Chapter 55
KALLIE
Kallie stood beside Graeson, her gaze scanning the faces in the throne room. When the two of them arrived, everyone had already been waiting, including the queen.
Wearing a black satin robe tied around her waist, Cetia sat on her throne. Thin feathers lined the collar and cuffs of the elegant robe. Every time she made even the slightest movement, the feathers danced in the air. Her straight, raven-black hair flowed over her shoulders. Despite the late hour, the queen looked as regal as ever. The tension was taut as the queen tapped her sharp nails along the right arm of the throne.
The guard standing to the queen's right took a step forward and announced, "Graeson Osiros and Kalisandre Nadarean, Your Majesty."
Kallie stumbled as the guard said her name, a name she had no right to bear.
An awkward silence slipped through the room as everyone else registered it as well. Dani, who stood beside Terin, rolled her hands into tightly clenched fists as her jaw muscles popped.
Sensing the change in the room, Graeson squeezed Kallie's hand, and she let his presence ground her.
"Nice of the two of you to join us finally," Cetia remarked.
"Your Majesty," Graeson said, tipping his head before leading Kallie to stand beside Terin.
When they approached, Kallie heard Dani say, "You are no Nadarean."
"Danisinia," Terin hissed. "Now is not the time."
Dani huffed but returned her focus to the queen.
Terin peered at Kallie, a question sitting within his gaze.
Kallie offered him a tight smile. As she was about to reassure him she was all right, the doors opened, and everyone turned their attention to the group of warriors marching into the throne room.
The Tetrians wore their fighting leathers with dozens of throwing knives strapped across their chests. As the group marched down the center aisle, their hands rested on the hilts of the swords hanging on their hips.
Kallie tried to peer past the warriors in the front to see who they were guarding, but she could not glimpse the visitors.
Still, her heart hammered in her chest, an uneasiness crawling over her skin as they waited.
At the end of the aisle, one guard stepped forward and tipped her head to the queen. "Your Majesty, we found these three near the border. They claim to be seeking refuge."
"Bring them forward," Cetia said with an impatient wave.
Three other guards shifted at the command and pushed the refugees forward.
A chill crept over Kallie's arms as she observed the three prisoners. Even though their heads were covered with brown sacks, there was a strange air of familiarity to them.
They stood slightly hunched as exhaustion weighed their limbs down. They wore tattered clothing that reeked of the swamp and woods, the scent so poignant it even reached Kallie, who stood yards away. Two of the refugees were over a foot taller than the third. Long blond hair peeked beneath the hem of the sack top the woman's head. She twisted her fingers together, her wrists chained.
A sickening feeling twisted in her gut. But before Kallie could identify it, the guards pressed down on the three refugees' shoulders, forcing them to kneel. One of the larger individuals fought the guard behind him, but he quickly lost the fight. His knees hit the ground with a thump .
Once all three were finally kneeling, the guards behind them ripped the sacks off their heads.
Kallie barely gave the two men any attention, her attention immediately snapping to the woman kneeling on the floor. Her blonde hair was strewn across her face, and her hazel eyes squinted at the change of light.
Before she could think otherwise, rage propelled Kallie forward.
Shouts filled the air, but she didn't give them attention; they were a blur in her ears, nonsensical white noise.
Someone reached for her, but Kallie didn't stop--she couldn't. She slipped through every hand that tried to pull her back, that threatened to stop her. The world around her blurred. She could only see one thing at the epicenter.
"You traitorous bitch!" Kallie screamed as she tackled Myra to the ground. Her hands wrapped around her former best friend's throat.
Myra gasped, inhaling a sharp breath as Kallie stripped the oxygen from her throat.
With wide, fear-filled eyes, Myra tried to scramble away. She attempted to force her chained hands up and push Kallie back.
She tried to speak, but Kallie didn't care to hear the poisonous words spill from Myra's mouth.
Tears spilled from Myra's hazel eyes, wet streaks cutting through the layer of dirt covering her face. But Kallie had no sympathy for the woman who had lied to her for as long as they had known each other.
She tightened her grip, and her vision blurred.
For years, Kallie had been blinded by Myra's feigned compassion and kindness. For years, she had taken solace in the friendship Myra had offered her. Kallie had confided in her and trusted her. She would have done anything for the woman beneath her.
But now Kallie knew the truth.
It had all been a ruse, a trap.
A way to weave a false story and further the king's endeavors.
