Chapter 2 #2
He should have told me everything, but regardless I had loved him recklessly and impulsively enough to give up my life for his happiness.
And yet, what I felt for him was only a fraction of how he loved me.
His love had withstood four centuries of death and torment.
He hadn’t shown up in Warrich that day to retrieve the queen.
There was no mysterious prophecy he’d been trying to fulfill.
He hadn’t been following the orders of either power-hungry sorcerer.
He had simply come for his long-lost wife.
After four hundred years of waiting, he was still willing to give me up if it made me happy.
I was still angry and terrified that he was who he was. I couldn’t imagine how many people he’d killed or the horrendous things he’d done and seen, and I kept reminding myself of this.
He’s not good.
He lied.
He’s the enemy’s son.
He didn’t tell you who he was.
He didn’t tell you who you were to him.
It should have been enough to make me hate him, but it wasn’t. Gods , I tried, but stronger than the urge to hate him was the desire to see him, and most crippling was the fear that I never would again. I knew that everything he’d done, he’d done thinking of me .
Gavin Smyth had burrowed himself so deeply into my soul, not even all twelve gods could tear him out.
After the first month of healing, I’d let myself think of him.
His strength and protection wrapped around me was my favorite memory, and I held it close to my heart like it was a sacred secret.
Despite everything, I stopped trying to deny that in his arms was the best place I’d been since waking up ten months ago.
By the time I started breakfast, Damond was in the garden. He insisted I focus on training, not chores, and that menial tasks were “no longer my responsibility.”
When I needed to offload my feelings, I talked to Shera.
I knew she would never tell my secrets. I’d gotten quite good at one-sided conversations.
If she understood my words, she also knew way too much about me.
I knew Gavin gave her to me not just for protection, but as a companion. She loved me with or without a crown.
I looked outside to see the morning sun fighting to break through the clouds. Ice and wind magic would be my focus today. After lunch, hopefully Damond would spar with me.
While tightening my boot laces, I caught a glimpse of the calendar nailed to the wall and ignored the pit in my stomach. I didn’t need a reminder of the day that was coming. I’d picked it myself.
I planned to travel southwest into Avendrel, to the Barracks just north of the Caves, where Elias would be training this year’s group of new fighters.
I wanted to participate, not only to prove myself to Elias, but to assess for myself what kind of people I was about to commit my life and loyalty to.
Gavin had left me with Damond after my death in Brinnea. He also left books with pages upon pages of drawings of strikes, stances, and more fighting techniques than I dreamt existed. For the past four months, I’d studied them religiously.
Damond wasn’t a lethal warrior. He called himself a pacifist, but Gavin had taught him, too.
He’d been young when his parents were murdered by the Butcher under Molochai’s blood oath.
Soon after, Gavin had trained Damond to defend himself.
The two of us often sparred until neither of us could stand straight.
But I couldn’t hide here and spar with him forever. Molochai was still looking for a way to take my power, since killing me didn’t work.
Blood, pain, and screams gave way to soothing night when a warm, wet, sandpaper tongue on my cheek woke me from a nightmare of Molochai slicing through my torso from breast to navel.
Through the dark, I found a pair of shining, violet eyes.
Shera’s claws flexed gently against the bare skin of my collarbone to make sure I was awake.
She mewled at me gently.
I struck a match in the dark and lit the candle on my bedside table, casting the room in a warm, comforting glow. Using Helios or Aesta’s power would have been faster and easier, but my body felt too on edge to wield. I wouldn’t risk burning the cabin down or blinding myself.
Forcing steady breaths, I fell back onto my pillow and threw my arm over my eyes. No matter how many powers I mastered, how fast I ran, how strong I became, I couldn’t escape that night or the truth of who I was.
Only when Shera nudged the back of my hand with her nose did I realize my fingers were digging into the long, pink scar down my abdomen where Molochai had cut me open before tearing out my heart.
“Thank you.” I relaxed and scratched Shera between her tufted ears the way she liked. She blinked slowly, her violet eyes a soothing balm to my tension. How could an animal so lethal take such care with me? She was a miracle. “What would I do without you?”
Shera stretched alongside me and nuzzled into my hip. With spring in bloom, the weather was mild, but her heat provided much needed comfort while I slept. This bed was warmer and softer than my bed of blankets in Warrich, but somehow, it felt cold. I hated sleeping alone more than ever.
