18. Eighteen
Once medical cleans my arm, applies a salve that smells suspiciously like Finn”s apothecary shop, and binds my wound, I inform Nyx of our plans to go to Starnborough, so I can dine with his uncle. As expected, Nyx is less than thrilled being dragged to the castle when he thought he”d have the rest of the afternoon to sit around the house, but once I remind him that he can probably go raid the kitchens with Prince Ronan and flirt with the pretty maids there, his mood improves.
When I first met King Soren, part of our agreement was that I would have lunch with him once a month. I didn”t think someone as powerful and busy as him would remember that seemingly insignificant detail. Surprise, surprise. Apparently, King Soren is detail oriented.
Now that I”m sitting at the garden table set for two, I notice his face is marred with worry and he”s not as bubbly like he was when we first met.
After several minutes of silence, I muster the courage to ask, ”What”s wrong?” as I softly blow the steam from my freshly brewed tea.
The deep crease in his forehead irons out and his exhausted gaze finally meets mine.
”My apologies, Shaye. I”m afraid I am not being a very attentive host this afternoon.” He mirrors my body language by sitting straighter in his seat and picking up his cup, which looks tiny in his enormous hand.
I shrug. ”It”s alright. I”m used to entertaining myself.”
His brown eyes soften, and I detect a trace of pity when he stares at me. ”Forgive me. Why don”t you tell me how your training is going.”
”I”m surprised Headmistress Radcliffe and your son haven”t kept you apprised of my status.” I have a sneaky suspicion they”ve been doing just that and when he smiles, the wrinkles crinkling the sides of his eyes confirm my thoughts.
”Oh, they have,” he shamelessly admits. ”Although, I would prefer to hear about your progress from you, my dear.”
”I am making great progress with my magic.” I focus on the scone in front of me, doing my best to compartmentalize my thoughts when my mind strays to Atlas.
”And the Tethering?”
He is very well informed. ”Professor Riggs is under the impression your nephew and I share a magical bond.”
”And you are of the opinion you do not share this bond?” There is a playfulness in his gaze that makes me pause.
”You don”t believe in Tethering, do you?”
”I don”t believe Tethering is what draws Atlas” attention.” His feeble attempt to hide his smirk doesn”t go unnoticed.
”Forgive me, your Majesty, but you”re a shameless snoop.”
He barks out a hearty laugh, throwing his head back in reckless abandon. ”And you, my dear, are a breath of fresh air. No one has ever dared to call me a snoop before.”
”And yet, you do not deny it.” I feel the left corner of my mouth tick upwards as I bring my teacup to my lips and enjoy Soren”s warm laugh rumble across the garden.
”Fine,” he raises his hands in surrender. ”I will leave whatever is happening between you and my nephew alone. Just do me one courtesy.”
”Which would be?”
The sweet smile that stretches across his face lessens and his joy is replaced with caution. ”Don”t hurt him. Atlas may give off the appearance of being cold and unfeeling, but out of the three of them, his heart is the most fragile.”
”I have no intention of hurting him.” And I mean it. I might not know where we stand, but whether I”m upset with him or not, at the end of the day, I care for him deeply.
”Good.” There”s that glorious grin. ”If you do break his heart, I am not sure you would escape Soraya”s wrath.”
The mention of Atlas” fire-wielding mother stills my heart and I nearly drop my cup. Riggs” description of her Transcendent state is what nightmares are made of and I have no intention of incurring such an end.
”Speaking of my sister,” Soren”s voice draws my undivided attention, ”are you prepared to meet her next week?”
”I can”t say that I am.” The words spill out before I have a chance to mull over my response.
”Ahhh,” he teases, ”so you”ve heard about her affinity, have you?” When I nod, feeling my cheeks heat, he waves a dismissive hand in the air. ”Soraya might be capable of unleashing hell, but I assure you, she is one of the kindest and most loving people you will ever meet.”
”If she likes you, I imagine.”
”Even if she doesn”t, my sister knows the consequences for taking a life, with or without magic.” There”s a sadness in his voice that makes me wonder if the rumors are true about Soren assassinating his father to save his sister and best friend from the executioner”s block.
”My apologies,” I place my hand on top of his, drawing his far-off look. ”I”m sure your sister is quite lovely, and I look forward to meeting her.”
His smile doesn”t stretch far, but it”s something, considering the fact I can tell something is bothering him. I would never assume I”m privy to such thoughts, but part of me wishes he”d open up, so I might be able to help him in some way.
”Have you received word from my parents yet?” I ask, hoping to change the subject.
He shakes his head. ”Midori is an eight-to-ten-day journey by ship. We were hoping our messenger would have returned with a response by now but...”
”Has something happened?” My heart thrums in my chest.
”We fear our messenger wasn”t allowed to leave Midori.”
”What you mean to say is,” I start off slowly, not liking the thoughts formulating my head, ”you believe your messenger convoy is dead.”
”Yes,” he says with a straight face, not reacting to the way I flinch. ”In a show of good faith, we didn”t send any fire wielders into the city with the messenger. He was escorted by dozens of our soldiers, and even though one of our warriors is worth ten Midorian ones, we sent them into the lion”s den with no way out. I hope I”m wrong. I hope their trip was delayed, or that your parents were late in drafting a response, but going by the sick feeling in my gut, I fear I sent Tronovians to die.”
