Chapter 9
Chapter Nine
I stare at the map until my eyes burn, as if I can somehow force the red wax markers to rearrange themselves into a pattern that makes sense with the power of my mind.
Over the last five days, we realized we needed more than just our original map of Tirene.
We had to dig through storage to find a map of the entire known world, which I’ve pinned on the wall in front of me.
I’m drowning in reports of bizarre occurrences with no obvious connections.
Aclaris and Kamor on the continent to the south. The Havens and Meridia to the east. Tír Ríoga, Northern Volox, and the Withered Undulations on the continent north of Tirene. And so many around our capital that the paper is completely covered.
The candles in the council chamber have burned low, their flames casting long shadows across my kingdom, my responsibility. I roll another ball of wax between my fingers, letting my magic warm it just enough to become malleable without melting.
The heavy oak door creaks open behind me, and I know who’s entered without looking. The purposeful yet quiet footsteps belong to Sterling. Even with my back to him, my body’s viscerally aware of his presence.
“Find any patterns yet?”
“If by patterns, you mean absolute chaos and no answers, then yes. We have lots of those.” I gesture at the map with wax-sticky fingers. “I’m starting to think the gods are just rolling dice with us.”
I pivot to find him balancing a stack of scrolls, his face partially hidden behind the pile. Even after everything we’ve been through, my heart performs the same ridiculous jump as always.
“Temple attacks here and here.” I point to red markers near our western borders. “Water behaving oddly there.” My finger traces the coastal regions. “And reports of strange star patterns visible only from this mountain pass.” I tap a spot in the northeastern reaches of Tirene.
Sterling sets the scrolls on the table before coming to stand beside me. “You missed one.” He reaches past me, his sleeve brushing mine as he indicates an unmarked spot. “One of the scouts just arrived. The white stags of Aurora Grove have turned obsidian black.”
“What?” I blink. “That’s—”
His mouth quirks. “Impossible? Like water flowing uphill or temple doors sealing themselves shut with no one inside?”
“Every temple official Rafe and I spoke with this week had the same sort of stories. Such strangeness, and no clear response from the gods.” I rake my fingers through my hair, unable to summon energy to care about any traces of red wax I’m leaving behind.
“Something must be connecting these events. If we understand what the gods want, maybe we can put a stop to all of this.”
Sterling studies the map in silence, his expressive brown eyes narrowed in concentration. The shadows highlight his high cheekbones and square jaw. He stands perfectly still, the way he often does when thinking.
“I’ve sent messengers to the temples of Aletheia and Cyphero.
” Unable to remain still any longer, I begin to pace.
Outside, the weather is chilly and the gray clouds covering the sun cast the room in gloom.
“If anyone might give us straight answers, it’s the Goddess of Light and Truth or the God of Hidden Knowledge. ”
Sterling’s eyes track me, his stillness a contrast to my restless motion. “And if they don’t?”
“Then we keep pushing until someone breaks.” I cross to where I left my pack earlier and grab the worn leather strap. “I’m going to head out and speak to—”
The doors to the chamber swing open. Rafe enters first, his thick eyebrows drawn together. The remaining council members drift in behind him like a reluctant tide, their faces a mix of determination and exhaustion that probably mirror my own.
“Your Highness.” Rafe nods at me, then Sterling. “We’re ready to discuss supply lines for the Southern Shore reinforcements.”
Repressing a groan, I release my grip on my satchel. Another three hours, at minimum, of debating stone quality and labor distribution when more urgent matters demand attention. But the barriers require strengthening before the spring storms hit mere months from now.
Royal duty never ends.
I bite back a groan and force my features into polite interest.
Sterling shifts beside me. “Unfortunately, Lark and I have another engagement.”
Hope springs to life. He could tell me he’s taking me to count ants as they parade in and out of their colony and I’d gladly agree. Anything to get me out of this room for a while.
I manage a serious nod. “Yes, very important. Can’t be rescheduled.”
Before anyone can question us further, Leesa pops her dark golden blond head through the open doorway. Perfect timing.
Suspiciously so.
“Sorry to interrupt, but Lark, that important appointment…” She pauses for dramatic effect, and I almost snort. “You and Knox? Remember?”
I fight a smile as I arrange my features into an expression of dismay. “I completely lost track of time. My sincerest apologies, council members, but this particular matter…”
To my utter surprise, they all nod in understanding. Every last one of them.
