42. Kyros #3
“She—has no claim on either throne.” I breathe, only a hint of the triumph I feel coming out with the words.
My voice is just loud enough that Astraea can hear, but the information for now stays between the three of us.
Our eyes clash. “It’s you.” I tell her as I pass the parchment to her.
Astraea scans the paper quickly, and I see her fingers tremble more noticeably as she realizes what it means.
“I am the true heir of the Diemos throne?” She asks, still staring down at the parchment dubiously and just as quiet.
“Would you like to address your people, or would you like me to introduce you—my Queen?” Her blue eyes jump to the darkness in mine.
I know the look I am devouring her with is completely inappropriate, but the fact that life has given us both so many proverbial holes to climb from, this moment is finally something that is not only working in our favor but should be celebrated.
She is the rightful Queen of Diemos, and I am the rightful King of Eathian.
A bonded pair. Together we can create a whole new reality for the people of both kingdoms.
“I need to address my people.” She swallows, and standing a little straighter, she looks out at the people who have had their eyes trained on us since I summoned their attention, and probably even before that.
“You have been lied to—as have I.” She says, clearing her throat and looking up from the paper in her hand.
“Most of you may not know who I am, but some of you may know me as Astraea Casimir, Princess of the stolen kingdom of Eathian, but—” Whispers of contempt begin to roll through the room like a gust of desert wind over the dunes—slow but powerful.
She doesn’t let it deter her, though. She raises her chin higher and takes a fortifying breath.
Again, outwardly radiating confidence. It’s something that has been ingrained in her since she was a child.
She had to hold a standard of coldness to show the world because it’s what her father taught her.
What Connard taught her. The man who had been pretending to be her father all these years.
Molding her for whatever sick reasons he had.
Folding my hand around hers, I let my gaze roam over the faces as they morph, likely thinking they understand what is happening here.
I let my brows grow heavy, brushing my thumb over the back of her hand in what I hope is a reassuring show of support as I glower at those who make her feel uncomfortable.
“I am not my father, nor do I condone his ways.” She tries to continue but is cut off.
“KING CONNARD KILLED MY FAMILY!” A young woman with chestnut brown hair calls out above the whispers. Her anguished yell opening a gate of fury.
"And my husband!” Another one shouted.
“Monster!”
“No king—a tyrant!”
“HE STOLE EVERYTHING—RUINED ALL HE TOUCHED!” The whispers that were once hushed begin to rise into a frenzy of enraged shouts and jeers.
“You need to control this.” Shayd grinds out, jaw clenched tight, but I don't need to do anything except squeeze my twin flame’s hand in support.
I have complete confidence in the woman at my side, and while usually I would step in, she's right.
Control is everything I ever wanted in my life because I felt like it was the biggest thing that was taken from me.
I want to give this control back to her.
She stays silent so long that I think she might not say anything at all, but she does what I least expected.
She slowly turns around, giving the crowded room her back, and pulls her hair to the front of her shoulder. More mumblings fill the room before Astraea’s voice commands its silence.
“Does this look like I had a life free of torment from the man you all loathe?” She bellows above their discussions.
The voices begin to fall quiet. “Look at me for the proof that I too had suffered at his hand!” The room is silent as the darkened markings that decorate her scarred skin lift into extended wings of shadow on either side of her spine.
Astraea lifts her arms, pushing them out to match the magick under her control.
She looks breathtaking. A devastation manifested into reality in the form of a fallen dark goddess.
Her eyes meet mine as she sweeps them sideways in my direction.
Keep going. I mouth, urging her on.
“The usurper king, Connard Casimir, was a man who stole more than a kingdom. He stole lives, the way we lived them, and the way deaths came for some. He was a vile man.” She turns back around, dropping her arms to hang to the sides of her stunning black dress.
“Connard Casimir was not my father, but someone your stand-in queen was working for when she stole the Diemos throne from my mother.” Shocked gasps fill the air.
“I am the princess born to the rightful Queen, Mina Lazuro!”
The large throne room door creaks loudly as it closes behind the other woman I have been waiting to arrive. Stormy midnight blue eyes meet mine, heated humiliation simmering in their darkness.