Chapter 2
SPARTA
Sonah Yahn stared at Crown Prince Lerek of Heylisia as if she’d seen a ghost.
He was a ghost.
He had to be.
Prince Lerek was murdered on his terrace in Metilai seven months ago.
And Sonah should know; she was accused—along with her sister, Terena Luca—of his murder.
Clutching the towel tight in her shaking hands, Sonah took a few tentative steps toward him.
“Prince Lerek?”
“Aye, Sonah,” he said, with the same heartbreaking smile she knew so well. “It’s me. I heard you were back here and thank the gods, I found the right tunnel exit this time.”
“Tunnel? Prince—”
He came at her so fast she gasped as he threw his arms around her in a fierce embrace. Sonah froze, then lifted a hand to his back in a feeble attempt at a hug. Her mind struggled to keep up with reality. She trembled, and Lerek’s arms tightened.
Dropping a kiss on her head before pulling back, Prince Lerek grinned at her, his brown eyes swimming with unshed tears. He swallowed a few times and chuckled.
“I didn’t think I’d see you again,” he said, his voice gruff. “Where’s Terena? Is she with you?”
Sonah’s stomach fell. She felt like throwing up. Images of Terena fighting Daris Antonius in Messene over what Sonah had told her flashed behind her eyes.
She was an idiot. And she should’ve kept her big idiot mouth shut.
“No, Prince—”
“It’s Lerek, Sonah. For the millionth time.”
“Lerek,” she said and cleared her throat. “No, Lerek. By now, she’s with the new king in the north.”
He seemed dejected at her answer. She reached out and grabbed the sleeves of his tunic. When his cheeks colored, Sonah fumbled at her towel and ducked back into the bathing chamber.
Snatching her robe from the chair near the tub, she called out apologies to the prince. After cinching the sash tight around her waist, she smoothed her hair and walked out of the room to face him.
“What happened to you? How are you not dead?”
He looked the same as he had all those months ago, except his hair was much shorter and he wore the clothes of a Spartan courtier.
Then it hit her.
Isher. Isher is dead.
Sonah shook. The blood leeched down her body and she felt cold. So horribly cold.
“Gods,” she whispered, shaking her head as the tears Lerek had held back finally fell.
Sonah choked on a sob and Lerek rushed forward once more.
He held her close as she cried, thoughts of Isher throughout the years flooding her mind, tearing at her soul.
Her knees buckled and Lerek bent with her, cradling her as she kneeled on the floor and sobbed.
At length, her trembling settled, and she hiccuped as she pulled back to look at the prince.
“Was it… was it Daris? Was it Daris Antonius that killed him?”
“No,” Lerek rushed to respond. “No. Gods, Sonah. There’s so much to tell you. I fear I don’t have time—”
“We have time!” she cried, her fingernails digging through the silk of his sleeves. “I need to know! I made a terrible mistake, Lerek, and I need to see if I can make it right!”
“Sonah, you were bathing,” Lerek said and looked pointedly at the robe barely covering her.
Sonah’s cheeks heated, and she pulled back, scrambling to her feet. She looked around frantically but Lerek turned his back.
“I’ll let you get back to your bath,” he said in a loud whisper, “but I will be back at midnight. Try not to fall asleep.”
Before she could respond, he stalked toward the large gilded armoire opposite her bed.
Sonah’s mouth dropped when she noticed the doors were open.
Her dresses were shoved to one side and a panel at the back hung open.
She gawked as he pushed the panel back and stepped inside, shutting it firmly without a backward glance.
Sonah stood rooted for a long time before she lurched forward, touching the panel that was now just the back of her armoire.
As she felt around for the seam, a loud knock sounded at her door. Frowning, Sonah ducked out and took a step toward the sitting room.
“Yes?”
“Lady Sonah, King Altos requests your presence at dinner,” the muffled voice of her guard, Jenos, replied through the thick oak.
She rushed into the sitting room and opened the door a crack. Peeking out, Sonah smiled when the guard stepped into her line of sight. “Thank you, Jenos.”
When she made to close the door, Jenos reached out, his weathered hand curled around the wood. He looked down at the marble floor before he lifted his light blue eyes at her with a frown on his lined face. “Apologies, lady, but this time you are to come dressed… appropriately. The king has guests.”
“Do you know whom he hosts?”
“Aye, lady,” he said in a low grumble as he shifted his feet.
Jenos was much older than most of the Royal Guard, and when he’d first been assigned to her, his sheer size and frightening visage had kept Sonah from befriending him.
But she’d soon realized he was little more than a giant puppy; his scarred countenance and big warrior’s body hid a soft heart.
She often wondered if King Altos knew her better than she realized.
It was clear, seeing him shuffling uncomfortably before her, whoever King Altos was entertaining was not to Jenos’s liking.
“If you cannot say, I will not force you,” Sonah said softly, and from the way he rubbed the back of his neck, Sonah knew she’d guessed correctly. Reaching out, she laid a hand on his vambrace and smiled. “Do I have time for a quick bath?”
Jenos lifted his blue gaze, his cheeks flushing deep red beneath his salt and pepper beard. “Aye, lady,” he said in a rough voice. He ran a hand over the short grey hairs atop his head.
Sonah gave him a wide smile and thanked him again before shutting the door with a soft snick of the latch.
