Chapter 10
Chapter Ten
Daemon
“Where is everyone?” Daemon whispered through clenched teeth.
Empty wasn’t the right word to describe Kalmeera’s marketplace. Desolate would have been much more accurate. The stalls that lined the streets were nearly barren. The walkways were devoid of people, and trash and debris littered the ground.
This wasn’t the Kalmeera Daemon knew. Not the one that he would lay down his life for. Davina’s influence on his court had caused this, and in turn, something dark began to build inside of him.
Daemon walked down the street that usually held vendors from every corner of Ixora.
Tents, typically full of gems or wares from other courts, stood empty with their tables overturned.
The only vendors who were present were those from the Court of Pearl and a few from Topaz.
Even Kalmeera’s own merchants were absent.
Interesting.
Yvaine and Aiden were close on his heels as they slowly crept through the chaos covering the ground.
Neither answered his question until they were far enough away from prying eyes and listening ears.
He hated that he no longer trusted the ones who resided inside his court.
But he also knew that there were some that had been influenced, or whose loyalty had been bought, by Davina.
“As I said earlier, father–” Yvaine said his name like a curse, “let her roam around unaccompanied. Evidently, on one of her little outings, she came here. Announced herself as the new princess and future queen—not just of the Sapphire Isles, but of all Ixora—and then closed the market. Only the courts and people who have aligned with her are allowed to sell at the market now.”
Daemon’s shadows spilled from the tips of his fingers as his rage grew.
“That’s not all, D,” Aiden said, clasping the prince’s shoulder. “She tried to throw the ones who questioned her in the dungeons.”
“What?!” he seethed. His shadows wrapped around his arms like serpents, the darkness that fed his magic filling his vision as his breath came in harsh inhales.
How dare she throw his people in the dungeon.
She had no right. Betrothed to the heir or not, these were not her people.
They would never be her people if he had any say about it.
“D?” Aiden’s voice was wary.
Yvaine stepped into his line of sight, her brows furrowed as her eyes trailed over his body. “Daemon, they’re fine. No one is in the dungeon… You—you need to calm yourself.”
He couldn’t think, couldn’t breathe, around the anger that was coiling through him.
Yvaine gripped one of his shoulders, then his chin in her other hand, forcing his gaze to hers. Worry laced the vibrant greens of her eyes before sheer determination replaced the emotion.
Streams of blue that reminded him of the bioluminescence in the tunnels leading into the city gradually penetrated the moss green of her iris’.
Then, ever so slowly, a sweet melody seeped into his mind.
Lulling the anger that had wrapped itself so tightly around his insides to sleep.
It was like the breeze whispering through the trees or a mother’s lullaby.
Calm.
He felt…calm.
The melody continued for a few moments before it slowly faded away, taking the black that had crept into his vision. Daemon closed his eyes and shook his head lightly. “Damn it, Yvaine. You promised.”
“Yeah, well, promises don’t mean shit when your brother is turning into a giant, swirling shadow and looks like he’s about to obliterate everything in his path.”
Daemon focused on his breathing, and when he opened his eyes, he saw how wide Aiden’s had become.
“Holy shit.” Awe filled his friend’s voice as his eyes anxiously flitted between the siblings.
“Yvaine is a fucking siren?! How did I never know this?” Aiden’s words were barely above a whisper, and there was no way that anyone down the street had overheard, but still… it made Daemon’s spine stiffen.
Yvaine’s shoulders drooped as she threw her head back and rolled her eyes.
When she finally met Aiden’s gaze, hers was hard.
“Yes. And you’re going to keep that to yourself, understood?
The last thing I need, that we need, is you-know-who finding that out and attempting to manipulate me. Or use it against Daemon.”
Aiden nodded, his eyes still wide.
Sirens were rare. It is so rare, in fact, that the only text on them and their abilities was written centuries ago, and the last known siren was around during the War of Rosewood. Very few knew of his sister’s abilities, and Daemon was determined to keep it that way.
With his magic back under control, he turned toward his sister. “Thanks, sis. I know you don’t like doing it, just as much as I don’t like you doing it to me.”
Yvaine shook her head and lightly pushed his shoulder. “Couldn’t have you going on a rampage through what was left of the market, now could I?”
Her tone was playful, but there was an undercurrent of worry. She’d never seen his magic out of control like that. And it seemed to be happening more frequently as of late. Not even his week at the sanctuary had helped. His magic seemed to be settled only when he was with Auraelia.
Daemon shook his head to clear the turbulent thoughts from his mind. It wasn’t something he could figure out standing on a cluttered street.
