Chapter 4
Four
Bastian
Avoiding main roads and ports has made finding our way back home to Midori difficult.
Despite the harsh conditions the further south we traveled, it wasn't the heat or lack of shelter that bothered me.
It was the fact every time I closed my eyes, I saw Shaye's face and couldn't handle the hatred and fear she bore for me.
Betrayal is an understatement. My entire world shattered the moment she used her magic against me. The idea she no longer loves me – that she never cared for me to begin with – haunts me. She's the only woman I've ever loved. I thought we were happy together. I hate that I was wrong.
She didn't wait for me. She did not want me. She tossed me aside as if we were nothing more than strangers when we've spent a lifetime dreaming together.
Vesper warned me she looked different – that she wasn't the girl I grew up with. I didn't want to believe her but now I'm the fool on the run.
Midori is within sight. It's taken two weeks of journeying through the frostbitten mountains of Elowen and the treacherous terrain of Durne to reach familiar sandy dunes.
When I used to return home, I felt a sense of warmth flood me.
I would count down the minutes until I'd see Shaye's smiling face.
Now, I return empty-handed. I return a failure.
I return without my betrothed. And I know my father will have plenty to say on that matter.
Vesper brushes up next to me, staring at the Golden Palace in the near distance. "What are your orders?"
I sense the question she refuses to ask.
What do I want her to do if my father punishes me for my failure?
For years her orders have always remained to stand down but this time anxiety bubbles in my gut.
The scars on my back have been reopened so many times I've lost count.
My heart races at the thought of him ordering his personal guards to shackle me – my arms stretched wide, and my knees pinned to the floor – as my father whips me himself.
No one else is permitted to issue me punishment.
My father says I'm his burden to bear, his lesser to be corrected.
I used to stress over Shaye and I's wedding night because she would finally see the scars I have fought for the last decade to hide. I suppose I don't need to worry about that anymore. She's made her choice.
"Commander?" Vesper hisses, bringing me to the present moment.
Sweat beads along my hairline, from the desert heat or the crippling fear of what awaits me in the city, I'm not entirely certain.
I swallow hard, wiping the back of my dirt-riddled hand against my dusty forehead. "We report to the king and queen."
"And what of your father?"
Vesper despises him. More than I do, I dare say.
She's been my friend most of my life and she's begged countless times for me to unleash her wrath upon him.
She's seen the aftermath of my whippings and has been the one responsible to clean and bandage me when my father denies medics from aiding me.
I know what wickedness she is capable of but at the end of the day, she's the only one who has stood by my side and not left when it would have been easier to.
I slide my gaze to meet her red-rimmed eyes.
There's longing in them. Not for me. But to wear my father's skin knowing he would never be able to harm me again.
I'd be lying if I said I wasn't tempted by her offer to consume his soul.
If she did, I wouldn't be able to see her the same way.
I'd only be reminded of him. I've grown used to her in her current body and would prefer she remain that way.
I tuck loose strands of her hair behind her ear. Before today that tender motion would have reaped her dagger pinned to my throat, but she must pity me enough to permit it.
"I will deal with him."
She furrows her brow, her almond eyes narrowing. "One day, you will grant me the pleasure of destroying him. I just hope it's not too late."
"What is that supposed to mean?" I call over my shoulder when she stomps away.
"He'll kill you, Bastian," she stops, turning ever so slightly to glance at me. "You know it. I know it. And I suspect, he knows it too."
Vesper doesn't grant me the opportunity to respond. She does what she does best. She musters the crew to pack up our make-shift camp and finish the last leg of our journey.
The remaining trek is brutal. Our bodies are weary, and my heart is broken, but I have this horrific feeling swelling in my gut that something bad awaits me.
Frown lines mar my face as my dusty troop spears down the gleaming white halls of the Golden Palace.
My father sent word as soon as we entered the city gates we were to appear before him and the king and queen to report.
All I want is to shower and rid my skin of the grainy sand sticking to my sweat-stained body.
