23. Kyros
Chapter twenty-three
Kyros
Sitting in the chair I pulled over to the bedside, I let out a small sigh of relief as I look down at Astraea.
I allow myself a brief moment to take in every detail of her sleeping: the outline of her nose and the dark hair fanning out on the pillow and spilling over the edge of the bed.
After she reluctantly ate some of the food I brought for her, she finally is getting some much needed rest. She holds tightly onto Colette, and it gives me some comfort to know they’ve been reunited.
Astraea has been sick with worry for her friend's safety.
That worry has only morphed into something deeper as she's returned in body but has yet to wake from her injury…
Save that episode of panic. It's a feeling I am becoming very familiar with. Not only with my brother and Zinya, but with what lingers in the unknown about Astraea too. I didn’t want to stress her further with the new knowledge that I am still working through in the book, but that conversation will be happening soon.
I don't want to keep things from her. Not anymore.
Shifting in the chair uncomfortably, my eyes flick between the weathered pages and then reflexively back at Astraea and Colette asleep in the bed.
I’ve been sitting in the corner of this room far too long, flipping through the thick tome, The Zavian, until my eyes feel as though they are going to bleed if I don’t tear them away.
I have barely made a dent in the information within.
It seems to be an archaic grimoire of sorts.
The text reads like a journal in spots, with chaotic ramblings from whoever recorded it.
In other parts, it contains detailed references of the shadow realm and its creatures.
Hand-drawn pictures and diagrams explore the creatures that were meant to be myth: the manticore, thunderbirds, cerkin, and even more horrendous beasts I’ve never even heard of decorate the pages.
It’s the scratched writing in the margins on many of the pages referencing the ‘fire of the fallen’ that has me narrowing my eyes on the pages.
Like maybe if I focus hard enough, all the answers will be revealed to me.
It could never be so simple.
Much of the book is written in a language I’m not entirely fluent in understanding.
I need to get this book to someone who can decipher what I can’t.
I know Kaeleith won’t be of any help, having already told me that she ‘has said too much’—whatever the hell she meant by that.
I know her well enough to realize she won’t budge.
What makes it even harder is that there aren’t many people I feel I can trust anymore.
I never had many people I trusted in the first place, and that list is dwindling the more I find out about the secret these kingdoms hold.
I know I can trust Rowan, though, and he will be able to read the text.
Tucking the book away, I cross the room, running my fingers along Astraea’s jaw. She lets out a sigh, and her eyes flutter open at the touch. She reaches up to hold it to her face, and I smile down at her. She is so damn beautiful.
“You need to rest.” She says sleepily.
“I will. Don’t worry about me.” I whisper, removing my hand and taking a slow step back.
She mumbles something incoherent in her sleep.
I know she's right. Even if I need to force myself through a fitful few hours.
I need to try, if only for the fact that the future is still unclear.
Sleep might be low on the list of priorities, but it's necessary.
The wood floor creaks as I step out into the hall. It’s the middle of the night, but there is still a soft glow coming from the main living area. I know Kaeleith made her way to bed several hours ago, so that leaves only one other person that could still be up at this hour.
“I was wondering if you might have fallen asleep in there with them.” Ruaan says in greeting.
He crosses one leg over his knee before flipping the page in another one of Kaeleith’s books.
“The dweller has some interesting reading material.” He says, finally looking up from the tome.
He drags his eyes from the book in my hand to my face.
“Did you find anything insightful?” I ask sarcastically.
“Plenty.” He responds just as flatly, also not elaborating.
This back-and-forth between the prince and me has to end if we are going to be traveling together.
I am smart enough to admit that he could be useful, both for learning more about my magick and as another sword to fight with.
I am still cautious, though. I don’t understand what his role in all of this is.
Why does he want to insert himself and his kingdom into this mess that is likely going to have a brutal end?