By the time they made their way toward the castle again, the sun had begun its slow descent in the sky, painting the tall white towers surrounding his home in vibrant shades of orange.
The trio had been silent for the most part on their return trip, each seemingly lost in their own thoughts.
But after seeing Auntie Jodie and then the market, Daemon knew he had put off a certain confrontation long enough.
Once at the bridge that led onto the castle grounds, Daemon turned toward his sister and Aiden. He hadn’t even parted his lips to speak when Yvaine squeezed his hand in hers and nodded. How she knew, he would never understand. But he gave her a weak smile, then let his shadows consume him.
Daemon found his mother sitting on a bench beneath the plumeria trees that edged the courtyard of the rear gardens.
The same ones that he’d sat under with Auraelia after he’d taken her to Azure Falls.
The thought had the muscles in his chest constricting, and he rubbed at his sternum in an attempt to alleviate some of the tension.
He approached on foot, making sure to step on fallen twigs to alert her to his presence.
“Mother.” His voice was gruff, and even he could hear the accusatory tone laced within it.
Queen Avyanna tensed but then forced herself to relax before looking up from the tome in her lap to meet his gaze. “Hello, my son.”
The air seemed to still as a tense silence settled between them. Like the wind itself was waiting with bated breath over who would break first.
It was Queen Avyanna who did so. Sighing into the silence before gesturing to the empty seat on the bench. “Would you like to sit? Or will you just stand there in silence, brooding over me?”
Daemon exhaled sharply through his nose, then sat, keeping his gaze locked onto the horizon as the sun continued to set. “Did you know?”
“Did I know what, Daemon? You need to be clearer.”
A wry laugh escaped, and he shook his head.
“Did you know about Davina? About her plans? Did you know that Father had trapped me in a marriage while also knowing how I felt about Auraelia? Did you know that before or after you tried to help me find a solution?” Daemon ran his hands roughly through his hair and stood from the bench.
Whipping around to face his mother and the shocked expression that marred her features.
“Was that clear enough for you, Mother? Do you understand the question now?”
Queen Avyanna’s eyes were wide as she stared back at her son. No doubt his hair was sticking out all over the place from the manic way his hands had run through it, but he didn’t care. He wanted answers. Needed them, and he’d been avoiding this conversation for long enough.
His mother swallowed audibly, then looked down to where her hands were clasped in her lap, resting over the now-closed tome whose cover read The War and Treaty of Rosewood.
He knew that book. He had read it so many times when he was attempting to find a solution to be with Auraelia that he was sure he could recite it backward.
Queen Avyanna cleared her throat but kept her eyes downcast. “I believe you were quite clear in your inquiries, Daemon.” When she finally looked up to meet his eyes, the cornflower blue of her own were brighter than usual as tears lined their rims. “I didn’t know about Davina.
Not at first. I didn’t know anything until after your father agreed to her terms.” She took a deep, shaky breath, then continued.
“But, Daemon. I had no idea what she had planned for solstice. I–I’m so sorry. ”
Daemon stared down at his mother, and though he was still furious, he could feel the ice around his heart toward her begin to melt away. “Did Father know about her plan for Queen Adelina?”
He believed her when she said she hadn’t any idea. He knew that if she had, she wouldn’t have gone to solstice and probably would have tried to forbid him from doing so as well. But he had to know if his father knew.
“I…I haven’t talked to your father more than necessary since we came back. I’ve even moved into the Queen’s suite. But if I had to guess, I would assume so—yes.”
Daemon turned away from his mother, his magic surging under the surface as his fists clenched at his sides.
Somewhere in the recesses of his mind, he’d known the answer.
It had everything to do with how he’d acted after the Lyndarian queen died.
“It’s not our business, son,” King Evander had said that after the queen collapsed to the ground, his grip on Daemon’s arm was hard as he tried to keep him from going to Auraelia.
He had to have known. There was no other explanation.
Daemon turned back to where his mother sat on the bench, wringing her hands in her lap. Closing the small distance between them, he kneeled in front of the queen. She raised her eyes to his when he clasped her trembling hands in his to still the movement.
“I’m going to Lyndaria,” he said matter-of-factly. He didn’t want to leave any room for argument, and the acceptance in his mother’s eyes said that she understood, but her words solidified it.
“May the Goddess protect and guide you, my son. And may she welcome you.”
Queen Avyanna placed a chaste kiss on his brow, and then he stood and headed toward his chambers.
There was a lot to do and not a lot of time to do it.