Chapter 21
“It’s been over an hour.” Thane stands with his back against the wall and his arms crossed tightly over his chest. He gives his head a shake, staring out the nearest window. “If we wait any longer, it’ll be too late to leave, and we’ll waste hours of the journey.”
He always seems annoyed, but I think he’s even more so now because Sheera took his weapons and vest as a precaution.
She even found the dagger strapped to the inside of his boot and another tucked into a leather band under the sleeve of his shirt.
He won’t get them back until it’s time for us to depart Bernwood altogether.
“You can go on if you want, but I’m not going anywhere near The Shallows until I see King Draedor,” Rynthea says.
“How does a king owe you anyway?” Algar asks. He’s lying on a divan with a sleeping Zephra on his belly. I can’t help but think about how a servant is going to have a really hard time getting the stench out of that upholstery.
“His son nearly drowned, and I was there when it happened.” Rynthea leans back in her chair. “I saved him.”
“Really?” My brows arch. “How old were you?”
“I was in my fourteenth year. The prince was in his eleventh.”
“Wow.”
“The tide came out of nowhere and was stronger than anyone expected. Apparently, Prince Kelrean had snuck out of Bernwood to have himself a little fun at the nearest shore with a few friends.”
“And if it weren’t for you, I wouldn’t have my heir.” A booming voice travels through the room.
I turn my head to find a man standing near the double doors.
Well, he isn’t exactly all man.
He has the mane of a lion, fur on his hands, claws protruding from his thick fingertips, and skin of a mortal—bronze-like skin, as if he spends the majority of his days basking in the sun.
His eyes, however, are just as fierce as a lion’s.
Equally as tall as Rynthea, he wears an ivory suit embellished in gold, and a purple tie with the letters BW.
An emblem is pinned to his suit, the same lion shape on the flags I saw outside.
With a warm, sharp-toothed smile, he approaches Rynthea and releases an exhilarated sigh.
“King Draedor.” She drops to one knee, bowing her head.
“Oh, don’t you dare.” He chuckles. “Rise and let me look at you!”
Rynthea hurries to her feet as an elegant woman breezes into the room in an ivory silk gown with a gold crown atop her head.
Her thick hair is pulled back in an elegantly coiffed puff with purple jewels pinned to one side.
Her eyes are a sparkling brown, her lips painted the color of black cherries, and her skin a lovely shade of brown with copper undertones. She is utterly breathtaking.
“Rynthea, you’re here!” the woman chimes as she aligns herself with the king. “I think this may be the best fete yet, darling. All of our favorite people have come.”
“Indeed,” King Draedor replies.
“Queen Jenia.” Rynthea bows her head, but Draedor is still insisting she stand up straight so he can study her. He seems fascinated by her. I can’t blame him. Minotaurs are beautiful, intellectual creatures.
“To what do we owe this pleasure?” Queen Jenia asks, clasping her nimble fingers together. The jewelry on her wrists tinkles, pearls entwined in gold bands. The sight of those pearls sends a pang of guilt through me that lands right in the pit of my stomach.
Knowing I’ll never see the necklace my mother gave me hurts all over again. Not only that, but I can no longer tell how Analla is. Is she still hanging on? Is she weaker? Has the necklace grown hotter because Seferin is physically hurting her?
If it were with me and still warm, I’d assume she’s still alive.
But I suppose I should consider it a good thing that it’s out of my possession.
It’d cause me to lose my mind. If it were with me now and decided to return to regular temperature, I’d know I’ve lost her.
I’m not sure I can fathom that while being so far away from home.
“I apologize for the inconvenience,” says Rynthea, her voice cutting through my thoughts. “I understand the Autumnal Beast Fete begins tonight, but this couldn’t wait. We’re traveling to the Temple of Elphar, and I need your guidance on getting through The Shallows to reach it.”
King Draedor’s face becomes as hard as stone as he glares at Rynthea. “I told you and Kelrean the story about The Shallows out of sheer boredom and for entertainment purposes, Rynthea. You’d be mad to travel there, especially now that The Shallows has drifted farther away from the mainland.”
“I know, but you survived it, and we really must get there.”
“What for?” King Draedor asks incredulously, looking from her to us, the other supposed lunatics in the room.
“She needs one of the prosperity stones.” Rynthea gestures to me before pointing to Thane.
“And he’s traveling with her as her protector.
Algar there…well, he and I are after the same thing.
We want some of the treasure in Elphar’s temple so we can better our lives. As a group, I believe we can make it.”
“You’ll lose your lives by going there. You should reconsider.” King Draedor raises an eyebrow, glowering at each of us. “You’re all children who clearly think you’re invincible. You don’t understand the true dangers of The Shallows.”
“We understand enough.” Thane’s voice has a hard edge to it as he steps forward. He acts like he’s speaking to a commoner and not a king.
“You understand nothing.” King Draedor stares him down before settling his gaze on Rynthea again.
“I’d have to either hate you or be a fool to give you guidance about that island, and neither of those apply.
I’m sorry, Rynthea, but I cannot do it. If it is currency you seek, my offer still stands for you to become one of my guards. ”
Rynthea groans. “The hours would be too long and inflexible, Your Majesty. I have to be around for Torjack and to keep Kamtaur Inn alive.”
“We have wonderful healers,” he adds.
