Chapter 2
two
The castle walls brought no comfort or protection.
If anything, they put me further on edge as we walked through the long entrance hall.
Deldren’s flags had already been hung, but the paintings remained where they were to cover the peeling paint.
The high ceilings held the sound of our heels clicking as Thelena avoided the Queen’s wing and instead went toward the servant's wing until we found ourselves in my room.
The Queen had a wing, the King had a wing, even Deldren had a wing, but I had a room, and I was glad for it.
Thelena didn’t stop to gape at my wounds, instead hurrying across the room to retrieve rags, patting my cheeks and spine painfully. I didn’t realize until she stripped me of the bloodied clothes that I shook.
Her probing hurt, but the silence was excruciating.
“How did you find me?”
She patted balms and powders against my split skin, only slowing when I winced. They staunched the bleeding and held my flesh together, but did nothing for the pain. “Deldren sent me for you.”
My heart thundered. My brother, my beloved brother.
They’d torn us apart as soon as I conceded the throne to him, nearly a decade to the day.
My father had said, ‘women cannot provide the thrones magic,’ and after seeing how it tore him to shreds, I didn’t fight him.
Not long after that, he’d taken to his bedchambers from the way it stole his life.
Now he was a shell of a person who hid from his people.
That was what the crown did.
The thought slickened my bloodstained palms.
“How’s he doing? Can I go see him?” I asked, my mind wandering to all those nights we’d play together, and when I’d sit him on my lap and sing.
And sing.
And sing.
I’d sing to him of Ovatar and how he saved our people from the Ifrei.
I’d sing to him our brutal liturgies, and the memorized prayers that promised bloodshed.
I’d hold him until he laughed and giggled.
And looking back, those were still my fondest memories.
I’d hardly seen him since he’d begun preparing for the throne.
But we found a way. We’d sneak letters via the servants, or he’d drop them down a chute in the bell tower.
In Ilyatria, the world was always shifting, ever-changing, but I knew three things for certain that never would.
I knew my heart beat.
I knew my lungs breathed.
And I knew I loved Deldren.
I would do anything for him. Anything.
Except take the throne.
I tried to pull my mind from what would happen to him. About how he’d feel when the coronation stole his mind and soul. And how I wouldn’t take that for him.
Coward.
My gaze fell to my tired boots and the adjacent cracked mortar. They matched my filthy soul.
She stalled, forcing me into a new gown, tightening it like a noose. “He wasn’t well.”
My heart ticked up a beat. “What do you mean he wasn’t well?”
I crept toward the door, but Thelena stopped me with a firm hand. “He had a bit of a cough, and I found him in bed.” Thelena ran across the room to grab a spare cloak, draping it around my shoulders and tugging up the hood to hide my bloodied face.
I wrenched toward the threshold, but she wouldn’t release me. “I need to see him!”
“They’re preparing him for the coronation. You’re not allowed near him, and you know as much.”
“Then why did he send for me?” I demanded.
Her hands were restless, smoothing my hair, my cloak, everything she could to hide my dewy, torn skin. “He said you’ve been ignoring the queen’s demands, and asked me to give you this.”
She pulled a cream-colored letter with a crimson seal from the adjoining table. It didn’t look like it was from him. He’d never bothered to stamp his letters for me or seal them. Half the time, he scrawled them on folded shreds of parchment.
But when I broke the seal and tore open the letter, I found my answer in the Queen’s formal, swooping script.
Lorelana, it is imperative you take the throne. Deldren may not sit on it. Come to my wing at once so that we may discuss your coronation.
My heart drummed a dirge, and my fingers vibrated. I didn’t think, I merely tore the letter to shreds.
I wasn’t prepared for the throne. I hadn’t spent my life learning how to use and weave the magic it required. I didn’t know how to rule and couldn’t protect our kingdom. I couldn’t take the throne.
I wouldn’t take the throne.
The visceral image of my father’s annual gift to the crown flashed in my mind, with its visceral, bloody image. The pikes passing through his flesh. He didn’t scream anymore. I shuddered.
“What did it say?” asked Thelena.
“Nothing. I just need to be more present in the castle. A small chiding, nothing more,” I lied, considering penning him an apology. But written words couldn't illustrate the sorrow weighing on my soul. The regret. The knowledge of what I was handing my little brother to.
Thelena nodded before going across the room to the jewelry box, where she picked up a pendant. My stomach curdled. The sigil of Ovatar, but inside the silvery loops was the image of the beast. The demon king of the Ifrei, with sapphire eyes that glowed, even in the candlelight.
“Absolutely not. I won’t wear that.”
“Your father has instructed it, and I think you’ve done enough damage for one day.”
I gritted my teeth and lifted my chin, but said nothing as she fastened it around me. It fell against my breasts where it burned far more than my wounds ever could.
“You’re shaking,” she said, adjusting my cloak once more. The way it fell across my shoulders spread lightning down my spine.
She smoothed my hair once more before urging me to the door. I took the easy exit gladly and jumped toward the hall. With any luck, I’d find Deldren. I needed to know if he was safe. And I needed to see him one last time. After today, nothing would be the same.
So I disregarded the trembling, pain, and my mind screaming at me to stay, and left to find my brother.