Shera’s purr swelled and grumbled as I rubbed the cloudlike fur on her chest. Her paws had grown to be the size of my hands. Her claws extended and retracted, gently kneading around my forearm. Occasionally she would leave a scratch, but the discomfort was worth it to ensure her happiness.
Outside the window, distant pink hues above the dense canopy of trees told me it was nearly dawn.
Light flickered beneath the closed door of my bedroom.
Damond didn’t sleep much, but it was still odd for him to be awake at this hour.
I climbed out of bed and padded across the wooden floor with Shera in tow.
He sat on the sofa, transfixed by the fire beneath the hearth. When he heard me approach, he left his quiet reverie and looked up. “Night terror?”
I nodded. Damond knew better than to ask for details.
“Why are you up?” I tightened my sweater around my front and sat down, legs crossed beside him.
He was silent for a while. “I’m worried,” he admitted.
“About… him?”
“No.” His light brown eyes softened. “About you .”
But I looked away, in no mood to hear his objections. While dropping my gaze to my lap, I noticed his left hand was wrapped in a cloth bandage.
I gestured to it. “What happened?”
Damond scoffed at his bandage and ran his uninjured hand through his curly hair. “Cutting vegetables. Wasn’t paying attention. It’s just a cut.”
“Let me.” I reached, but he pulled away.
“No, Ary.”
Leaning forward, I insisted, “If it’s just a cut, it won’t take much power.”
“You need your strength.”
“But—”
“No.”
“Damond, why?—”
“You know why.” The words sternly snapped out of him, uncharacteristic of my lighthearted, witty friend. “I made a promise and I’m keeping it.”
Gavin made Damond vow not to let me use my healing powers on him, or anyone, unless a life was at stake. Of what I’d discovered thus far, my other powers didn’t take much out of me. For some reason, healing drained me like losing blood.
Defeated, I slumped in my seat and said, half joking, “I thought I was in charge, anyway.” The tap of my fingers on the wooden arm of the sofa echoed in the cabin. “Since I’m the queen and all.”
Damond pursed his lips and gave me a chiding stare.
“To some of us, you’ll always be more than the queen.
” He picked up his coffee. “Besides, if he comes back and finds out you’re injured or weakened or remotely inconvenienced because of me…
My head’s too pretty to be chopped off by the Butcher, don’t you agree? ”
His levity was lost on me.
“ If he comes back.”
Damond’s smirk faded. “Are you sure you still want to do this?”
“I have to go,” I said, even though staying hidden away with Damond in this cabin sounded more appealing some days.
Hide in plain sight , he’d written. You’ll figure out how.
The obedient student I was, I heeded his advice and decided to go as someone else.
Another of my twelve abilities was camouflage thanks to Autumna, Goddess of the Hunt.
The power wasn’t advanced. I could change only my hair and eye color, but it was enough to hide my identity in the presence of those who’d never seen me before.
Once I changed my appearance, it stuck like a tattoo until I willfully changed it back, so the chances of slipping up were slim.
“Are you absolutely positive?”
“My people deserve to be free,” I told him, staring into the fire. “I will do what I have to do to ensure they are. And I’ll do it as one of them.”
My friend sighed in defeat. “Some of them may be paranoid and unstable thinking their queen is gone. They could be dangerous?—”
“ I am dangerous.” I knew I sounded childish, but it was true. “I’m ready.”
“I’m not doubting that you’re ready. I’m nervous about them . All of their hope has been in their queen.”
“And they will have her! I will reveal myself eventually. I will be their queen.” I stood to my feet, equally unwavering in my decision as I was terrified of failing. “But I will prove myself first. I won’t be Simeon’s puppet. I’m doing this my way, and I will leave in two days.”
I left my other reasoning out, because I felt like I was betraying both Gavin and Damond by even thinking about it. But I couldn’t consider marrying Elias Winterton until I knew who he truly was. The only feasible way to discover that was by getting close to him when he didn’t know I was his queen.
Damond opened his mouth to object, his tender eyes sad. He only feared for me like the dear friend he was. It didn’t matter if he challenged me again. I was going. I needed to show them, and myself, that I could lead, and I needed to know what kind of alliance I was marrying into.
Finally, Damond nodded in agreement. “Two days.”