Chapter 13 #2
“I followed the sound to the king’s private chambers. He was—” he paused, searching for the words that wouldn’t taint the air, “forcing himself on one of the women who worked in his household. Her cries… they still ring in my ears at night, haunting me with what I couldn’t prevent.”
Theo shook his head in disbelief, face paling.
“I barged in, knowing full well what I would find, but I feigned ignorance. Acted as though I thought he was the one in trouble. I thought I could stop it. I thought me being there would be enough.”
His voice cracked. “But I was too late.”
My hand flew to my chest.
“He’d killed her.”
The silence in the room was deafening, broken only by our shallow breathing.
Tavrik’s eyes had gone glassy, unfocused. “He stood over her body, his hands still wrapped around her neck. Her eyes—” he exhaled shakily. “They were lifeless. Staring at me. Through me. As if asking why I hadn’t come sooner.”
“He stepped over her like she was nothing and ordered me to clean up his mess.” A bitter laugh escaped him. “I just stood there, staring at him.”
His gaze lifted to mine, eyes clearing.
“When I joined the Guard, I swore an oath. Not just to protect him, but to protect his realm and its people. And yet, I was expected to serve a monster who preyed on those he should have sheltered.”
“So, I ran. He ordered the guards to find me and kill me. And my brothers—the men I trained with, fought alongside for years… they didn’t hesitate. They didn’t even question why.”
I couldn’t stop myself. I leapt toward him, nearly stumbling in my haste, and wrapped my arms around him. I pressed my face against the solid wall of his chest, holding him with every ounce of strength I possessed.
He remained rigid, every muscle locked in place. Then with a hard exhale that ruffled my hair, he encircled his arms around me and crushed me against him. I pulled back just enough to look at him, my hands gripping his forearms.
“You did the right thing, Tavrik,” I said. “You are braver and more loyal than anyone I’ve ever known.”
Theo cleared his throat loudly, an exaggerated sound that broke the tension.
I rolled my eyes, turning to him with a half-smile. “You’re brave too, Theo.”
His eyes danced renewed mischief. “See? Was that so difficult?”
Three soft knocks interrupted the moment.
Our heads swivelling toward the sound.
Theo shot to his feet and cracked the door open. Mira peeked inside, wisps of her hair framing her face and cheeks already dusted with pink.
“I was looking for you, Elira,” she said, fidgeting with the edge of her sleeve. “I’m sorry I wasn’t able to help you get ready. I was called away. I was wondering if you’d like to go for a walk outside.”
Theo melted into the doorframe, one arm braced against the wood as he invaded her space with a wicked grin.
Her cheeks flamed brighter.
“We’d love to join you,” he purred.
I stood, brushing non-existent dust from my clothes. “I’d love some fresh air,” I said, stepping between them. “And I’m sure they’d like to join us as well, if that’s alright with you?”
Mira nodded with enthusiasm that bordered on frantic, eyes still fixed on Theo.
Tavrik and I exchanged knowing glances as we filed through the doorway. Mira and Theo were walking so close their arms brushed together with each step. Their whispered conversation was punctuated by Mira’s soft laughter, which seemed to make Theo stand a little taller.
The grounds stretched vast before us, golden light cutting through the trees in sharp beams. Theo had already slung an arm around Mira’s waist, his charm working overtime as we pushed deeper into the lands.
We steered clear of the market path, my feet carrying me toward the place where I’d felt that first pulse—the stone calling to something buried in my chest.
As Tavrik and I wandered further, homes emerged from the landscape, each one carved straight into the earth itself.
Stone and nature twisted together until it was unclear where one ended and the other began.
Vines wrapped around archways. Wildflowers burst in messy splashes of colour that had no business being so perfect.
I closed my eyes, emptying my mind.
A pulse.
Faint, but stronger than before.
I heard it. It pulled at something deep in my bones. I glanced back at Mira and Theo, now just distant shapes lost in their own world, before catching Tavrik’s eyes. The question passed between us without words.
Should we go further?
He nodded.
With each step, the stone’s pull became clearer. More insistent. The loud hum in my veins driving me forward like there were invisible hands pushing at my back.
We crossed into dense forest where ancient trees swallowed the sun whole, casting everything in deep shadow. Leaves crunched beneath our feet, the smell of damp moss saturating our clothes.
We’d barely made it a dozen steps when we both froze.
Voices.
Low murmurs drifted through the trees—too far to make out words, but unmistakable. We moved quietly, stepping carefully between roots and ducking under branches until we could see them.
