Chapter 22
Elara
The palace was a whir of activity. Elara’s long days had begun to blur together.
The council meetings had ended—thankfully with little damage done by Lord Stormrider.
The servants’ thick wool skirts swished across the polished marble floors of the main ballroom as Elara directed them to complete their final tasks.
She had offered to help plan the ball celebrating her engagement, to the great—and somewhat sickening—pleasure of Lord Stormrider.
Good, let him think I am still the docile princess. Elara was presented with two floral arrangements and selected the one on her left, which had blush and lilac blooms. Another checkmark on her never-ending list.
A private food tasting was next on her agenda for the day, and she had invited Sera to join her.
Unfortunately, according to Caelan, Sera would not offer her a lot of input in the meal department.
Her magical talents included being able to transform any food into tasting like her own favorite flavors.
Elara didn’t mind; she was just happy for the opportunity to have a meal with a new ally, which she sorely needed after weeks of training with Caelan and Ursa.
And her cooperation had resulted in more freedom—her shadows wouldn’t be present.
Elara settled at the little round tea table situated in one of the ballroom’s many alcoves and waited for Sera to arrive.
Before her lay a delicate spread of floral teas, light cheeses, a small selection of cured meats, fruit, and a tower of fluffy pastries.
Several candelabras lit the room with their soft glow while the afternoon sun filtered in through the windows.
A footman announced Sera’s arrival, and she floated across the room to the table, clad in a tight lavender gown that highlighted her slender figure.
Elara rose and embraced her roughly, causing Sera’s emerald eyes to widen.
After a heartbeat, Sera wrapped her arms around Elara’s back, completing the embrace.
As both women sat, a deep rumbling growl from Elara’s hungry stomach cut through the quiet. Sera let out a snort, causing Elara to stifle her own giggles before they eagerly filled their plates with the mouthwatering array of food before them. They ate in comfortable companionable silence.
Pressing her napkin to her lips in a graceful motion that would make any noblewoman envious, Sera asked, “So, what would you like to know?”
Elara leaned back in her chair, placing her hand on her now-full stomach. “Is my family safe?”
“No. Next question,” Sera said. Her response wasn’t unkind—Elara actually preferred the directness after weeks of platitudes and rumor-fueled half-truths from servants and courtiers.
Elara’s throat hitched. She’d yet to pen the letter to her family and thought about what she’d want it to say.
I just want them to know that I’m alive, engaged.
That I will do anything to see them safely returned home.
“I just want them home. Do you think Lord Stormrider will bring them back after the wedding?”
Sera’s eyes widened, an almost imperceptible change in expression that years of court training allowed Elara to clock.
“He wants more than the wedding, doesn’t he?” Elara asked.
“What do you think he wants, Elara?” She had her pointed chin casually propped on her fist, concern—and perhaps a bit of surprise at that concern—shining in her eyes.
“To use me to control my father? And to see his son on the throne one day, as king. But to what end?”
Sera shook her head. “You’re thinking too small.
I have lived with the Stormriders for as long as I can remember.
I came to them as a girl, naive and trusting.
He was never like a father to me, or if he was, he was a terrible one.
He’s not doing all of this for a legacy.
Whatever he wants, he wants it for himself. ”
A pit opened up in Elara’s stomach. What if he doesn’t want to wait for Caelan and me to ascend the throne?
He could kill my father. A chill snaked its way down her spine.
She quelled it as best she could. If he wanted the throne for himself, he would have killed us all already. No, he needs us for something . . .
“You’re close to him. What is he planning?”
“I’m not privy to the details. I’m simply a tool.” Sera stabbed a morsel on her plate with such force that Elara feared she’d crack the porcelain with her fork.
A tool. And I’m a pawn. Both of us trapped, used, Elara thought.
“Sera, Caelan and I will wed. Once we get my family back, we will figure out a way to defeat him and free ourselves. Will you help us?” Caelan had made it clear during their dinner that the only way to save her family was to go through with the wedding. And Elara needed Sera on her side.
“Yes,” Sera breathed, eyes shimmering with sincerity.
Elara released a breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding. “Thank you.” A genuine smile tugged the corners of her lips upward.
Sera played with the end of her braid. “I’m sorry, by the way. About your family. About the part I played in their imprisonment. I know what you must be thinking—everyone thinks I’m a monster. A witch. A sorceress.”
Elara’s heart lurched. She imagined the lost little girl that Sera had once been, orphaned and afraid. Like Elara, she’d had to forge herself into something formidable, at least on the exterior. Deep down, they weren’t that different after all. Both were misunderstood by the world around them.
“I’m sorry about Jalin and Kaz too. He made me do it,” Sera added.
“I thought so.” Elara gulped. “What exactly did you do to them?”
Sera touched the pendant hanging from her neck. “I used my essence to conceal their memories after the coup—temporarily, of course.”
A shiver ran dean Elara’s spine. She was alone with the second-most dangerous being she’d ever encountered—after Lord Stormrider himself. The plaster walls of the room seemed to press in around her.
“You’ve grown up in the shadow of a monster, and yet here you are. A talented mage. A loyal friend to Caelan.” Elara folded her hands in her lap. “I’m sorry that fate robbed you of a family like mine.”
“It wasn’t all bad. I had Caelan. And I remember bits and pieces of my parents. I catch my mother’s eyes staring back at me in the mirror. Or hum the lullaby my father used to sing me to sleep.”
Elara nodded, thinking about her own mother.
Her striking blue eyes—which she’d shared with both her daughters—bright with laughter as the king bounced little Thalia on his knee while the queen brushed Elara’s hair.
She felt the echoes of her family’s presence everywhere in the palace; around every corner she turned was a reminder of them.
At least her memories didn’t feel like ghosts just yet.
With any luck, she’d make new ones. Perhaps even a few with Sera in them.
“Caelan really loves you, you know.”
Elara’s mouth fell open. He loves me? She’d suspected as much after their dinner, but to hear Sera say it so plainly . . .
“Do you love him?” Sera asked, raising a perfectly sculpted eyebrow.
“I care about him.” Elara didn’t hesitate, her voice sincere as she shared the truth out loud for the first time. “Do you still love him?” she asked nervously.
“Yes,” Sera replied. “But not romantically. Not anymore. We were children, friends long before we were lovers. He is different with you. This whole thing has changed him. No more women, no more aether. He’s growing into his own man, not just a shadow of his father.
I am happy for you both, truly. To have found each other in the midst of this nightmare. ”
Elara swirled her goblet of sweet wine, staring into the liquid and wishing she could drown in it.
A knot of guilt tightened in her stomach.
Caelan desired her—was in love with her.
Against all odds, her plan to win him over had somehow worked.
And though she had no hope of escaping their wedding, she was no longer certain that was what she wanted.