14. Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fourteen
Zalen
T he five days I had promised Maera turned into seven, and I was itching to see her again. I hated every moment we were forced to be apart, but with the death of the King, things changed.
I had met with the Elders, as well as Sarn, on several occasions regarding who was suspected in the King’s murder. The only leads we had were several trespassers from Aedum who were caught and killed. The theory remained that he was killed by someone from another Kingdom, and Aedum was the likely perpetrator—but nothing was certain. Our centuries-long feud was assumed as the motivator.
Thane and I had spent the last week making all the necessary arrangements. Makkor’s funeral was planned for tonight at dusk which left me several hours to race back to the cottage in hopes that Maera would be there.
I had so much to tell her, but I honestly didn’t know how she would react when she found out I’d be King of Damanthus so soon. She understood what it meant.
Being heirs to our respective Kingdoms, Maera and I connected in a way we couldn’t with anyone else. We each understood the hardships and pressure the other had to endure. I hated to admit it at first, but it was nice for someone to know what it was like and how cruel of a life it was. And it didn’t hurt that she was incredibly smart and adorably quirky, which had captured my attention from the beginning.
Pushing through the illusory barrier, I immediately knew she wasn’t there. With disappointment rising in my chest, I dismounted my horse and went inside.
Nothing was particularly out of place but I could tell from a few moved items that she had been here. For quite a bit of time, too. She had tidied up the living space and small kitchen.
She waited for me…but I never showed.
It angered me to let down the one person I cared for in this godforsaken world. I wasn’t a man who broke his word. And once I took my place on the throne, it would be even harder, if not impossible, to see her again.
The side of my mouth curved up.
I wouldn’t have that.
I made my way into the bedroom. Floating just inside the door was a tala thread—like a small lightning bolt suspended in time. My eyebrows raised.
Conjuring a tala thread was something that would have been difficult for Maera, seeing as her specialties were herbs and potions—as with most witches—while sorcerers had an affinity for casting. But she was bright, and perhaps she had found some sort of brew that allowed her to do so.
A tala thread was a way for a message to be left by someone, capturing their voice for someone specific to hear. While it was meant to only be heard by the person of your choosing, there were some powerful sorcerers who were able to access any of them if they chose to—myself included. It was risky for her to leave this here.
But I didn’t have to worry about that now. No one had discovered this place.
I ran a finger down the length of the thread. Recognizing my touch, it activated, releasing Maera’s voice. Just hearing that sweet sound settled something inside me, my soul—a peace I couldn’t find anywhere else. I watched the tala thread as it glowed its light blue sheen, pulsing with her words.
“Minn astir,” her voice greeted.
My love.
“Meet me at our old place on the night of the Raven migration, at the darkest hour. I can’t risk coming here anymore. Something has happened and…” she paused.
What? What is it? I wanted to ask. The Raven migration was tonight.
“…my father fears for my safety. He’s making me take a tracing potion tonight.” She sniffled, and my fists clenched. “He wants to secure my position as heir. My mother agreed and suggested a suitor…” her voice broke. “They’ve promised me to the captain of the royal guard. They think it will guarantee my safety from whatever it is they’re scared of.”
That bastard wants to control her—keep her under his watchful eye and marry her off to some low-life. And I questioned why he was in such a hurry…
“I’m sorry, minn astir.”
With nothing more, the tala thread flickered before vanishing. I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. This made things even more complicated, hindering my plans.
No matter. I would just have to move up the timeline even more.
Maera was something akin to a forbidden fruit, which only made me want her more. Regardless of our Kingdoms’ rivalry, we couldn’t stay away from each other. She was now promised to marry someone chosen from her Kingdom. Heiress to the throne, she would one day become Queen of Aedum. And a Queen needed a King, according to the fucked up old laws.
Just as I was heir to Damanthus, I was intended to be King and married to a suitable woman before I took the throne upon my father’s death—not that I found that manipulative woman suitable by any means. Jarna—my betrothed—may have been chosen for me by my father, but he was dead now, and I would choose whom I wanted.
And I wanted Maera.
I didn’t care that our Kingdoms had warred for centuries. The Aedum heiress had my heart.