I should have known my father wouldn't have permitted me or my crew to rest after our journey. It's never been his style.
I was supposed to arrive with princess in hand.
I've once again failed. My father will surely remind me of my many disappointments.
The last time I failed him, he whipped me until I passed out and denied medics from aiding me afterwards.
I was to bear my punishment in full, pain and all.
He's barbaric and cruel, and one day he will pay for his atrocities.
We're so close to putting an end to the Midorian rulers and my father. Another beating or two won't matter.
It's taken us years to reforge the portal, but the last message I received from the team in the middle of the desert, was all the pieces were put back together.
There are cracks since it will never be whole, but it's erected.
All we need now is Enver Sol's blood. Or rather, Shaye's blood.
There's no way she isn't the Celestial's heir.
Vesper is sure of it. No one except an heir would have light magic like hers.
She was under my nose the entire time.
I purge Shaye's smile from my mind, and hard set determination takes her place.
She will be mine again in due time and we will put all this ugliness behind us.
Despite Vesper's unsolicited opinion on the matter, I know she's been brainwashed by her captors, lulled by their wicked spells.
I will free her from them. I will rescue her and with Drogon as our ally, we will rule all six kingdoms of Dalerin as king and queen.
There will be no more strife, no more wars, no more animosity and fickle alliances.
All will hail under one banner, and we will finally have peace across the continent.
When the double doors leading to the throne room open, my heart spears up to my throat. My anxiety is confirmed. Something bad is going to happen.
The king and queen are seated on their thrones.
Keres' gaze darts past me, searching for her daughter.
Realization settles across her features, and a lone tear slips down her cheek.
She doesn't appear to have slept a wink since I departed and with her daughter no closer to being returned, I doubt rest will find her anytime soon.
The dark bags beneath her eyes tell the sorrowful tale of a mother grieving for her missing daughter.
King Garren, on the other hand, is hardened by Shaye's noticeable absence, and stares down upon me as if I've committed treason.
I can deal with his anger. It's the judgmental glare of my father standing just to the right of the king that shakes me to my core.
Retribution for returning empty-handed will be swift and torturous.
I can decipher that much by the tension in his broad shoulders and the twisted grimace of his lips.
Vesper might be right. Today could be the day my father's wrath is more than I can bear.
I bow before them, my knees trembling. I wish I could say it was from exhaustion, but it's fear. A fear that grips my heart and squeezes so tightly I feel as if I cannot breathe.
I lift my head and latch onto the queen's tearful eyes. "Your Highness – "
"Where is she?" Keres asks, her bottom lip quivering. "Where is my daughter?"
"That is my question as well." My father's voice echoes through the marble-walled chamber like a war-cry on a battlefield. "Where is Princess Ilaria?"
"She…" I clear my throat, feeling my father's ruthless gaze fixed on me. "She refused to come with us."
My father takes a heavy step toward me, his fingers tickling the hilt of the sword swinging at his hip. Suddenly, it's like I'm seven years old again waiting for him to launch a beating that will take me a month to recover from.
"What do you mean the princess refused to go with you?" He growls each word; a familiar angry vein pops on the side of his temple. "Are you not a commander of armies, Bastian? Surely one woman didn't defy you openly."
"I tried but – "
"Tried?" My father scoffs, his face reddening in rage. "Apologies, my King and Queen. I should have gone to Elowen myself. I knew Bastian was incapable."
"Father –"
"How many times have I warned you about calling me that?" He spits and my left eye twitches. "I am your superior officer, and you have failed me for the last time."
Unadulterated fear ricochets in my chest and even though I was prepared to keep Shaye's secret, in a moment of self-preservation, I blurt," "She has magic!" Regret immediately overtakes me. The king and queen pale and it's then I realize they aren't surprised by the revelation. "You knew?"
My father scoffs. "What are you accusing our king and queen of, Bastian? Treason? You know the law of our land. Magic wielders – "
"I can see it on your faces," I interrupt my father, risking the physical repercussions for my interruption. "You know about her magic. You know about her Frost Elf features too, don't you?"