Chapter 13
Chapter Thirteen
Aleksander
“She could be lying,” Zayn said, looking uncharacteristically flustered.
“What reason would she have to lie about something like this?”
“She could be trying to sow animosity in us, towards our kingdom and the Keepers who have been stewarding the throne since our unceremonious exit.”
“…I don’t think so.”
“They would not have replaced you with some… body double ,” Zayn insisted, scrubbing the remains of our campfire out with his boot. “It’s preposterous to even think of.”
“Is it? Perhaps they panicked when I disappeared and they could think of no better alternative? Maybe they thought Elarith had already seen enough death with my parents, and the death of a third royal family member might have sent too many of them over the edge. We’ve talked about this ourselves over the years, haven’t we?”
It was one of the fears that had haunted me most during my time stuck in this cursed hell—wondering what had become of my kingdom and its people.
My mother’s death had already destabilized Elarith to an alarming degree. Father’s passing had been yet another shift in the foundation of our once illustrious kingdom, and I’d barely been keeping order, honestly—which was the only reason I’d agreed to an arranged marriage with a foreign princess in the first place. A union of kingdoms to help stabilize things. That had been the plan. Eldris was supposed to have been a peaceful, easy target—one with understated power that we could mold to whatever use we needed.
I’d had a foreboding feeling about the ordeal from the start, but I’d trusted the Keepers of Light to know what was best for Elarith, just as my father had, and his father before him, and his father before him …
If only I’d listened to myself.
But how could I have seen any part of these past seven years coming? And my advising council replacing me with an imposter… that was certainly not a possibility that had ever crossed my mind.
“According to Nova, they’ve been building a narrative that she is the one responsible for her parents’ demise and the dark curse surrounding Rose Point,” I told Zayn. “This so-called King of Elarith has declared himself a steward of the Eldrisan throne. So, we’ve gained control of that kingdom after all—though not in the agreed-upon way.”
Irritation flared hot in my veins.
But at who ?
The imposter? The Light Keepers? Myself?
I couldn’t decide who I hated more in that moment.
Zayn shook his head. “It’s borderline treasonous that they would even consider using a puppet version of you to continue ruling.”
I tried to offer a reasonable response, even as suppressed rage cut a hot, twisting path through my insides. “What would the alternative have been? You were next in line to the throne after me. And you disappeared that night, too, in case you forgot. Wren would be after you. Hardly a capable ruler seven years ago, was she?”
Wren was his younger sister, and she’d been scarcely a year old when we disappeared. After her, the line of succession grew considerably more blurry.
He started to argue several times, but ultimately, he merely shook his head, massaging the space between his eyes, and said, “What a godsdamn disaster this all is.”
“An understatement.” I used a stick to absently spread out the smoldering ashes of the fire as I considered everything. After a minute, I said, “And it seems like impossibly bad luck, doesn’t it?”
Zayn tilted his head curiously, reading the unspoken implications in my tone, as he usually did; we’d always been close enough to do that. And nothing made you even closer than seven years stuck together in Hell.
“…You don’t think it was all bad luck , do you?” he asked.
“I know the Eldrisan King had misgivings about marrying his daughter off to me. Perhaps there was fear he wouldn’t go through with the arrangement.”
“So you believe the Keepers arranged for someone to murder him?”
“All I know is that I am not the one who stabbed the king that night. But there are several members of the Light Keepers who would have liked for me to do precisely that.” I speared a chunk of burned wood, shattering it into smaller flecks of ash and embers. “I didn’t see who actually wielded the blade against him. The blightdust powder that exploded on the veranda made it impossible to make out what was happening until it was too late to do anything about it.”
As soon as my vision had cleared, I’d reflexively gone for the sword— my sword—that had somehow ended up impaled in King Eryndor’s chest. And that, of course, was where my hand had been when Nova stumbled onto the scene.
Part of me wondered if that was intentional, too.
If someone had intended to frame me.
What had happened next, though, likely had not been part of anybody’s plans. Meticulous, conniving, string-pulling masters they might have been, but I doubted any of the Keepers had planned on Nova ripping open a fucking portal to Hell and sending me and my closest followers crashing through it.
She had been dangerously unpredictable— chaotic —from the beginning.