Three years ago, Maera went traipsing through the forest having some sort of breakdown, and stumbled across the border into my Kingdom. It was my job as a Vord to hunt down trespassers and send back their heads. But when I saw her…I couldn’t. Even knowing I should have, even recognizing her as the Aedum heir, something stopped me.
She was crying and I didn’t know why at the time—only found out later it had to do with her mother putting unrealistic expectations for her as the future Queen, driving her further into her obedience. Servitude. She was nothing more than a slave to their personal agenda.
I had watched her from afar, hiding within the forest while she gathered plants and herbs. She went there almost daily, and so did I. I was fascinated by her, but I didn’t know why.
One day, I tired of watching her from the shadows and stepped into the light. Her bright blue eyes drank me in, and though I thought she would be fearful and run away, she saw right into me—as if she could see my very soul—and didn’t back down.
It was foolish on both of our accounts, but from then on out, our journey together began.
Over the course of months, she would come back to the same remote place and I would always find her. Eventually, it turned into something more than just two heirs venting out our frustrations to someone who understood. So much more.
After a year, I constructed the cottage for us.
My father—and everyone else—believed I was off hunting, while her father believed she was off gathering rare herbs for potions. We never got more than a few hours a week together if we were lucky. We couldn’t risk any more than that, otherwise we could be discovered.
We’d be killed. And it would have been done publicly and torturously. Not that I would have ever allowed that to happen to her.
I had a plan. One that would ensure we could be together for the rest of our lives. I needed to act quickly before they forced her to marry someone who would become the new King following her father’s death.
But her parents were becoming a bigger issue, threatening to ruin what Maera and I had.
I wouldn’t have that.
“I’m coming, love.”
A knock came at the door to my room just as I was buttoning my formal jacket.
“Come in,” I called.
I faced the long mirror in the corner, giving my attire a once-over and ensuring I looked the part of the perfect heir—black pressed pants tucked into boots, and a dark shirt beneath a vest decorated with adornments and finery. All for a facade. I was far from what the Elders expected for their future King. I was simply playing into the guise they wanted to see.
Thane’s reflection in the mirror came into view behind me. He met my eye. “They’re waiting.”
“Did the Vord gather the information on the captain?”
“They did. The rumors are true,” he confirmed.
Fucking piece of shit. I’m not waiting any longer than I absolutely have to.
I nodded once and spun on my heel. “Everything’s ready?”
He smirked and nodded.
“Let’s not keep them waiting then,” I said with a devilish grin.
The Rhaen River sat at the bottom of the hill at the Castle of Kanth. It was the widest river in Damanthus, coming down from the Kingdom of Innon from the north, and flowing into the Tyrnth Sea. Being so far north in the Kingdom, it was frozen over for the majority of the year. But since winter had only just begun, the river was still flowing gently.
A crowd of spectators had gathered at the bank of the river. From an outsider’s perspective, you would only see citizens of Damanthus coming together to mourn the loss of Makkor and see off his soul. But for those who knew where to look, there was a clear division amongst the people.
I knew where to look and so did Thane.
Under Makkor’s tyrannical rule, he had made many silent enemies. I made that my advantage, hoarding their allegiance until almost the entirety of the Kingdom was behind me. They were my armory.
The crowd parted, and I met the eyes of those who gave a subtle bow of their heads. I glanced at Thane by my side. His nod communicated that all was going according to plan .
I approached the edge of the water where the Elders and Sarn waited by the vessel holding my father’s body, surrounded with trinkets and flowers from the people. Several other boats lined the bank and would be occupied after the King’s pyre was set.
Laying on a bed of straw, Makkor’s sword rested on his chest with his hands clasped around the hilt. He failed to look regal, like a King should be. He was anything but, and now his mangled and deformed body finally reflected his worthless, ugly soul.
The Elders bowed at the waist when I approached, Thane remaining just behind me. I nodded for them to begin.
I couldn’t help but roll my eyes as one of Makkor’s loyal subjects—and my betrothed—Jarna, began to sing with her hands raised to the heavens. Her voice carried across the water in a prayer to God—who had abandoned our realm—to return and take the King’s soul with him. I had refused to interact with Jarna since our arrangement was announced. She and her parents had deceived their way into my father’s good graces to affix her position as future Queen.
Not fucking likely.
After several charitable words from the Elders, it was time to commence the pyre.
