Chapter 50 #2
“I searched through many books until I found them. Most only had information about two of them: the first was a law guaranteeing food for gorgons, even those excluded from their clans. The second was about job openings for humans in fae society. But I believe the real focus is the third law: if a fae, human, or gorgon attacks a descendant, they have full right to seek justice—even to take lives without being judged.”
Serguei fell silent, and that alone told me I was right.
When he made his blood pact with Elitium, the former king Elaizer had just died, so the Law of Succession, which preserved the last decrees, allowed ten years of retaliation if any Interian harmed a descendant.
Not even the blood pact could nullify that rule.
The big question was: what had ten thousand people done to the descendants for Serguei to take their lives?
After Ravena revealed herself as an enemy spy and committed treason, causing King Elaizer’s death, the refugee descendants became targets and were expelled from the walls.
So even if those ten thousand people had done something against the descendants, it would be justifiable, since Ravena was one of our people and she was the one who started everything bad that happened to us in Interion.
Even as a descendant myself, I couldn’t see how Serguei’s ten thousand victims played a part in any of this.
If they did something against the descendants, it was because we were to blame. Ravena had made us enemies.
“You’re mistaken if you think we were declared enemies because of Ravena. We were declared enemies the moment we were born. Things just got worse when we set foot inside these walls.”
That was true. Our genetics ran like a curse through our veins, and there wasn’t a safe place within the five nations for my people. However, no one knew about the other place—the one Serguei and Zion kept secret.
“Are you telling me the anti-Drute movements started before Ravena’s rebellion?”
“If there’s a law, there’s a story behind it. Think about that, girl. When you find answers, call me—I want to hear them,” he said in a way that made it clear the subject was closed.
“Why can’t you just tell me? There are hardly any accounts of what happened when Elaizer fell. They burned and erased all news and information from when the descendants lived here in Interion. There aren’t even records of your days as leader of the night squad.”
“A good teacher doesn’t hand out answers—he asks questions that spark curiosity. Curiosity forces you to think, to question, to sharpen your critical eye. And being critical is like being the one-eyed man in the land of the blind. If I just tell you, where’s the fun in that?”
“Does it have to be fun?” I asked, rolling my eyes.
“Of course! It’s entertaining to watch children fry their brains trying to find answers I already know.
” I opened my mouth to curse at him, but he quickly added, “Save the sweet talk for later. Right now I need to finish getting dinner ready. I only stopped because your mind got too loud and I figured we should chat. I need to go, but I’ll be expecting you both for dinner. ”
“I don’t know if Zion will come, but I’ll be there,” I replied, his presence still humming in my mind.
Serguei laughed.
“Don’t doubt for a second that he’ll come. A kicked dog still follows its owner wherever she goes. Men are no different.”
Serguei’s heavy presence vanished from my head, leaving me in painful silence.
I tucked back some strands of hair that kept escaping my braid while stretching my back, sore from hours bent over the daisies.
That’s when I felt someone watching me. I looked toward the glass wall of the living room and caught Zion staring at me, Kiara beside him.
For a second, my world slowed as we locked eyes.
His gaze was hard, hard as ocean rocks. Indecipherable as the depths of those waters.
After an instant—as brief as a heartbeat—he looked away and headed upstairs, leaving only Kiara to stare at me.
I watched him go, and an endless sadness struck my chest. Now, after a day of work and reflection, his words had settled in my mind, and I actually felt ridiculous.
If everything Zion had said was true, maybe I really had made a mountain out of a molehill.
But even if it was true, I still couldn’t forget the omission.
I was still upset. And I couldn’t ignore the bite either—after all, I doubted Zion would.
After putting away the materials, the cake finally arrived and I stored it in the refrigerator.
I’d ordered it before what happened on the cliff with Adele—a small gift to thank Serguei for helping with the surgery.
But now that I thought about the cliff, I wanted to smash the cake in his face.
In that mood, I went upstairs to get ready.
Δ
I stared at myself in the mirror. My countless freckles were even more pronounced after the afternoon I’d spent in the sun, turning my face into a mess of little brown spots.
For the occasion, I chose a light blue midi dress with long sleeves.
It was one of the many button-covered dresses Ambrose had given me when I was younger.
It used to be loose, but now it fit snugly at the waist, hugging my silhouette and hips before falling loose to my calves.
I put on white sandals that laced up to my ankles.
When I finally convinced myself I was presentable enough for dinner at the royal palace, I went downstairs to get the cake.
Zion was sitting on the couch, and I was relieved to see he was dressed for the occasion. Once again, Serguei’s prediction was right.
His fingers ran through Kiara’s fur as she lay at his feet. He wore a frowning, clouded expression, as if trying to puzzle out a riddle. He had on a burgundy sweater and black jeans, still wearing his military boots, his hair falling loose over his broad shoulders.
My stomach churned and I swallowed hard. I was still angry, but only a fraction of what I’d felt the day before. The problem was that now it wasn’t anger burning through me—it was shame for the foolishness I’d shown in creating a scandal and biting him.
When I reached the middle of the stairs, Zion cast me a heavy look—as heavy as the words I’d thrown in his face the day before.
He quickly looked away and finally stood up.
I passed by him, avoiding eye contact, and went to the reading room to find the black book.
I felt unprepared to deal with whatever we were.
Zion stayed in the center of the room, hands casually in his pockets, watching my every move as if I might magically pull a knife from my bag and hurl it at him.
I returned to the kitchen, afraid he’d say something about Kaori that would set my nerves on edge again.
I set the book on the counter—now I just needed to get the cake I’d bought for Serguei and decorate it with the white candles.
With every movement, I felt Zion’s eyes following me, but I pretended not to care.
He leaned against the doorframe and stayed there.
Billions of unspoken words hung between us, all screaming to be said.
But we just stared at each other, trying to understand what kind of fracture this was, what scale of earthquake had torn through our lives.
Maybe if I understood the extent of the damage, I could find a way to piece us back together. For now, we were an incomplete puzzle.
I looked away and turned my attention to the small gradient cake.
The base started in gray and dark blue, shifting to light gray, and finally fading to almost white.
I’d also asked them to add the name “Serguei,” and they’d made a cloud-shaped metal plaque with the word engraved in white.
It sat on top of the cake, anchored by a base that went through the frosting.
Zion approached, studying the design, his eyebrows drawn together as he tried to make sense of it.
When I’d ordered the storm theme, I’d imagined something elegant and serious, but what they delivered looked like it belonged at a kid’s birthday party.
I blushed watching Zion’s expression. His mouth was still bruised and swollen where I’d bitten him.
He picked up the book from the counter, and I lifted the cake carefully, trying not to ruin it or get my hands dirty.
“Shall we?” he asked, extending his hand. Two simple words that made my heart beat faster.
“Yes.”
My voice came out hoarse; it was the first word I’d dared to speak in twenty-four hours.
He wrapped an arm around my waist, holding me tight against his body.
I held my breath. I was afraid of losing myself in his scent, afraid of being swept away by his sweet words, afraid he’d see through my mask.
I was angry, jealous, full of hate and shame, wearing those feelings like shining armor.
Because behind all of that, I burned as I mentally replayed the desperate declaration of love he’d made the day before.
I burned with a confusion of sensations so new that I felt dazed, not knowing what to do with myself.
Without hesitating, he waved us through, and as he did, I strengthened my mental barrier, making it a little stronger than an eggshell. Later that night, I laughed at the idea of hiding my thoughts from Serguei.
It was like trying to catch the ocean with a sieve.