Dalkhan.
My heart pounded so violently, I feared he might hear it. He stood in the centre of what looked like ceremonial grounds—tall columns rising from rough stone floors, their surfaces ancient and worn. Men in dark robes gathered around him, their heads bent together.
I shot a panicked look at Tavrik, and as one, we melted back into the shadows, our feet finding silent spots between the undergrowth.
Only when we were a safe distance away did I dare to speak.
“What do you think that was?” I asked.
Tavrik ran a hand through his hair, his brows pulling tight. “A meeting most likely, but I couldn’t make out anything they were saying.”
I wrapped my arms around myself.
Then it hit me.
Zaheera’s vision: The robed men. The Veil cracking. Ancient words tearing reality to shreds.
It had to be them.
We split up, each heading to our own rooms. The silence that followed felt like it was crushing my skull.
It wouldn’t be long before Mira returned. Before I’d have to face another night in Dalkhan’s presence. A fresh wave of unease rolled through me. I pressed my palms against my face, dragging them down slowly. Trying to scrape away the mess of emotions underneath.
After what had happened between us—after the way he had touched me, claimed me. After I had left him.
How was I supposed to face him?
“It doesn’t matter,” I whispered to the empty room. “This is the right thing to do. It has to be.”
Keeping him at arm’s length would make sure no feelings—no stupid, dangerous emotions—got in the way when the time came to end his life.
I still didn’t know how I was going to do it.
It didn’t matter. There was only one way that this could end.
In death.
Mira’s voice was a distant hum as she fussed over me, adjusting the drape of my attire and smoothing the fabric over my shoulders. I stared blankly at my reflection, hardly recognising the hollow-eyed stranger.
I didn’t want to go.
I didn’t want to see him. I didn’t want to pretend that I was fine. That I wasn’t unravelling from the inside out. Mira must’ve sensed it because she stilled. In the mirror, her face was apologetic.
“Your attendance is not negotiable.”
As soon as the words left her lips, I was overcome with dread. I nodded, sharp and stiff.
She gave my back a small, reassuring pat before stepping away, but the weight in my chest only grew heavier.
The door swung open, and Theo and Tavrik strolled in as if they had all the time in the world. Jasila was right behind them, shoving Theo aside with a roll of her eyes. He let out an exaggerated ‘oof” but still flashed me a grin. Despite everything, I couldn’t help but smile.
Jasila’s eyes raked over me, taking in every detail.
Did she know? Did she somehow sense what had happened between Dalkhan and I?
If she did, she didn’t mention it. She simply jerked her chin toward the door, signalling for us to follow.
We stood at the throne room’s edge, bodies pressed in close on all sides. There was a sea of people around me, yet I felt utterly alone. I couldn’t keep still, pitching from one leg to the other in an endless, anxious dance.
Jasila’s slapped my forearm.
“Stop fidgeting,” she muttered under her breath.
“Sorry,” I hissed before turning away just enough to roll my eyes.
BOOM!
The first pound of the drum rattled through me, leaving me suspended in stillness.
Dalkhan walked in, and everything tilted.
His burning, pitiless eyes were locked straight ahead. The beautiful lines of his face had twisted into something feral, a snarl etched deep enough to gouge the light from his features.
He didn’t want to be here either.
We bowed our heads as he neared, my spine curving reluctantly and hair falling forward. Through the strands, I dared to look up at him.
He didn’t stop. Didn’t even glance at me. But Azmik—beautiful Azmik, who was draped across his shoulders—stretched toward me, his scaled body straining against Dalkhan’s movement. Those glowing eyes locked with mine, filled with something that might have been longing.
My chest caved in.
Dalkhan went straight to his throne and dropped into it. Such a casual, effortless dismissal.
Why did it cut so deep—why did the cold indifference slice into me like a wound torn open?
With a flick of his wrist, everyone scattered, chairs scraping against stone as they found their seats.
I tried focus on my plate, but my eyes darted back to him before I could stop myself.
He sat rigid, his knuckles white from gripping the armrest. His other hand rubbed over his beard in slow strokes, a gesture I’d come to recognise as barely contained fury.
Yet still he wouldn’t look at me.
My jaw tightened, teeth grinding together as I forced myself to stare at my untouched food.
Around me, conversation swelled, the unbearable ring of laughter echoing in my skull. Distant. Hollow.
I hardly moved, pushing the food around, my appetite long gone.