Chapter 53
Chapter Fifty-Three
REIYANA
T he next morning, the sun bathed the palace gardens in gold, dewdrops on the grass glinting like scattered limyerites. The air was crisp, carrying the promise of warmth later in the day. The serene quiet was broken only by the occasional thrum of an arrow slicing through the air.
Reiya stood ready, bow drawn, shoulders set as she stared down the target across the expanse of grass.
“Hold steady,” Captain Marzius said behind her, voice calm but firm. “Your elbow is too high, Princess. Lower it slightly. Good. Now, aim past the mark—let the arrow follow the line.”
She exhaled slowly and released. The arrow streaked forward, sinking into the edge of the target with a satisfying thunk.
“Better,” he acknowledged. “But consistency wins battles. Victory isn’t claimed by a single arrow, but by the precision of many.”
“Of course, Captain Serious,” Kaelen called out from where he and Alarik sat under a shaded pavilion nearby, a pot of coffee and a tray of spiced pastries between them. He lounged with his usual relaxed grace, a teasing grin tugging at his lips.
“Do lighten up, or we might think you’ve forgotten how to smile. ”
She turned and caught the briefest twitch at the captain’s mouth, though he didn’t take the bait.
“Discipline isn’t a matter of mood, my Tazahrin.”
Alarik sipped his coffee, golden gaze flicking briefly to her before returning to Kaelen. “He’s right, you know. Perhaps if you trained under Marzius as a boy, your archery would be less about showmanship and more about accuracy.”
Kaelen laughed, unabashed. “I still won the archery competition in Aethonia, didn’t I?”
“Luck,” his brother replied, deadpan.
She suppressed a smile. “If you two are going to bicker like children, at least do it where you won’t ruin my concentration.”
Kaelen’s grin widened. “Only trying to keep the mood light, Sáel. Marzius is rather notorious for his lack of humour.”
“Back to form,” Marzius interjected, nodding toward her bow. “Your focus has slipped. I will send the Tazahrin and Prince Alarik away if they prove to be more distraction than support.”
Reiya drew another arrow from her quiver, fighting back a smile.
The playful banter between the brothers was a welcome contrast to the captain’s sharp, measured critiques—each one striking with all the precision of a well-aimed arrow.
Yet he remained impervious to their teasing, composure as steady as ever.
It struck her how natural their camaraderie was—Kaelen, Alarik, and Marzius—an interplay of wit and respect that felt almost familial.
‘Tazahrin and Prince Alarik,’ the captain had called them earlier.
The phrasing lingered in her mind. Unlike others at court, he’d never referred to Alarik as Tazahriv—the Lesser Prince. The absence of that title, so often wielded as a subtle insult, didn’t go unnoticed.
Lesser in quality, lesser in worth; such insinuations clung to the term like thorns.
But not from Marzius. To him, it was always Prince Alarik, spoken with the same steady respect he showed Kaelen.
Her gaze flicked to Alarik, who sat beside his brother, his eyes glinting with amusement as they exchanged remarks. The sight warmed her heart. Marzius’s quiet refusal to use the belittling title only elevated the captain in her eyes—another testament to the bond he shared with the brothers.
As she lined up her next shot, her gaze fixed on the arrow, but a memory pulled at her—copper hair in the street, the unease of Castiel’s shadow still lingering.
“Any word from your search, Captain?” she asked as she loosed the arrow. It struck closer to centre, though still shy of the mark. Lowering her bow, she turned to Marzius, her voice pitched just loud enough for the princes to hear.
“No sign of him,” Alarik admitted, his voice calm but edged with tension. “Marzius’s men have scoured every possible lead, but Castiel seems to have disappeared.”
The captain clasped his hands behind his back. “We’ve expanded the search beyond Mezerin, but he’s nowhere to be found. Either he’s gone to ground—or fled the kingdom altogether.”
Kaelen’s gaze darkened. “Since Jodhar’s death, the city gates have been under strict watch. Every soul is questioned at the crossings. Could he truly have slipped away unseen?”
Reiya lowered her bow, a faint frown tugging at her brow. “I’m beginning to wonder if I imagined him.”
Deep down, she knew—mistaken sighting or not, the Tidebinder’s knot and silversage resin on the arrow that killed Jodhar were too precise to be coincidence.
Kaelen leaned back in his chair, thoughtful. “Better to be cautious than regretful. This is your home now, and I won’t have you living in fear.” His scoff carried a sharp edge. “It’d be Jodhar all over again—though I’d wager Castiel is far more cunning than that thick-skulled oaf ever was.”
