Chapter 33
Iyana
Queen Camilia stared at Iyana. As soon as she had laid eyes on her—the infamous Aztia who had killed Emperor Uther—the queen had paled considerably. Zane cleared his throat, and Iyana bowed again.
“It is a pleasure to meet you, Your Majesty.”
Camilia blinked and inhaled deeply. Halim placed his hand lightly over hers.
“I apologize,” she said. “You are simply the spitting image of my sister. It was rather like seeing a ghost.”
“I understand completely,” Iyana said, meaning it. Seeing two elders of her own people, regardless of if they were royalty, made her long for her own grandmother and simple hut back in Imothia. “I am sorry to hear of her passing.”
“We are actually unsure as to Imogen’s fate, as she ran off with a man when she was probably close to your age. Maybe even slightly younger. We always hoped she would return, but she never did.”
“That’s a beautiful name.”
Camilia smiled broadly for the first time since they’d entered the throne room. “She always hated that name. We only called her Imo.”
And Iyana felt the world crumbling beneath her feet. Swaying, she reached out a hand to steady herself, only to find Emmeric already there, slipping a supportive arm around her. It was the only thing keeping her standing.
“You knew her,” the queen said, her head tilted to the side as she observed Iyana. It wasn’t a question.
“She was my grandmother.” The words exited her in a whisper.
Camilia’s face fell, and she nodded minutely. “Was,” she repeated. “When…how did she…” Her voice trailed off.
Iyana latched onto the still-fresh rage and hurt that had been reopened when she discovered Imo’s true cause of death. It was more familiar and safer than the shock of learning she might still have some living family.
“Altair, the first star that fell, murdered her, Your Majesty. A few moons ago, before the autumn equinox. I’ve only just recently learned, though, that he was the one to kill her. At the time, I thought it had been natural causes.”
Camilia’s eyes, so similar to Imo’s now that Iyana knew to look, flicked down to her left wrist where the ouroboros tattoo of the healers was inked into her skin.
“You are a healer, as she was. Good.” The queen grinned again, but it didn’t quite reach her eyes. “I’m sure Imo loved that.”
“With all due respect, Your Majesty,” Zane interjected, “I would like to discuss with you the matter of my empire and ridding Arinem of the stars.”
“Yes, we will have to discuss our mutual relative at another time, my dear,” Camilia said, falling gracefully back into her role as queen. “I would love to hear from the Aztia how it is the stars have fallen.”
This was the part Iyana hated. It was terrible enough recounting the tale to the Nyr royalty, but having Camilia render judgement against her felt too similar to when Imo would chastise her.
She didn’t know if her heart could take it.
But she squared her shoulders and stood on her own without Emmeric’s assistance, then told them the entire story—including some of the more unsavory and embarrassing details that Iyana herself wished to forget.
“Nyr has promised us the use of their armed forces if you pledge to join the fight as well,” Zane chimed in.
The queen sat silently for so long that Iyana began to fidget. Emmeric nudged her to get her to stand still.
“I will think on it,” Camilia eventually said.
“Your Majesty, I—” Zane began, but stopped when the queen raised her hand. The emperor’s lips pursed, and Iyana knew it had to be aggravating to still be treated as a prince underneath their heel instead of the full-fledged leader he was.
“It is no small thing to go to war. These are my people’s lives we are discussing, and I do not take that lightly. Give me some time. I will discuss it with my advisors and inform you of my decision.”
Iyana took a small step forward. “If I might interrupt, Your Majesty, I will say that Zane is an exceptional leader who only wants the best for not only his own empire, but for the entire continent. The stars may not be in Istoria yet, but they will be. For my part, I initially did not want to leave Imothia, and, if given the chance, I would return there in a heartbeat. But for the sake of the world, I will fight. We simply cannot do it alone.”
A warm hand slipped into hers, intertwining their fingers.
Well said, Mouse, came a warm voice in her head.
This part of their connection no longer frightened her—not since she had been able to use it to stay Emmeric’s hand at the inn, when before he would have sensed her emotions and come running.
But now, with this new way of communication, he was more willing to let her out of his sight and trust her judgement.
It actually was more freeing than she thought it would be, and Iyana didn’t feel trapped at all.
They still hadn’t discussed what they had done at the inn that night, and it hadn’t happened again.
Iyana thought about it often though, and every time she did, she heard Emmeric’s internal chuckle.
Her response was usually to frown and show him a rude gesture, which would only make him laugh harder.
“As I said,” Queen Camilia went on, “I will think on it. In the meantime, you are all welcome to stay in the palace and you are free to come and go as you wish. My attendant will show you to the guest quarters.”
A petite woman appeared seemingly out of nowhere, bowed, and asked them to follow her. When they had almost reached the doors, Iyana heard her name called out. She turned back towards the queen.
“I want to have dinner with you this evening to discuss things. I’ll send someone to collect you.”