I can hear the pain in his voice, the guilt, and it weighs heavily on me, because he didn”t send Tronovians to their deaths. I did. Me being here is a threat to every Tronovian. I should have known my parents wouldn”t believe I came here of my own free will. Even though Vesper knows the truth that I chose to journey to Tronovia with the Harland brothers, I have a sneaky suspicion she kept that bit of information to herself, hiding it from Bastian as well. It wouldn”t benefit her in any way to vouch for me. Her mission is to retrieve me by whatever means necessary and after I charred her arm on the docks in Kongar, I”m sure she won”t rest until she gets her hands on me.
”We will give it another week or so before we send another convoy – ”
”No,” I interrupt him, drawing his confused gaze.
”What?”
”Don”t send another convoy. Do not send Tronovians to Midori on my behalf.”
”Shaye – ”
”Please,” I beg, my bottom lip trembles. ”Please do not send your men and women to die. My parents won”t accept the truth that I want to be here, and Bastian certainly won”t rest until I”m returned to Midori. Neither party will negotiate nor take your letters as factual, so, please, don”t send another convoy. If I need to, I”ll go myself – ”
”You will do nothing of the kind,” his voice is more forceful than I”m used to, and it causes me to shut my mouth. ”Listen to me, Ilaria Shaye Kitarni,” he leans forward, rooting his elbows to the table. ”If you are to be queen one day, you need to understand that people, whether you want them to or not, will die on your behalf. That is the way of kings. Some kingdoms will treat you with respect, others will not. Will you bear the guilt of your people dying? Yes. Will you send more into battle to protect your kingdom as a whole? Yes. It”s not fair, and it”s certainly not enjoyable, but one thing you must never do, is shrink in the face of adversity. You must never dull your shine for the acceptance of others.”
”Is that why you can barely look me in the eye?” I ask, and he recoils.
”What do you mean?”
”You might be sitting across the table from me, but your mind is far from here. Does it have to do with the fact you can”t seem to hold my gaze for long? Do you blame me for the deaths of your people?”
”My dear, I do not blame you for – ”
”The truth,” I interrupt, and watch as his shoulders dip.
A deep, anguished sigh escapes his lips. Silently, he rubs his fingers across the crinkle marring his forehead. ”Shaye, I do not blame you. Their deaths belong to your parents, namely your father and possibly Bastian, but not you. The reason I have not been myself is because my wife has been sick for quite some time. She”s always had a weaker disposition, but this is something else.”
Shame seeps through my entire body. The audacity of believing I was the source of his worry –
”I”m so sorry,” I manage to croak out. ”I had no idea.”
”Not many people know,” he explains quickly. ”Our marriage was arranged, you know.”
”By your father?”
He shakes his head with a smile. ”Me.”
”You?” I furrow my brow. ”Forgive me, but how can you arrange your own marriage? Unless you secretly courted her – ”
He waves a hand in the air, cutting me off. ”No, no, it was nothing like that. My father wanted me to marry the daughter of one of the wealthiest Tronovians on his small council. I thought it would be a better show of unity if I married a commoner. Someone without a title, no rank, no fortune. Just an average Tronovian citizen to show our people that no matter their economic status, color of their skin, or ancestral background, that we all matter. We are all equals.”
”From what I”ve heard of your father, I don”t imagine he took too kindly to that notion.”
”He did not.” He chuckles softly, but I can sense the painful wound he still nurses. ”After he died,” he swallows, ”I went through with my plan. I had all eligible women throughout the kingdom come to Starnborough and I had one conversation with each of them.”
”And that”s how you determined who you would marry?” I ask in bewilderment. ”What could one conversation tell you about someone”s character?”
”I asked them all one very important question.”
”Which was?”
”What do you believe to be the crown”s most egregious error?” He shrugs with a smile. ”A tricky question to be sure. All but one told me that the crown never makes mistakes.”
”Your wife?”
”Esme was the only one who was honest with me.” Tilting his head to the side, he searches my features before saying, ”I think that”s why I took to you so quickly. You stood up to me. You were honest with me and had no problem calling me out. Esme is the same way. She doesn”t treat me any differently than she would you or a school teacher or fisherman. She truly sees everyone as equals and that”s when I knew I could be happy with her.”
”Wow,” I whisper, taking a long sip of my lukewarm tea. ”I”ve never heard a story like that.”
”I dare say, you might not ever again. I was unconventional when it came to marriage, but it”s worked for me.”
The thought hits me again that he said his wife was ill. ”How long does she have?”
His bloodshot eyes meet mine as a single tear slips down his cheek. ”She may have until the end of the year, if she”s lucky.”
”Your Majesty.” A soldier bows before coming through the door onto the patio and hands King Soren a rolled-up missive. The king”s eyes scan each word at a rapid pace before he re-rolls it and slips it in his jacket pocket.
”You will have to excuse me,” he stands, and I hop to my feet. ”I am afraid I have an emergency council meeting. I look forward to seeing you in a few weeks at my sister”s house.”
I bow my head in respect. ”Of course, I look forward to it.”
With one last warm smile, King Soren stomps toward the door but when his boots stop, I turn to look at him. ”If I may offer you unsolicited advice, Shaye, be careful who you attach yourself to in matrimony. The right partner will elevate you. The wrong one will derail you.”
”And how do I know which partner is the right one?”
”The one who challenges you and keeps you honest is the one who will never abandon you through life”s highs and lows.” He smirks, tilting his head slightly to the left. ”But I suspect you already know that, my dear.”
And with that, he”s off, leaving me with my thoughts.