About goddamn time.
Night was in full force and I only had a couple more hours until I needed to meet with Maera.
“Zalen,” Oveus addressed, his voice rising over the congregation, “as heir to the Kingdom of Damanthus, it is your honor to send off King Airo’s soul through the flame.”
Oveus held my stare for a moment with a knowing look. He took my hand in his and put our heads together—a cultural gesture of respect—and whispered so no one else could hear, “We don’t get to choose our King, but we can choose true loyalty. ”
He knew… Yet, he did nothing to stop me.
He pulled back and stepped aside, outstretching his hand for me to step toward the table, draped with a white cloth, and fire drum.
Sarn took the honor of pushing the funeral boat into the water, allowing the current to take it down river, with a final deep and solemn bow.
I grabbed the wooden bow and arrow laid out on a table, nocking the arrow. Sarn stood straight and glared at me from the corner of his glistening eye.
“Don’t worry,” I said quietly, so only he could hear as I dipped the oil-covered tip into the drum of fire. “You’ll see him again.”
Sooner than you think.
With the end of the arrow lit, I walked into the water, soaking my formal pants and boots.
With no one in front of me to see, I smiled in exhilaration at finally getting to fulfill something I had dreamt of doing for years. I felt the direction of the wind before aiming the arrow high into the sky.
There was a pause in the world, as if everyone had held their breath for a moment. I released the arrow, watching its trajectory as it hit its target down the river. Catching fire, the vessel carrying Makkor lit up the night.
It’s time.
I spun on my heel, squared my shoulders, and raised my chin. “It gives me great pride to see King Airo leave this world with his most loyal subjects present. In honor and respect for his reign, let us flow down the river with him until the bend so our God can truly witness the virtue we all know he deserves.”
Keeping with tradition, anyone who wished could board the boats and be part of this transcendent moment, but only those who were most loyal to him—and least loyal to me—would join. I stepped forward to guide people to the boats. Only the Elders remained while Sarn, Jarna, and many others climbed into the small ships. They filled quickly, and—just as I had hoped—they hadn’t noticed their few numbers or the fact I wasn’t joining them.
Thane came up to my side. We shared a glance, and he looked back behind him then snapped his fingers. Men emerged from the crowd and pushed the boats into the water. Two of the men stayed beside us, holding three bows and four arrows. Thane handed one to me.
Someone in the crowd snickered, and it caught Sarn’s attention. It was then he realized I wasn’t on any of the boats. He glanced around before he finally saw me on the shore.
Then his eyes widened when he saw Thane, his son, and the two others holding flaming arrows, aimed at the boats that had been doused in oil the night before. They wouldn’t have time to counter the fire with how hot and fast it would burn.
Even from here, I could see Sarn’s face twist in rage.
How he hadn’t seen this coming was beyond me. Sarn was just as vile as the King, corrupt to his core with greed of power, and it reflected in how he treated his son. He had once even plotted Thane’s murder, but failed when Thane’s mother protected him. Sarn then killed her out of sheer spite.
“Burn, you bastard,” Thane said, locking eyes with his father and pulling back the string.
We released the arrows all at once, and when they struck, the screaming started. I had originally planned to stick around and watch them be consumed, but time was of the essence. I spun around and handed my bow to Thane, who wouldn’t take his eyes off his father with a pleased grin.
“You wanted revenge,” I roared to those before me over the screams from the water. “You wanted a new reign,” I glanced at the Elders who, except for Oveus, had a look of horror on their faces. “Now, you have one.”
“King Zalen!” someone shouted with a raised fist.
“King Zalen!” the crowd echoed.
They began to cheer and I turned to face the Elders.
“But I can’t be King without a wife, can I?” I asked with a cold stare.
Being married was a requirement in order to take the throne—at least until there was an heir—and I just burned my betrothed alive.
Enora, one of the Elders, swallowed before she spoke, “In accordance with the old laws, yes. Otherwise, the next in line will assume the throne.”
“Then I better find myself one,” I said with a sinister grin. “Thane!”
Thane stepped up next to me.
“There’s been a change of plans,” I said, as if the revelation had just come to me.
Thane raised his eyebrows. Not even he knew my plan.
My blood began to race in anticipation. “We’re going to Aedum.”