Chapter 26
At the Sisters of Evella monasteries, our novices come to us for a myriad of reasons – bound together through a sense of duty. Many are Anomalies wishing to repay Evella for her blessing by helping those in need.
— SISTER AGNAITIA IX, PIOUS MOTHER OF THE FIRST HOLY ORDER OF EVELLA
With trembling fingers I pinched the bridge of my nose.
I cracked open dry eyes, blinking at the blurry words swimming across yellowing pages.
I leaned back, sighing at the state of the library.
The boarded-up window. Vacant spaces where the tables and chairs Glesni had used as incredibly successful weapons had once sat.
Glancing at the hazy piles of books and maps, I groaned.
Even with help, the amount of research and information we faced was staggering.
And right now, even the glasses were failing me.
I’d gathered the books, found the relevant sections of the treaty, deciding the immediate threat from The Alliance took precedence.
It was imperative to halt the fading remnants of The Alliance from splitting apart and tearing Matthias’s throne from him.
But I’d also been so tantalisingly close to finding the Vyrium stores.
The patterns were there. I needed time to collate it all, pinpoint exactly where we could mine before Romero found it first.
If only Evella had gifted me time instead of the ability to raise deranged corpses.
At least I no longer spent my mornings training with Glesni.
A spike of guilt ran through me, and I rubbed my palm with my thumb.
She must be lonely, but I was able to harness my gift so much better.
I practised daily; moths (forgetting how scared Ifan was and trying not to laugh at the high-pitched scream he’d uttered) mice, dogs, horses, and none had run from me.
The thread of each creature connected with increasing ease.
If anyone questioned why I no longer visited the old woman, there would be no need to wonder.
As far as they knew, I’d mastered the gift.
I was an Anomaly. I prayed to Evella that Glesni would keep my other gift secret.
I rubbed my eyes. ‘Gods, I’m totally fucked,’ I muttered under my breath.
Raised voices from the hallway caught my attention.
‘If you’re after my position, prince, tell me.’ There was an unusually dark undercurrent to Asher’s tone.
‘Perhaps if you spent more of your time preventing rebel attacks than mooning over a princess you’ve no intention of being with, then I wouldn’t have to speak to the king over this.’
I pretended to focus on the text before me, placing a settling hand on Pablo’s head as a low growl rumbled through him. Ifan prowled about the corridors, apparently with a worse headache than I, but was he truly blaming Asher for the attack?
‘We lost four guards, an Anomaly and suffered damage to our palace and reputation,’ Ifan spat. ‘Something we can ill afford.’
The two figures entered the seemingly empty library, and Pab snarled. His muscles taut under my fingers as he set his amber eyes on the prince and captain.
‘Shh,’ I whispered. ‘I want to see where this goes.’
‘I don’t shirk responsibility for the attack; it came out of the blue. I offered Matthias my resignation and he refused.’
Ifan barked a dark laugh. ‘Am I supposed to be surprised the insufferable martyr refused? With him on the throne and your hand controlling the guards, we may as well lie down and give Romero our lands right now.’
An ember of rage flared within. Yes, Matthias took too much on himself, but he did everything he could to be a good king, to help his people.
‘Do you speak to your king this way, Ifan?’ The hazy figure of Asher stood taller.
I wondered if Matthias had any clue as to how his brother viewed him.
It would be another cut in his already damaged heart.
During those dark nights, when he’d whispered his worries, he’d told me of the guilt he carried about the twin exiled to harsh Carush.
Ifan, so young, so scared, had been sent across the sea, ripped from his twin.
I worried my lip. No wonder Ifan was always so angry.
‘Why?’ Ifan scoffed. ‘Even if he knew, he’d add it to the millstones around his already struggling neck.
He’s like our father, painfully noble. Drowning in his self-destructive ability to take everything on his own cracking shoulders.
Asmar will fall under his rule. Within the next year we’ll have nothing left because of you two. ’
Pablo snarled and stood, his paws pacing as he kept his eyes locked on them. Their faces turned in our direction.
‘Great work, wolf,’ I said, letting out a sigh as Ifan strode from the library and Asher approached. ‘Really great.’
A thin smile lay on the captain’s taut face.
‘How’s the research going?’ he asked, grabbing the book and flipping it towards him, a look of disgust crossing his features as he took in the dull prose.
Cricking my neck, I turned it back to me as Pablo nuzzled Asher’s fingers. ‘Painfully slowly.’
