Chapter 3
CHAPTER THREE
She was in a dark room—so dark she couldn’t see. There wasn’t a single light, no windows or doors—just an all-consuming void dominating the space.
Isolated. Trapped. Alone.
She tried to scream for help, but no sound came.
No one knew she was here. No one was coming for her.
Alone.
Alone.
Alone.
Helaina shot up from bed, forcing air back into her lungs with a gasping inhale.
She hated that dream. It had come to her more and more in recent nights. A manifestation of her worst fears—of being completely secluded and forgotten.
She looked toward the window where a crack of sunlight peeked through. It was already morning. She slid from her bed and walked to her vanity to assess the damage from yet another night of broken sleep.
She sat down, touching a face that was so unfamiliar.
There was barely a trace of color left on her pale skin.
She pursed her lips to the side as she started running her thin fingers through the intricate knots of her toffee-colored hair.
It had been ages since she had used a comb.
Although her appearance had dulled, her shining silver eyes remained vibrant.
At least that was one trait that remained the same—one feature that she recognized in that mirror.
She had been sitting in this very chair seven nights ago, when her handmaiden, Laurelai, had burst into her room.
“It’s your brother, Your Highness. He checked into the Red Tail Inn two nights ago .
. . He hasn’t checked out.” Laurelai had then explained how to get there, even wrote down directions for Helaina as she dressed and grabbed a satchel of coins.
She had sworn she would never use the escape tunnels again, but she had to get to him. She owed him that.
Of course no one recognized her that night.
Helaina was a ghost in her own kingdom. She had been too worried about Adriel to be overwhelmed by the confusing streets, the unfamiliar people.
But on the way back, she had been all too aware of every person she passed, every stranger.
Her hooded cloak offered little comfort that night, and her heartbeat hadn’t settled until she saw the faces of her trusted personal guards again.
She remembered Cedric and Teirn sprinting out to meet her. She had slipped away from them once again, and it left them furious. She didn’t blame them. If the king found out she had gone missing that night, she doubted his reaction would have been pleasant.
Once her guards saw the wagon and what it carried, the anger on their faces melted into unrelenting pity. The two soldiers intercepted the prince and carried him to his chambers.
Because of Helaina, her parents didn’t have to find their eldest son in an unsavory beer parlor. Because of her, he was discovered in his home.
That scene, how she found him, Helaina would carry that weight alone. Her parents had been through enough.
A knock at the door stole her attention, bringing her thoughts back to the present.
Men in familiar maroon cloaks and iron armor stepped inside.
“The queen wants you to join her for breakfast,” Cedric said, offering her a somber look that his partner, Teirn, seemed to replicate. The two of them did that so often now, treating her like she might wilt and die if they looked at her the wrong way.
Helaina hated that.
She stretched her arms above her head and forced a cheerful tone into her words. “Well, let’s not keep her waiting.”
“Laina, put that book down and eat something. You’re skin and bones,” Queen Jayda chided from across the dining table. “It’s not very attractive.”
Helaina’s head snapped up. The queen’s face lacked any concern. She was simply scrutinizing her daughter’s appearance—again.
“Your hovering is beginning rather early today, isn’t it?” Helaina’s eyes narrowed, finding her mother’s judgmental ones. When the queen said nothing, Helaina returned her attention to her reading.
Since Adriel’s death, what was left of her family had completely disintegrated. The remaining royal family had divided, falling into their individual miseries.
For an unexpected death, seven days would be nothing, barely any time to grieve a loss.
Yet this tragedy was one Helaina was all too prepared for.
She had mourned Adriel for two years. Ever since all the good parts of him died the night they buried their sister.
He had tried to drown out his guilt, blaming himself for losing Krysta.
She knew because the same guilt gutted her each and every day.
Helaina had tried tirelessly to bring him back from his grief.
She had failed. Failed him—failed them both.
Now Adriel, too, was gone. Queen Jayda had become a hollow shell, only speaking to Helaina when she had a cruel comment. Helaina was convinced she invited her one remaining child to these meals just to assess her, to ensure she wasn’t at risk of losing a third.
