outer sill, clacking its massive beak against a pane of crimson glass in the lower corner.
Instead of flying away as she approached, it tilted its head and blinked a beady, intelligent eye at her.
She turned away from the strange bird, unsettled, and went to sit at her desk.
The chair was missing. Soot stains and burn marks freckled the floor where embers had fallen. Memories rushed back to her.
The broken chair.
The fire near the gate.
The proposal.
Elara inspected her room, noting that whoever had cleaned it last night had left little evidence of what had transpired. She had collapsed in the throne room, which meant someone had carried her to her chamber and tucked her back into bed, then tidied up. She shuddered.
I was hoping it was just a nightmare.
Elara raked her hands through her hair. She glanced again at the burn marks near her feet, then paused.
She held her right hand out to examine it.
There was no blister, no redness, not even a hint of the searing pain she’d felt just hours before when she’d plunged her hand into the hearth.
Her knuckles and fingernails were unscathed despite her frantic scratching and hitting against Caelan’s impenetrable armor.
After hunting for her hand mirror, Elara kneeled by her bedside table to make use of the faint light emanating from a small lantern there.
She examined her reflection. It was real.
Her black hair was a tangled mess, and her pale face was grimy.
Dried blood, dark and crusty, stained her neck and trailed down onto her torn linen nightgown.
She touched the skin where the blood began.
It was smooth. No cut. No scab. She shook her head.
There was no way she’d escaped that fight without a single scratch.
Unless . . .
She dropped the mirror onto her bedside table and sat on the edge of her bed, hugging her knees into her chest and leaning against the carved oak headboard. Sleep had given her a temporary reprieve from her racing thoughts. Now that she was alone, exhausted, and overwhelmed, she had to face them.
Elara tried to deal with one problem at a time.
Starting with the proposal. She pressed her forehead against her kneecaps and groaned.
She’d agreed to marry Caelan Stormrider.
Maybe it’s worth it, she thought. Maybe if her sister lived, if her father and mother still drew breath, the rest of her—her pride, her future, her crown—could rot for all she cared.
As long as they were safe, nothing else truly mattered.
A soft knock at her chamber door interrupted her thoughts. Elara would know that sound anywhere.
“Come in, Iris,” she called out. Her favorite maid bustled into the room with a cheery smile.
“Morning, Elara!” Iris chirped. “Exciting day, isn’t it?”
“What do you mean?” Elara asked slowly.
“You don’t have to play coy with me, dear,” Iris said. “All the servants are talking about it!”
Elara blinked at her, confused.
Iris placed her hands on her wide hips and pursed her wrinkled lips. “Well now, Elara, I know it’s a big change, but you should be at least a little pleased.”
“What did you hear?” Elara asked, her tone harsher than she’d intended.
“Why, you’re engaged, aren’t you? To that handsome young Captain Stormrider.” Iris beamed.
Lord Stormrider’s order to keep the coup a secret rattled in the back of Elara’s mind. Play along. Find out how much she knows.
“Right. I’m thrilled,” she said, rolling her eyes. Iris was well aware of Elara’s strong aversion to the concept of marriage. She aimed to be a queen in her own capacity, not just a king’s wife, and definitely not a pawn in some political alliance.
“That’s the spirit,” Iris said, winking.
“What else did you hear about what . . . happened last night?”
“Just that there was an accident—some hay out front caught fire. Probably another drunken guard milling about with his pipe, if you ask me,” she scoffed. “The king really should do something about the stardust dens.” She glanced warily at Elara. “My apologies!”
“It’s all right, Iris. I don’t like them any more than you do.
” Elara shrugged. The red parlors were a shameful fraction of the black market her father had allowed to pollute the capital.
First aether, now the artifices. The king meant well; keeping the council happy was the best way to ensure peace and protect the crown.
She shook her head and unfolded herself, standing.
Iris continued chattering. “Not to worry though, dear. We’ll have everything cleaned up in no time. We must make a good impression, after all!”