Zayn stared into the smoke spiraling up from the charred wood I’d stabbed. He didn’t seem enthusiastic about continuing this line of discussion.
I didn’t blame him.
Too many things didn’t add up, and there was little we could do about any of it while we were trapped down here.
“The only way to find answers is to get back to the living world,” I said, “where we can confront it all for ourselves.”
Zayn crossed his arms in front of his chest, tilting his head to the bruise-colored sky. He was lost in thought for several moments before he said, “Right. Which should be exceptionally easy to do— especially if your magic keeps flying out of control and threatening to destroy this realm and kill us all.”
I ignored his sardonic tone, getting to my feet and busying myself with packing my bags, trying not to think about last night.
It was impossible not to think about it, though.
We’d camped a fair distance away from the worst of the destruction, but there were still thin, jagged cracks reaching toward where we now stood, reminding me of the destruction I’d caused. And nearly caused.
I remembered little of what had happened.
One moment, I’d been arguing with Zayn about something, while simultaneously keeping an eye on the conversation Nova and Thalia had been having on the hilltop.
Then Nova had disappeared, and all the world had seemed to grow louder in her absence—roars of thunder and clanging metal in my head, like I was in the middle of a battlefield while swords clashed and shields splintered all around me.
I remembered blinding light. Kneeling. Drawing into myself. Thinking I could keep the war inside—away from the others—if only I shut myself down tightly enough.
I remembered sudden cold. A hand on my arm. Shadows giving shape to the light. Sudden clarity…
And then I’d woken up in the middle of the night to find myself surrounded by flowers. And grass —lush, green grass. All of it different from the things I’d grown down here in the past; its creation had been effortless, for starters. And it all continued to live, even now, even without any help from me. It was hard to explain, but the small garden we’d created didn’t look like out-of-place, glowing magic; it looked like it had always been a part of this world. Simple and unassuming. Balanced and meant to be.
The sound of laughter caught my attention. Nova was a short distance away, talking with Rowen and Farren, helping them pack up the last of our campsite. Even Rowen was smiling at whatever she was saying; I couldn’t remember the last time I’d seen that grumpy old bastard smile at anything.
And laughter wasn’t a sound I’d heard often throughout my time in this purgatory—maybe that was why it caught my attention. Why I couldn’t seem to stop staring at her.
Zayn nudged my arm, letting out a long-suffering sigh. “At least our cheerful necromancer companion is able to settle your magic down, eh?”
She did more than merely settle it.
Though I wasn’t ready to admit it to anyone—least of all to my assuming ass of a cousin—after this latest incident where her magic had apparently balanced mine, I’d woken up feeling… stronger . Undeniably stronger. And when she’d touched me last night, with purpose and poise and curiosity gleaming in her bright eyes, I’d felt…
Well, it didn’t matter what feelings I’d had.
But the fact remained: This was a cruel fucking joke the universe seemed to be playing, and I was not at all amused.
“So, you two will just have to stay close, I guess.” Zayn’s tone was loaded with implications.
I shot him a withering look.
He only smiled. “It could be worse.”
“It could also be better.”
“You two were destined to be wed. You’re trying to tell me you never imagined what it might be like to have her close? And all to yourself?”
It irked me for some reason, hearing him talk about her as if she were little more than a political piece. “We were never actually engaged,” I reminded him. “She agreed to nothing.”
She also certainly hadn’t agreed to being the apparent balancing act for my wayward magic—which was why I would be doing everything in my power to keep my distance from her, regardless of how desperately I might have craved the clarity and strength she seemed to bring me.
I didn’t like being anybody’s burden.
I never had.
I’d had roles to play throughout most of my life. I’d always known exactly what they were, and I had performed them perfectly . Never a foot out of line, never a word misspoken, never an extra weight added to anyone . All my life, I’d thought I could keep my kingdom intact if I just did what was expected of me. This idea had been driven into my head, staked into my heart, buried into the very core of my being. Strict and unflinching. For twenty years, that had been the only world I knew.
Then came Rose Point.
And this chaos surrounding me now…
I hated it.
“Let’s stay focused on the bigger picture,” I said, forcing my gaze to stay on Zayn, and to not stray to the primary conductor of the chaos herself. “Our supposed bond aside, the more important fact is this: She was able to get into this realm. Which means she can help us get out of it, too, hopefully.”