“Thank you, I would like that.” Iyana inclined her head, then followed the rest of her family through the corridors, making sure to stay far away from those open windows. The thought of falling through one of those made her stomach churn.
The woman showed them all where their individual rooms were, but they convened together in Iyana’s space to discuss everything that had just transpired.
The room itself was small but well-appointed, with a large four-poster bed, two couches, a currently unlit hearth, and an attached bathing room.
All the furniture was swathed in a rich red fabric with golden accents.
A bowl of incense was burning, filling the room with a thick, velvety aroma that reminded Iyana so much of home.
Sitting on one of the plush couches, she realized this was the most comfortable and at ease she’d been since leaving Imothia.
“So your grandmother was the queen’s sister, huh?” Talon asked, flopping down on the other couch. Zane sat next to him much more gracefully. “Crazy small world.”
“You realize what this means, right?” Zane asked.
“I have some living family?” Iyana said.
Emmeric sat next to her, and she leaned her head against his shoulder. He slid his arm around her waist, tucking her in tight. It was effortless, and Iyana hadn’t even realized what she’d done until Talon raised a brow at her.
Zane leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “What do you know about the Istorian royalty?” he asked her.
“Honestly, not much. Imothia was always so independent I never even knew Camilia’s name until today.”
“Istora is traditionally run by women, while men take on supportive roles.”
Iyana rolled her eyes; everyone knew that.
“When the queen dies or steps down, the crown goes to the next oldest woman—sometimes it’s a sister, sometimes a daughter or niece, and occasionally even a cousin.”
“So?” Iyana said.
“So,” Zane responded, his gaze boring into her, “I think you’re the oldest living female within the royal family.”
A buzzing began in her brain, and all Iyana could do was stare into Zane’s emerald gaze.
That couldn’t be right. Maybe her Imo and Camilia’s Imo were different people, and she wasn’t related to them at all.
Talon’s mouth was moving, but she couldn’t hear what he was saying above the sound of a thousand cicadas between her ears.
Mouse?
No, Zane had to be wrong. There had to be other women within the Vinta family who were more closely related to the queen.
The room was suddenly ten times smaller than it had been only minutes before—the walls closing in on her.
Iyana was going to be suffocated by red and gold brocade, and she couldn’t breathe.
Emerald eyes were replaced by strikingly blue ones. Emmeric had slipped to his knees on the floor before her and now held her face in his hands.
Breathe, Iyana.
Her chest was in a vice-like grip, her ribs feeling as if they were about to crack while her heart floundered beneath them, racing.
Breaths were coming fast and shallow; her face began to tingle.
A dim recess of her brain logically realized she was having a panic attack, but to Iyana, it was exactly the same as when Altair had stolen her magic. It felt like she was dying.
Breathe. The voice inside her head was soothing, wrapped in a warm embrace. In.
Iyana drew in a shuddering breath.
Good. Now out. She focused solely on the man in front of her and his comforting presence. Iyana released the air out of her lungs. Good girl. In again, deeper this time.
Emmeric’s emotions flooded her chest—pride, worry, a tinge of confusion.
But above all else, love. It was so strong it almost stopped Iyana’s breathing again.
But he was still coaching her through her breaths—giving her encouragement and praise—until finally the tingling faded.
Her chest loosened and her heart slowed, and the sound returned to the room.
At least, she thought it did. Everyone was sitting, silently staring at her.
But the cicadas had gone, so Iyana took that as a good sign.
With a small smile, Emmeric pulled her face down and placed a kiss on her forehead.
“Look, go to that dinner tonight with the queen and discuss. You’re right—it could be a different Imo or there’s someone else next in line for the throne.” Of course, he’d heard Iyana think that through her panic. “We’ll get all the information, then we’ll make a plan. Okay?”
“Okay,” she whispered. Iyana fiddled with the front of Emmeric’s shirt. “Will you go with me to dinner? I don’t know if I can face them on my own.”
“Of course, Mouse. I’ll go wherever you want me to.”
Iyana took another deep breath, soaking in the steadiness of Emmeric’s gaze, then straightened out of his hold.
The others had gone, and she hadn’t even realized it, but she was quietly grateful for the privacy they had afforded her.
Looking towards the bathing room, Iyana caught a whiff of herself and wrinkled her nose.
“Ugh. I need a bath. Or two.”
Emmeric stood until he was towering over her. A light finger underneath her chin tilted her head up.
“I’ll be across the hall taking my own bath. Just make sure you test the water before you climb in, yeah?”
Iyana frowned and stuck out her tongue at him.
Emmeric chuckled. He had said it in a teasing tone, but she sensed the undercurrent of concern that he was trying to hide from her.
She didn’t want a repeat of the last bath she’d drawn herself, and she’d already reached her anxiety quota for the day, so she most definitely would ensure the water was scalding beforehand.
Emmeric’s finger slipped out from under her chin, and Iyana watched him walk out of the room, suddenly wishing he would have stayed.