“What do you gain from all of this? Why do you want to be a part of any of it?” I ask, cutting the bullshit. I drop into the chair across from him and lean forward, arms on my knees as I wait for his response. If I am going to try to trust him, it’s something I need to know.
“My father would prefer I not be here for the reasons I am. Our thoughts on ruling differ greatly. For one, I don’t care to rule at all.
I never wanted to be the monarch of Pyraxia.
Being a king means nothing to me—not anymore.
” He sighs, standing and setting the book he was reading on the table in front of us.
“But yet, you came to the Eathian court to play into Connard’s games for his daughter's hand…” Saying those words makes my stomach sour. Now, the mere thought of anyone courting my princess makes my blood boil.
“There was once a time when I thought differently about being king, but thanks to Connard, that reason was ripped away from me. Pyraxia may have the raw power to defend its own borders, but our biggest ally has always been our neighbors in the sand. Eathian. Our trading and mining had kept it that way for as far back as our histories go, but we weakened when Connard became king. Magick is more than just child's play. For many, it’s a means of survival. A way of life. Many Pyraxians became worried for retaliation from the larger kingdom—with the much larger military. They refused to use their magick and had to change everything about how they lived their lives.” Ruaan’s brows stitch together as he looks out the window and into the darkness of another starless night.
His features harden as he thinks about it.
He stands there silently for a long moment.
I almost wonder if he is done with his story altogether, but then he sighs, shaking his head.
“When my father found out the information about this relic, he wanted it and the power that came alongside it. Just men who want; nothing else. But since that’s not the case for me, I did some digging.
” He pauses, his expression turning grim.
“The outcome of my findings is what led you and me to meet the way we did a couple years ago. When I found a way that I could repay Connard for his wrongdoings, I took it. Then I met her—Astraea. Something about her seemed so familiar. Even now, though I still can’t put my finger on exactly what it is, and well, her kindness made using her feel wrong.
I think anyone could read the dynamic between the princess and her father and tell that it was strained at best.” I bristle at the mention of using Astraea for anything, even though we went in with a similar plan.
“You planned to—what? I saw what you delivered to the man you said was responsible for taking what was yours. I know it wasn’t an object you were talking about that day.
” I fold my arms over my chest as he turns back to look out the window once again.
The moon illuminates half of his face, and a muscle twitches in his jaw as I clearly have struck a nerve.
“I planned to take the one thing that he coveted most and ruin it—just as he did to me.” His features turn sinister as he turns back to face me.
Shadows cut across his eyes, and the gold within them seems to glow with his fury.
My fingers curl into my fist, nails biting into the palm of my hand as I realize what he’s telling me.
The room darkens as wisps of shadow seep from my skin, spilling to the floor like a dark waterfall.
He looks down at my show of power unphased.
“I was quick to realize that the false King of Eathian covets nothing over his own affluence. Not even the life of his daughter. Despite how much he enjoys making a show of her.” I could agree with this sentiment.
My shadows dissipate slowly as I stand, wrapping along my arms like they always do.
“And you care as much as you do because you are more than the appointed heir to Diemos. Considering everything he stole from you, it makes me wonder what your reason is for being in such close company with his daughter.” He says, and I narrow my eyes on him.
“Connard Casimir stole more than just a crown and a chair from me.” I respond, not addressing his curiosity about my relationship with Astraea.
“Well…We’re just two future kings bound to darkness and the deaths of those who have wronged us.
We share a common goal.” I run the information he’s shared over in my mind and what it could be that he has yet to divulge.
I can’t help but see a little of myself in his gaze.
“Common enemies make for the best allies.” Ruaan’s voice rumbles between us, our eyes locked intensely.
A lifetime of secrets and that burning need for retribution stands between us.
Turning my palm up, I offer him my hand, and with a nod, his palm drops into mine. Two kings and a common enemy.
Before, I was concerned about the feeling of emptiness where my magick was supposed to reside.
Now that well is brimming with a familiar feeling.
The power ripples along my skin. I lift my hand, letting the shimmering black smoke curl and slide through my fingers.