“We haven’t exhausted all efforts yet,” the captain said. “We’ll continue with our search, and?—”
Before he could finish, a flutter of movement caught their attention.
The king approached, his retinue trailing behind him, the gold of his robes catching the sunlight. At his side walked Anna?s, resplendent as ever, her rose-pink gown a stark contrast against the green hues of the palace garden .
Lady Neda walked steadily on the king’s other side, her expression unreadable
Reiya lowered her bow and smoothed her dress as the group approached. The brothers rose from their seats and descended the pavilion to stand beside her. The king’s presence always carried a weight demanding attention, but today, his usually solemn demeanour seemed lighter—almost jovial.
“Princess Reiyana,” the king called when he was close, his voice warm. “And my sons. A most delightful morning, it seems.” He nodded at the captain. “Marzius.”
“Good morning, Father,” Kaelen greeted. “You seem in excellent spirits.”
“Seeing my family out and about is always a pleasure.” The king regarded Reiya, quirking a brow. “An Omega learning archery? Quite the tale for the court.”
Reiya inclined her head. “Thank you, Your Majesty. Captain Marzius has been most patient with my efforts.”
“Patience is a virtue in a teacher,” the king replied, though his gaze flicked briefly to Kaelen and Alarik. “And my sons, hard at work, I see. The tax proposal?”
Kaelen offered a small smile. “Nearly ready, Father. We’ve refined the language to ensure merchant cooperation.”
“Good,” the king said with satisfaction. “But today, I bring a different matter. Lady Anna?s suggested a most wonderful idea.”
He gestured toward Anna?s, who stepped forward with practiced grace.
“Your Majesty is too kind,” she said smoothly. “I merely suggested a way to mark this moment in Asadia’s history. The princess deserves a celebration worthy of her station.”
Reiya’s brow tightened. “A celebration?”
“A masked ball,” Anna?s declared, her eyes bright. “A grand masquerade to present you formally to the court and Asadia’s allies. Such affairs are the height of fashion abroad—surely Asadia should not lag behind.”
A cold knot coiled in Reiya’s stomach, though she kept her expression smooth. A masquerade? The timing felt too neat, too sudden. Her mind snapped to all the ways masks could be used to hide more than just faces.
“It’s a gracious thought, Your Majesty,” she murmured, “but if this is to be a wedding celebration, I’d hoped my family might be present for it. They’ve yet to decide on their journey.”
Lady Neda, quiet at the king’s side, inclined her head. “Reiyana raises a fair point. A celebration without her kin might be deemed . . . premature.”
Anna?s, ever poised, offered a smooth reply. “Naturally, their presence would be ideal. But this need not be the wedding—merely a formal introduction, a chance to show the court Asadia’s strength and unity. The formal rites can follow once the princess’s family arrives.”
The king nodded slowly. “Anna?s speaks wisely. The wedding banquet shall come in time, but this ball will serve as a fitting prelude—a chance to affirm the strength of this union before all.”
Reiya pressed her lips together, thoughts churning. The king wanted a display—a declaration to the Nine Issoirean Kingdoms that his sons had secured an Omega bride who might one day bear a Sunborn son or Moonfire daughter, strengthening Asadia’s prestige.
It was no surprise. Such customs were deeply ingrained, and though the spectacle unsettled her—parading Omegas as treasures rather than people—it no longer stung as sharply.
The love she’d found in Kaelen and Alarik softened the edges of her resentment, wrapping it in the quiet assurance that such a bond could be more than a transaction.
Her gaze flicked to Anna?s, standing by the king, a knowing smile on her lips.
If only she could be certain the ball was nothing but a spectacle of sophistication.
Might this event be the perfect stage where veiled intentions met in the dark, where alliances formed behind silk and secrecy? Where the true shape of the Mezerins’ ambitions might finally be revealed?
Her fingers curled at her side.
Would Castiel make an appearance, and proved he had aligned himself with the Mezerins?
If he did, was it merely a Beta helping another Beta rise in power? Or was this part of something far larger—a chain of events designed to shake the very foundations of the nine kingdoms?
The thought sent a shiver down her spine.
If Castiel was part of their plans, she wanted to see it unfold. She wanted to meet his eyes, to finally confront the man who’d once tried to mould her into his perfect pawn.
He’d sought to use her, determine her fate.
He would try again.
But she was no longer the girl who had followed his lead.
This time, she would see the board for what it was. And when the moment came, she would not be the piece maneuvered, but one making the final strike.