“I know, but I can’t let Kamtaur shut down. That place is all I have left of my parents.”
King Draedor sighs, then purses his lips, as if he understands exactly where she’s coming from.
“Please,” I beg when Rynthea hesitates on what to say next.
The king and queen place their attention on me with stunned expressions.
“It’s a lot to ask, I know. But it’s for my sister.
She’s been cursed by a Grim sorcerer and will die if I don’t get one of the prosperity stones to save her.
It’s my only shot at setting her free.” I pause, feeling the weight of everyone’s eyes on me.
“I know I’m simply a mortal, and I understand there are risks, but I’m willing to take them if it means there’s even a slight chance to break that curse and get her back. ”
I try not to let my bottom lip tremble as King Draedor scans me. “Your name?” he inquires, eyes softening.
“Zaira,” I answer. “Zaira Quinlocke.”
Draedor raises his chin. The room falls into a thick silence.
“It’s honorable what you’re doing for your sister. I’ve not seen such nobility in a mortal in a very long time.” He looks at his wife, who gives him a please help them, darling expression.
“Nonsense. You encounter nobility every day when it comes to me.” Another beastial saunters into the grand room in a mauve suit, similar in height to the king, only leaner and with slightly less muscle.
Slightly. His well-tailored clothing does absolutely nothing to hide his toned arms or the definition of his chest. Unlike Draedor, almost everything about him is mortal minus his eyes, which are the color of a lion’s as well. “Although I am only half a mortal.”
I’ve never seen a man like him before. There is a controlled demeanor about him, as if he walks into every room knowing his place, confident in where he belongs.
And yet…there is also a hint of something feral and untamed within those deep lion eyes.
He has the loveliest shade of ochre skin, with hair shaved short on the sides, a sharp contrast to the riot of curls atop his head—thick, natural, and effortlessly regal.
Beneath the power of his crown, it seems even his hair refuses to be subdued.
He is easily one of the most beautiful beastials I’ve ever seen—if he is beastial at all. There is something unique about him and the king. They aren’t fully lion or mortal, and they are much taller than any other beastial I’ve seen, excluding Rynthea.
“Kelrean, you were supposed to be here half an hour ago.” Queen Jenia gives him a stern eye.
Ah. The prince. This makes sense.
“My apologies, Mother. I had a rather important meal to eat.”
I can’t help noticing the mischievous smirk that settles over Kelrean’s lips.
“Very well.” King Draedor’s voice bellows through the room again, stealing my attention back. He continues on like his son and wife haven’t spoken at all. “I will tell you all what I know about The Shallows, but it will have to be after the fete.”
“The Shallows?” Kelrean frowns as he looks from his father to Rynthea. “Why on Thelanor are you going there? Are you suicidal?”
“Not even close,” Rynthea says.
The prince’s golden eyes land on mine. He flashes a lopsided smile.
I blush as I smile back. There’s no way a prince is flirting with me. Me, a woman who’s just walked for hours, smells like swamp, and looks like a pile of horse droppings. Nope. Absolutely no way. I avert my gaze, only to catch Thane in the corner, glaring at the prince with heavily knitted brows.
He looks ready to kill.
Clearing my throat, I listen to Rynthea explain for the second time why we’re going to the island of death while Queen Jenia tosses in my reason behind needing a prosperity stone.
“You were right, Father.” Kelrean sweeps his eyes up and down the length of me. “She is noble.”
“Indeed,” responds the king. “Very brave. A true example of Orvena’s courage.”
“And what is your name?” Kelrean asks.
“Zaira.”
“What a beautiful name.” His compliment is smooth. “So full of character.”
Like a fool, I blush again as the prince reveals a charismatic smile.
“As I informed you, we must go to our people for the Autumnal Beast Fete,” King Draedor announces.
“I encourage you all to be our guests and join us for the merriment. You may make use of our guest chambers so you can refresh yourselves before meeting us in the village square. Feel free to make use of the baths, and you are welcome to anything in our wardrobes.”
“Well, that is terrific.” Algar hobbles past me with Zephra cradled in one of his hands. “I’d love to take a scalding-hot bath in a castle this divine, Your Majesty. I’m honored to be your guest.”
“Is that a maobi?” Kelrean ogles Zephra with burning curiosity.
“She is.”
“Beautiful creatures, they are. But rare. A female?”
“Yes.”
“And she allows you to just hold her? I hear they don’t care for mortals and bite hard enough to take off a finger.”
“Well, I’ve had her for two months, and she hasn’t bitten me yet. What can I say? She’s my better half.” Algar holds her up a bit higher in his cupped hand, removing lint from her tail. “I’ve seen her bite others, though, and it is not pretty. She’s a little savage when she wants to be.”
“Kelrean, why don’t you lead our guests to the main halls and inform the helpers that they’ll need assistance?” Queen Jenia offers.
I like that they call their people helpers and not servants. There’s something cozy—no, kind—about that. Commendable. These are good people.
“With pleasure, Mother.” Kelrean places his attention on me again, offering me an elbow. “My lady?”
I smile, looping my arm through his and leaving the room at the prince’s side. When we pass a set of guards, I look over my shoulder to see Rynthea still chatting with the king and queen.
Algar is following us, as well as Thane.
But Thane’s eyes are now burning gold as he glares invisible daggers at the back of the prince’s head.