Bile rose to the back of Elara’s throat. Stormrider’s men had worked fast to cover up their coup in a single night, by clearing the physical evidence and apparently feeding the palace rumor mill.
“Now, let’s get you ready for breakfast,” Iris said as she finally looked at Elara in the full daylight. “Stars above, Elara! What happened to you?”
“Nothing,” Elara said. Lord Stormrider had warned her—threatened her—not to talk about the coup. Besides, the fewer people who were aware of the truth, the more she could safeguard her family. If the wrong nobles found out the royal family was compromised, she’d have more enemies to contend with.
Iris shook her head. “Come now, I may be losing my eyesight, but I know that’s blood on your neck and smock.”
Elara sighed. “I think I was sleepwalking in the garden again. Nerves, I suppose. Must have scratched myself on something. I’m fine, Iris. Can you please draw me a bath?” She hoped the lie would stick, seeing as she had sleepwalked several times as a child.
Iris looked skeptical but didn’t press. “Of course! We ought to lock you in here at night,” she teased before hastening to the adjacent washroom.
After a long soak in the clawfoot tub that left her fingertips wrinkled, Elara sat on a stool at her vanity.
Iris combed out her tangled hair. Compared to their usual playful chatting, the silence grated on Elara’s taut nerves.
She tugged at a drawer and reached inside.
A tiny box coated with a thick layer of dust hid within.
Picking it up and brushing her hand across its lid, she revealed polished mahogany and a pattern of etched gold swirls.
With a gentle click, she opened the enchanted jewelry box, and her mother’s favorite lullaby filled the room.
“I haven’t heard that thing play in ages,” Iris said.
Elara hummed along to the tune. Despite its beauty, there was a sense of melancholy in the piece.
Appropriate, considering her present situation.
She wondered about the agreement between her father and Lord Stormrider and how it might have soured.
Her best guess was that Lord Stormrider had proposed the marriage alliance and the king had refused.
Her heart squeezed at that. She felt a mix of pride and anger toward her father for not agreeing to the matter outright. Maybe this is all my fault.
Whatever the deal, it had gotten them all into this mess. Had the king confided in her, maybe she could have prevented this situation. She couldn’t shake the feeling that she should have seen this coming from the first moment she laid eyes on Lord Stormrider sulking in her father’s office.
Iris began twisting and pinning curls into an intricate updo. Elara let her smudge kohl around her eyes, as well as place some blush on her cheeks and a cherry shade of stain on her lips. Elara coughed when she inhaled some of the fine powder Iris brushed on her skin.
Iris stepped back, pleased with her handiwork.
Elara held her own gaze in the mirror and waited for Iris to leave and fetch her gown.
The makeup made her look more herself and less like a walking corpse.
Despite the blush and powder, her skin was sallow.
She ran her fingertips over the smooth flesh of her neck where her wound should have been, still finding nothing.
Sapphire eyes above crescent-moon shadows stared back at her.
Iris had selected a silky coral gown for her day dress, and a burgundy gown that had been called up for dinner hung nearby.
Elara felt ridiculous getting dressed up, as if she were meeting essential friends of the crown.
As Iris fussed over the ties of the dress, Elara felt her entire world imploding.
She wanted to scream, shattering the palace’s windows to taste fresh air.
To be free.
There has to be another way. They didn’t want her. Just power. Legitimacy. A wedding was just one way to accomplish that. Couldn’t she offer something else instead? A treaty? A trade agreement? Maybe she didn’t have to wear the chains to keep them from tightening around her family.
“You can do this,” she told her reflection once she was alone. She could face Lord Stormrider and negotiate to get her family out of this mess—without having to marry the man who’d humiliated her. She gulped, remembering the power and strength with which he’d subdued her.
Thoughts of her helpless parents and sister filled her heart with a heavy ache, tears welling up in her eyes as she drew on her inner resolve. She couldn’t afford to fail—not after begging her father for a chance to prove herself for so long. Now she had no choice.
She would find a way to save them all.