Turning back to the large sitting area of her rooms, Sonah leaned back against the door and closed her eyes.
Dinner with the king and mystery guests.
And a midnight meeting with a dead man.
Great.
Standing tall with Jenos at her side, Sonah unclenched her hands once more. She hated how her body unconsciously betrayed her anxiety. Puffing out a breath, she pushed her shoulders back and lengthened her stride.
Jenos slid a glance at her.
“All right, lady?”
Sonah didn’t look at the warrior, but she moved closer to him. “Aye, Jenos. Thank you. Just a little… it’s been a while since I’ve worn dresses. I’m a bit uncomfortable.”
“If it’s not too bold to say,” he replied in a low voice, “you look lovely.”
Surprised, Sonah stumbled as she looked up at the old warrior. He shot his hand out and gripped her elbow so fast she knew no one watching would’ve seen her misstep. She silently thanked Altos again for Jenos’s companionship.
“Thank you,” she mumbled, then looked up at his stoic face. “Thank you, Jenos.”
He nodded without looking at her, but she saw the color creep up his neck.
They arrived before the doors to the king’s private dining room and Sonah blinked. She’d only ever been in this room for dinners alone with King Altos. When he had entertained guests in the past while she’d been in residence, it was always in the main hall next to the throne room.
The doors opened, and Sonah took a deep breath. When she caught sight of the king seated at the head of the large table, she strode in, chin up and shoulders stiff.
Her eyes shifted to the man who rose at her entrance.
Sonah balked.
Her throat tightened and she took a reflexive step back, stumbling into Jenos.
A woman she knew very well sat regally next to the man on the king’s left, her eyes the same piercing dark brown Sonah had seen every year at the abbey for the first ten of her life before being sent to the White Palace.
She looked away from Sonah, her eyes falling to her plate.
The man standing stiffly beside the king, wearing a dark velvet doublet with a high collared tunic and satin breeches, stole her breath. His pale face looked even more colorless as he stared back at her through small brown eyes beneath a heavy brow.
Duke and Duchess Ovenno.
The people who’d pretended to be her parents her whole life.
Come back to me.
Daris Antonius shook his head for what felt like the hundredth time that day, pacing the small study he used as his office within Arestia Castle.
He’d had another awful night; sleep eluded him until the small hours of the morning when he was roused by his lieutenant, Jason Sotoris.
The same dream he’d had since that day in Seleste a month ago haunted his sleep last night.
Terena wrapped in his arms, sated after a night of passion.
The last night before everything had gone to hells.
In his dream, she nestled against his neck, her lips brushing the whorl of his ear as she whispered those words, over and over.
Come back to me.
Daris had taken to working himself to the bone during sparring sessions or out on scouting missions so as to fall into bed too tired to dream.
It failed every time.
Muttering to the gods about how much he needed to rest without Terena harassing his sleep, Daris stopped his pacing to scrub a hand down his face as he awaited the arrival of King Altos.
Rubbing absently at the damnable ache in his chest he couldn’t seem to soothe, he paced the confines of his study.
Compared to the king’s rooms and the rest of the castle, this room was bare.
There was a large round table to hold his maps and papers, and a small hutch where he kept some of his personal books and items. There were only enough chairs for himself, the king and one of the other officers in Altos’s armies that would sometimes occupy the room.
No curtain decorated the lone window overlooking the training yard and barracks.
The king had told Daris they’d meet after his dinner with Duke and Duchess Ovenno.
Daris had fumed at being surprised by their visit, having had only a few days notice from the Spartans patrolling the eastern border.
Even then, the king had warned him to say nothing to anyone until their arrival, especially Sonah.
Not that Sonah was speaking to him.
She’d made her opinion of him known—loudly—most of the trip back from Seleste.
He’d tried to see her once more while at the castle, to no avail.
The handful of messages he’d sent to her rooms were returned unopened and with messages of her own that made Jenos, her guard, color and stutter when he’d been forced to repeat them.
Daris cursed. He resumed his pacing, his thoughts once again occupied with the duke and his unexpected visit. Daris had warned King Altos there was no benefit to Sparta for the duke’s visit. The only motive Daris thought made sense was Duke Ovenno planned to use Sonah. For what, though?
A knock sounded at his door, and before Daris could answer, his lieutenant, Jason, entered. His hair was mussed and clothes mud-spattered. He scowled as he caught Daris’s eye and shut the door before cursing under his breath.
“What is it?”
“Heylisia’s legion from Elis has crossed into Ibros. They’re headed south.”
Daris roared, swiping a hand across the table. Paper scattered and rained onto the floor with his uncharacteristic loss of control over his emotions.
Fuming, he ran a hand through his hair, cursing when it snagged over the ties to his eyepatch. Turning away from Jason, he adjusted it before glancing at the Liodari. “Find Captains Athanasi and Leonidas. I want them here within the next ten minutes.”
“Aye.”
“Jason.”
His lieutenant turned back.
“Ready the men to ride out. I’ll speak to the king after his dinner. I have a feeling Duke Ovenno travelled with the legion. And if I’m right, he’s once again sided with Emperor Solon. I need you and the men ready in case they’re here for Sonah.”
Jason stilled at Sonah’s name but recovered quickly, nodding as he strode for the door.
Daris closed his eye.
He was in for a long night.