That thought made Helaina regret lashing out moments ago.
“I . . . I’m sorry,” she backtracked out of guilt.
The queen’s scrutinizing gaze turned grief-stricken.
“Hm.” It was the only reply Jayda offered as she tapped her long nails on the polished wood.
At least the queen continued to acknowledge her, in a vapid sort of way.
King Oren didn’t speak to her at all anymore.
The only hint he was still alive was the occasional clash of things being thrown in his chambers, followed by the scurrying feet of servants to clean up his mess.
No one’s grief held a candle to that of the king.
He hadn’t even attended the intimate burial.
Only Helaina and her mother watched as the priest recited the ceremonial words.
Oh Nedos, God of Life and Light, may you guide our lost son of Ures home.
Bring this child to his eternal resting place.
Safely guide his mortal soul to the ether, where he may find peace.
In his name we pray.
Both women tossed a handful of soil atop Adriel’s decorated wooden casket.
That was it. There were no tributes, no extravagant speeches or public announcements. Just a few words from an elderly holy man and a plot in the family burial ground.
Helaina hoped her ancestral god, Ures, was there to guide him that day. That their God of Iron and War took pity on her brother and what he had endured. She prayed Adriel would be granted his place in the ether, where his mind could be clear again, and Krysta would be there, waiting for him.
Helaina examined Queen Jayda’s slender face, which dipped into a perfectly pointed V, her blond hair pulled into a flawless braid like always. She still looked so graceful despite her many sorrows.
“I’ll eat a little later.” Helaina tried to salvage the conversation. “I promise.”
It was a pitiful lie.
After that awful night when Krysta was ripped from this world, Helaina’s eating habits, or lack thereof, were her only way of latching on to some pretense of control in her life.
The queen gave a barely perceptible nod of that pointed chin, then continued staring out the window toward the courtyard.
Helaina hadn’t inherited her mother’s uncommon beauty; those traits were given to Krysta. She also didn’t possess the midnight hair and strong jawlines that belonged to the Ironblood men.
The late prince’s list of accomplishments had also separated him from his youngest sister.
Even in his early youth, countless rulers and nobles had come to know Adriel.
He had forged alliances and created many truces alongside their father.
Foolish battles over land and borders became a thing of the past because of Adriel, and his invitations to attend negotiations.
Creston, the coastal kingdom to the south, and its western neighbor, Vrasta, ceased their decades of rivalry.
The Mirrored Deserts to the far west were allowed to trade goods again in exchange for offering their armies if they were ever called upon.
Alliances had become more important than any territorial dispute.
Because a greater enemy was making itself known in Lynor.
The eastward lands had always harbored ancient monsters of great wrath. History taught that the gods had grown so weary of warring among themselves that they proposed the creation of a mortal realm to bridge the oppressive divide.
Brahm, God of Creation, had made the mortals.
Adonna, Goddess of the Hunt, contributed her many types of animals.
Nedos gave Lynor its sun and Kydon gifted his seas.
The Hell Gods made malevolent beings, but they had never wandered past the dreadful peaks of the Ash Cliff Mountains before.
That barrier had been placed by Brahm himself to split the territories between east and west—between man and monster.
As ominous as those mountains appeared, they were there for protection.
Yet, two decades ago, that reliable protection began to wither.
Since then, there had been occurrences, reports of indescribable things crossing the barrier to hunt the humans and even the fae folk inhabiting Lynor.
When the attacks began, King Matthias of Azaros, the ruler of the fae, had come in response to Adriel’s call, traveling from his northern kingdom to visit Keles.
It was the first time any Azarosian royal had visited human lands in centuries.
Because of Adriel, that gathering resulted in the first treaty between human and fae.
She knew now that visit had meant so much more than a summons for peace.
Her sister, Krysta, had been a different kind of extraordinary.
Not in the political sense like her brother.
It was her radiance that left a lasting impression.
If Helaina was being honest with herself, it had annoyed her at times.
She grew up loving her older sister, but there was always a bit of jealousy there too.
How could you not envy Krysta’s honey-golden locks and her almond-colored eyes?
Helaina regretted that foolish jealousy now.