Reiya turned back to the king. With measured grace, she sank into a curtsy—elegant, perfectly executed.
“As you wish, Your Majesty.”
His pleasure was evident in the laughter ringing through the gardens. “Splendid. Preparations will be made for the ball three days hence. It will be the grandest event Asadia has seen.”
Smiling, he turned to Lady Neda. “Come, Neda, let’s leave the young ones to their deliberations while we continue our walk.”
Reiya’s gaze lingered on the departing pair. Anna?s glided closer, fingers slipping around her arm with the ease of a confidante conspiring over some shared secret. Her insides shuddered.
“We must discuss our costumes,” Anna?s said, her tone effervescent. “It’s such a shame we didn’t go to the market last time. I didn’t even get to show you my favourite silk vendor.” Her eyes widened, her excitement seemingly genuine. “Why don’t we remedy that this afternoon?”
Reiya blinked. “This afternoon?”
Anna?s nodded, dark waves bouncing.
How sudden.
Was this another excursion designed to draw her out of the palace? Had something been arranged at the market that’d put her straight in Castiel’s hands?
Her instinct screamed at her to tread carefully. Before she could speak, Captain Marzius stepped forward, his expression composed but unmistakably firm.
“My apologies, Princess, but the royal guard is stretched thin today. Several men have been dispatched to the nearby watch post. I fear we lack the numbers to guarantee your safety beyond the palace walls.”
Anna?s turned toward the captain, her smile thinning. “It’s only a simple visit to the market, Captain. Must you be so rigid? Surely there’s no need for a full escort for such a trivial outing.”
Marzius’s mouth twitched, though it wasn’t a smile. “Protecting the royal family is my sworn duty, Lady Anna?s. I treat it with the gravity it deserves.”
He inclined his head, posture crisp. “Might I suggest summoning the vendors and dressmakers to the palace instead? It would ensure the princess’s safety while still accommodating your needs.”
Reiya seized the opportunity. “A thoughtful solution, Captain Marzius,” she said warmly, but with enough firmness to close the matter. She turned to Anna?s. “Isn’t that a wonderful idea? This way, we won’t need to leave the palace.”
Anna?s hesitated, and in that brief moment, Reiya caught the flicker behind her polished facade—annoyance, frustration, quickly smothered.
She recovered gracefully, her smile brightening once more.
“Of course. That’s a brilliant alternative. How very clever of you, Princess, to turn this into an even more exclusive affair. I’ll make the arrangements.”
As the woman withdrew, fingers sliding from her arm with deliberate slowness, she resisted the urge to rub the lingering impression away.
Whatever Anna?s had intended for this market visit, it was clear she’d hoped to pull her into it. But with Captain Marzius’s firm redirection, her game was once again thwarted.
Reiya met his gaze and offered a subtle nod of gratitude. He acknowledged it with the barest tilt of his head—a silent confirmation that he’d seen through the ploy as well.
The princes approached, and together they watched Anna?s disappear beyond the garden path leading to her quarters .
Kaelen’s voice broke the silence. “What’s on your mind, Reiya?”
She glanced at him, then at Alarik. “The ball feels like the moment everything’s been leading to. Whatever Anna?s and her father have planned, I’m certain it will happen then.”
Alarik folded his arms, eyes narrowing. “A ball where masks will be worn—not just to conceal identity, but intent.”
“Precisely.”
Kaelen’s golden gaze met hers. “And Castiel?”
Reiya’s focus drifted to the empty garden path, her thoughts churning as images flashed through her mind—the arrow marked with the Tidebinder’s knot, the fleeting figure at the market.
“If Castiel is here, and if he still plans to retrieve me, the masquerade is where he’ll be,” she said quietly.
His arms tightened across his chest. “Should we search Hassamir’s estate? If Castiel is here, hiding under their roof would be the perfect cover—explains why Marzius’s search yielded nothing.”
Alarik countered, “Ordering a search without proof could backfire. Hassamir would accuse us of overreach, and the court would see it as a power play.”
Reiya gave a slow nod. “And if we move too soon, we risk driving Castiel deeper into the shadows instead of drawing him into the open.”
Kaelen let out a breath, his jaw tight. “Three days until the ball.” His gaze caught hers, sharp and steady. “We need to be ready.”
Her pulse stirred, a faint shiver coursing through her. The masquerade wouldn’t be merely a glittering show of wealth and power.
It would be the night everything unravelled—where masks would fall, and truths long buried would rise at last into the light.