Rafe waves a dismissive hand. “No problem, Your Highness. We’ll handle preliminary discussions and present options tomorrow.”
Relief floods through me as I gather my things, trying not to appear too eager to escape. Placing a hand on the small of my back, Sterling guides me to the exit. As always, the casual gesture spreads warmth across my skin.
“What is our oh so important appointment?” I whisper as the chamber doors close behind us.
Leesa falls into step with us as we descend the staircase. “Flowers.”
Sterling’s low laughter echoes. “Flowers?”
“Yes. Flowers.” Leesa grins. “The palace gardens are in full winter bloom, and if we don’t select the arrangements for the wedding and coronation soon, the royal gardener might collapse from anxiety. Bastian’s there with him, to keep him calm.”
I glance at Sterling, finding his amused gaze already on me. “Well, we can’t have that on our conscience now, can we?”
“Definitely not.” Leesa nudges my shoulder. “See? And here you thought it was a waste to use all those earth elementals to resuscitate the gardens so quickly after the fire.”
I huff. “Not sure the need for wedding flowers changes my mind. Although, on second thought, if it prevents another Odessa freak out, then it was definitely worth the effort.”
As we stroll toward the gardens, I can’t help but nibble my lip as an image of red marks with no discernable pattern on a map reappears in my mind.
The mystery of bizarre occurrences continues, and somewhere in Tirene, white stags have become black.
But for the moment, apparently, we must focus on flowers.
I shake off the persistent sense of unease.
Honestly? Flowers sound wonderful right about now.
Past the vine- and moss-covered stone wall, the royal gardens sprawl in artful wildness, a choreographed chaos of color and scent that’s somehow both overwhelming and perfectly balanced.
Sunlight filters through the ornamental fruit trees and umberhearts, dappling the cobblestone path with shifting patterns that remind me of that stupid map.
With annoyance, I push the thought away.
For just one afternoon, I want to slip free from the weight of the kingdom on my shoulders. I want to think about something beautiful and hopeful instead of ugly and ominous.
The royal guards trail us at a respectful distance, their weapons at the ready despite the peaceful setting.
Elijah Durand’s presence among them is still strange when I stop to think about it.
Not that long ago, when we were both students at Flighthaven Academy, the Aclarian noble hated me and strove to make my life miserable.
How things have changed.
“What do you think of these?” Leesa stops to admire a cluster of bluish purple blooms that tumble over a trellis. Her fingers hover just above the petals, not quite touching. “They’d make gorgeous centerpieces draped over little stands. Like colorful waterfalls.”
I tilt my head, contemplating. “I’m familiar with those. They’re beautiful, but aren’t they the ones that caused half the court to sneeze uncontrollably?”
“I’ve heard that was at last year’s reception for the Southshore delegates.” Bastian chimes in with a small smirk. “The head cook still complains about all the plates that went back untouched.”
“Right. Let’s avoid flowers that might clear the room before we finish our vows.” Sterling moves beside me with that fluid grace that always reminds me of a predator, though his expression remains soft as he surveys the flora.
A royal gardener hovers nearby, practically vibrating with anticipation. Shaggy brown hair that curls around the edges, brown eyes, and a brown beard blend right in with his dirt-stained apron. He’s nearly as tall and broad as Agnar.
“What do you think about these, Henry?” I point to a cluster of elegant white blossoms with golden centers reminiscent of stars against a night sky. “They’re lovely.”
“An excellent choice, Your Highness.” Henry comes forward eagerly, brushing his work-roughened hands against his apron. “Midnight Stars. They symbolize hope and new beginnings.”
“Perfect for a coronation and wedding.” Leesa grazes her lips over her knuckles and peruses another cluster of flowers. “Though we’ll need something with more color to balance them.”
I glance at Sterling, who’s studying a crimson bloom nearby. “These would look beautiful in your hair, Sterling.” I pluck one and hold it up to his shiny dark locks.
His mouth twitches. “I was thinking for my beard.”
Leesa raises an eyebrow. “You don’t have a beard.”
Sterling swipes a thoughtful hand over his jaw. “I’m considering one for the coronation.”
I try to picture him with facial hair and find myself smiling. “I don’t know if I’d recognize you.”
“That’s part of the appeal.” His voice drops lower, intended only for me. “Sometimes it’s good to be unrecognizable.”
At his tone, a strange shiver dances over my skin.