‘Well, if you need any help…’
‘Are you actually offering to read these for me, Captain?’
His dark brown eyes widened. ‘Vyrus’s balls, no. But I’m rather happy to offer Skye’s services… or I’m sure I could spare an injured guard or two.’
I laughed, shoving my glasses back up my nose.
‘It’s so good to see a smile on that lovely face of yours,’ he said.
I pulled the glasses down and stared at him, one brow raised as the captain grinned.
‘Why?’
‘Because you’re really going to need some good humour to welcome your visitors.’
A stone slammed into my gut.
‘Visitors?’
‘Your sister.’
Gods. My half-sister. I’d meant to write, but, she was still Romero’s beloved daughter. I furrowed my brow. ‘Enfys? She’s here, but—’
Asher held up a hand; a grim look flashed through his eyes. ‘And her chaperone.’
‘Not Romero?’ A chill raced down my spine.
‘You’ll be pleased to learn it’s not Romero.’ His expression didn’t fill me with confidence.
I glared at him pointedly.
‘She’s been saddled with Duke Danté.’
The whole castle must have heard my groan.
Francis flustered before me and Matthias as we prepared to enter the state room. I could practically hear my husband’s jaw grinding as Francis’s jowls wobbled. His face took on a solemn expression.
‘Please, Your Highness, try your hardest not to punch Drufaera’s ambassador.’ He straightened the king’s collar. ‘Diplomacy, Your Highness.’
He looked me up and down, before nodding. ‘Diplomacy,’ he said one final time, bowing deeply and standing aside.
Matthias gripped my hand, laid a kiss across my knuckles, before offering his arm.
‘Diplomacy. If anyone’s going to punch him, it’s me,’ I said, squeezing his arm. ‘Anyway, it’s my turn.’
Matthias shook with laughter. ‘I suppose it’s the gentlemanly thing to do.’
The servants, dressed in full livery, opened the gilded doors to the stateroom.
I fought the urge to twist my neck, desperate to gawk at the opulence.
I’d been so tied to the library, I’d missed half the delights my new home offered.
Matthias led the way down a ridiculously long crimson carpet, past a plethora of scarlet and cream loveseats.
To our right, lay a wall of leaded windows, flooding the room with early evening light.
Glancing to the left, I raised a brow at a range of huge tapestries and paintings.
Dragging my gaze to the front, I made out a blur of standing figures.
Pablo prowled by my side, his head low.
‘Eww,’ Matthias whispered through the fake smile he’d plastered on his face. ‘Would you look at that smug grin?’
I bit my lip to halt the smile. ‘Thankfully, I can’t.’
‘Lucky you. Do you think it’d be rude to close my eyes so I don’t have to see him either? He’s making me queasy.’
‘Francis would suggest it’s childish. Though it would be highly entertaining to watch the king crash arse over elbow on those loveseats.’
Matthias lowered his head so close I felt his smile against the nape of my neck. ‘I’ll keep them open then. I’ve got some rather interesting plans for how we can use those loveseats and none will be possible with a broken leg.’
‘Sorrow!’ Enfys bounded towards me, sparing me from the blush rising up my throat as she hauled me in to a tight embrace.
I swallowed down all I should say, plastering a smile on my face.
Joy glittered in her blue eyes. We’d let the years create more than distance between us, and part of me regretted the time apart from her.
There was so much we should talk about. So much we should face…
She let go, and my heart stuttered. This close, her resemblance to Mama was terrifying.
Did she still recall how Mama tore at her eyes?
Did she wake in the night screaming as she had that day?
How could I ever ask? She’d been so young, and the blood…
I looked away. Did I truly want to know if she still bore the scars of my failure to control the cursed gift?
She threw herself into the arms of my husband, and he gripped her tightly.
A frigid vice grasped my heart and, for a moment, I was leaning against a window, sobbing silently as I watched my best friend lay a kiss on my half-sister’s head.
I still hadn’t had the guts to confront him about why he’d not once bothered with me following the accident.
His words though, how marrying Enfys would be like marrying Skye.
He’d had no plans to marry her, yet still a flicker of mistrust burned in my heart.
I blew out a long breath as their hug ended.
Matthias glanced at me. The smile, the one that tore me apart, lit up his face. The smile he saved for me. Not Enfys.
A pathetically weak cough swiped away those smiles, and we turned to Danté, a wine glass already in his hand, smirking widely by the white marble fireplace.