The cool feel of it sends a shiver down my spine.
Fuck, it feels good to have it back. It does make me curious about how Astraea seemed to have pulled it from wherever it was hiding.
My hand falls to my side, my magick stilling on my skin out of habit as I hear shuffled footsteps approaching.
“The girl is awake. She does seem to be in better shape this morning.” Kaeleith says quietly as she stands at the doorway to the bedroom and looks around the space with those milky, unseeing eyes.
“I will gather you all some rations to take with you. Some healing balms and tinctures too.” She nods to the supplies I have laid out.
It’s early, but the sun has begun to rise.
It’s enough to paint the room with a diluted gray light that seeps through the curtains, which I’ve yet to draw back.
“Where is Ruaan?” I ask with a learned vexation coating my tongue when it comes to the prince. The new truce with him will take some time to get used to. Last night at least he was less of an arrogant prick than usual.
“Already with the girls.”
“Humft,” I grunt out of my nose before turning to face Kaeleith.
“There might be good reason that Prince Ruaan arrived here with the girl instead of anywhere else he could have taken her. Perhaps you take that into consideration.” She says as her gaze, once again, sweeps along the things I have on the bed behind me.
Everything I have prepared to pack away for our travels.
She doesn’t realize I have given Ruaan considerable consideration.
Even more so, I offered him a sliver of my trust. I believe that there is more to his reasoning, but I can understand what he has given me too.
Still, I am unsure what brought him and Colette here in the first place.
“Right, but who’s to say that he is not the one who inflicted injury on Colette to begin with?
He probably shouldn’t be left alone with them,” I grumble the thought aloud, not really speaking to Kaeleith, but she only raises an eyebrow at my words.
She steps out of the doorway as I leave the room, and I shut the door behind me.
“I can’t trust anyone easily for good reason.
Nearly everyone in my life has betrayed me, or they’re dead.
” The accusation hangs in the air between us, but I only wait a second for her to not say anything before I storm across the narrow hallway to the room Colette has been resting in. The dweller does not follow.
The first thing I notice is Ruaan’s absence.
I silently thank the gods for the small gift.
Colette is standing with a mug of steaming liquid close to her nose as she looks out of the lone window at the far end of the space.
As soon as I step over the threshold, Astraea strides from the bathing chamber.
Steam rolls out with her as she continues to fold her hair into a still-wet plait.
She stops, lips parting when she notices me, then her eyes flick to Colette, where she stands at the window.
The sight of Astraea makes my throat constrict.
How is it that a woman has such power over me, yet uses no magick to do so?
My eyes trail the length of her body. Clad in leather boots and fitted trousers that she’s seemed to prefer over dresses lately.
Her curves are accentuated and deadly in a whole new way in attire that is suited for fighting.
Leather straps and metal grommets cross her chest and abdomen, and the sheathed blades that I gifted her are tucked into them securely; her dark hair now in a loose braid slung over her shoulder.
When our eyes meet, the only thing that was missing graces her face in a hue of rosy tint as she blushes for me.
I could live in a monochromatic world if only I were able to see that color paint her cheeks just for me.
“I love this forest.” Colette says as she clears her throat.
Her voice snaps my attention away from Astraea and reminds me that we’re not alone, before more words tumble out of her awkwardly.
“You always loved the idea of being surrounded by trees. Imagine the tales they could tell—of all the lifetimes they have seen. These trees look like they have seen many lives and the stories tied to them.” A chuffed laugh comes from her as she turns just enough that I can see the small smile pulling at her lips.
A tear trails over her cheek and to her mouth.
She rolls her lips between her teeth to hide both, then turns to face us fully.
Astraea regards Colette with adoration, but it doesn’t take much studying to notice there is also hurt in those window-like eyes. Colette notices too.
“Colette, there’s a lot we need to talk about.” Astraea swallows as she lifts her chin, glancing between the two of us.