“And that return will be an interesting day in our kingdom’s history, hm?”
I didn’t comment on this.
Interesting was not the first word that came to my mind.
I didn’t know what game the Keepers of Light were playing. But I knew what they were capable of. There was a reason the Elarithian throne was as powerful as it was—why most of the Valorian Empire cowered before it.
But I was the head of that throne, not them.
It was the role I’d been groomed for my entire life, and the more I thought about it, the more I refused to believe they would dare put an imposter in my place.
So what was truly going on?
Zayn sauntered away, heading to join Nova and the others. I don’t know what he said to her, but moments later, she was shouldering her bag and walking in my direction.
She looked pleased with herself, which—if I had to guess—was likely bad news for me.
I went back to arranging my own bags, casting her a wary glance as she stopped directly in front of me. “Your smile is entirely too cheerful, given our circumstances. What chaos have you orchestrated this time?”
She lifted her chin. “I made a deal with Thalia.”
“Do tell.”
“She knows of Luminor and its location.”
“Right. Or she claims she does, at least.”
She ignored my pessimistic outlook. “She’s agreed to guide us to it, if I agree to bring you along and keep you and your magic from destroying anything else along the way. She wants us to stay close to one another, as that seems to keep our magic, well… balanced . And the sword is apparently being kept in a safe place that’s nullifying its magic and keeping it from doing any more damage than it already has, so…”
“So she ultimately wants to lock me and my magic in that same place, I assume, so that I might be neutralized along with the sword? And how lucky for her that you came along to serve as a guard and escort.”
“Well, she didn’t say any of that—”
“But of course, why wouldn’t I agree to such a brilliant plan that could in no way end poorly for me?”
She fumed, clearly too annoyed to reply right away. And the pout of her lips, combined with the fiery challenge in her eyes…
Fucking hell .
She was beautiful, and all of a sudden, my mind was not where it should have been in that moment.
Regardless, I kept my voice and my appearance perfectly level. Perfectly regal in its smoothness, its confidence—just the way I’d been raised to perform. “So, you essentially convinced her that you had a chain tied around my neck? That you could drag me along wherever you wished, thanks to this cursed magical bond we seem to have developed between us.”
She shrugged. “I didn’t use those exact words. But yes. Essentially .”
“And what happens if I break the chain?”
She fixed those impossibly bright eyes of hers on me, unflinching, and said, “I have other methods of keeping wayward beasts under control without the need for chains .”
“Do you?” I couldn’t help myself. I licked my lips and leaned in closer. “I’d love a demonstration.”
“Don’t tempt me.”
“Don’t arouse my curiosity.”
“I’m not responsible for your arousal.”
“That depends entirely on your definition of responsible for , doesn’t it?”
Her breath audibly hitched at the low tone my voice had taken on. It was an unexpectedly intoxicating sound, drawing me even closer, like a sailor being drawn in by a siren’s song.
Too close.
Yet, just as it had before—just as I’d explained to her last night—the closeness led to clarity. I came within an arm’s-length of her, and the world seemed to still, to go silent save for the whisper of our breaths, the beating of our hearts, the hum of our magic.
She didn’t pull a knife on me, this time, but I forced myself not to move any closer, regardless.
I should not have been playing this game.
Then again, how could I know what effect she truly had on my magic unless we experimented? The question was in my mind now, despite my best efforts to silence it—how strong could my power become if it melded more fully with hers? Strong enough to raise me from this hell? To carve a path back to the living world and confront the one sitting on my throne?
She didn’t agree to be the balancing act for your magic , I reminded myself.
And yet, she wasn’t moving away from me and that magic.
She looked ready to meet whatever spark I threw her way, and the thought enraptured me more than it should have. I didn’t trust myself to act on it.
It wasn’t a sensation I was used to feeling—that mistrust of myself. Again, all this chaos…
I fucking hated it.
“Those were her terms,” she said, defiantly. “If you want her to take us to your sword, you’re going to have to behave.”
I couldn’t help the smirk that crossed my face, knowing it would cause her lips to press into that alluring little pout once more. “I’ll do my best,” I told her, “but I’m not making any promises.”