It wasn't until water droplets splashed upon Myra's face that Kallie realized she was crying. Still, she didn't stop.
She was hurting, and she wanted Myra not only to feel the emotions consuming her because of the gift that nearly destroyed Kallie but also because Kallie wished it so. And more than anything, Kallie wanted Myra to hurt, too. To feel the same pain she had every time Domitius had pushed her beyond her body's limits, when he had bruised her wrists and broken her ribs.
She felt someone's arm wrap around her stomach, and she struggled against them. But even though she fought against them, Kallie was lifted into the air as someone else pried her hands from Myra's neck.
Someone said Kallie's name.
Again and again as they tried to slip through the fury overtaking her.
Her gift stirred within the pit of her stomach, beckoning her. Its honeyed taste coated her tongue, begging her to use the power the gods granted her.
Begging her to succumb to its pull.
Kallie struggled against the person as the tears rolled down her face with no sign of stopping.
The threads of her gift danced, rising higher and higher.
Through her tear-stained vision, she saw someone assisting Myra to sit up. The handmaiden took a deep breath. Her pale, shaking hand rubbed her throat, which was now a vibrant shade of red where Kallie's hands had been.
"Kalisandre," the person holding her repeated, more urgently this time.
Her feet hit the ground, and she was immediately spun around, the person's grip on her firm as her entire body shook with rage.
Silver eyes peered down at her, a beacon.
"Breathe, Kal," Graeson whispered.
"She--she did this," Kallie hissed through the tears still streaming down her face.
His thumb ran across her left wrist as he held her steady. "She is a victim just like you are." Graeson pressed his palm to her face and gently swiped away the tears with his thumb. "You are better than this. You are better than him."
Kallie shook her head, the ghost of tears sticking to her skin. "No, I am not."
"Yes, you are," Graeson whispered as the chaos surrounding them slowly died down. "We need to hear them out. Then the queen will decide what to do with them." He wiped away more tears, his gaze never leaving hers.
Kallie bit down on her tongue and took a deep breath.
"We can leave if you wish," he offered quietly.
She only shook her head. She wanted--no, needed to hear what they had to say. She would not run from this.
Myra would not touch her again.
She would never give anyone that kind of power.
Graeson nodded and weaved his fingers between hers. He squeezed her hand once, and Kallie exhaled, straightening as she turned to face Myra. Only then did she process who the two men with Myra were.
Rian and his guard, Laurince, sat beside her. They all looked like they were dragged to the Beneath and had crawled their way out.
In the time that passed since the wedding, Laurince had gained a new, gnarly scar, which spread across his neck as if an animal had attacked him. Rian was nearly unrecognizable kneeling between Myra and Laurince. His red hair was muted and covered in dirt and grime. His brown skin was dull as were his soft green eyes. He wore a stained, tattered cotton shirt.
Rian's attention flicked to where Graeson and Kallie's hands were intertwined, and guilt twisted in Kallie's stomach.
Sensing her tension as her fingers twitched, Graeson loosened his hand. Kallie only held on tighter, though, and she could have sworn she heard Graeson release a soft exhale, his shoulders dropping slightly as she did.
"Let's be civil, shall we?" Cetia said, calling their attention to her. Her chin rested atop her fist, her features unfazed. She waved a nonchalant hand in the air. "King Rian, please do explain why the entire world thinks you are deathly ill."
"When my home was attacked," Rian began, a cold gaze slipping across his face as he glared at the Pontians standing on either side of Kallie, "I was injured. I had taken a blade to my side and was rushed to the infirmary during the chaos that befell my kingdom."
Graeson shifted beside Kallie, and she looked at him quizzically from the corner of her eye. He offered her only a small shrug that was otherwise unnoticeable. Although she swore she saw a hint of a smirk twitching at the corner of his mouth.
"Mayhem was already filling the streets by then, and I had lost so much blood. The pain was so great that it was hard for me to process what was happening around me. I recognized my brother, though, as his guards carried me out of the temple before I blacked out.
"But when I awoke, I wasn't in the infirmary, at least not the one inside the castle. This place was much darker, colder. One moment, a healer and Sebastian were peering down at me, and then the next, I could hear the creak of a carriage's wheels. I tried to ask someone where we were going, but no one would tell me anything. The next thing I knew, I was strapped to a table."
Myra squirmed beside him, her shoulders trembling.
Beside Rian, Laurince cleared his throat and continued for him.
"I had searched the temple for the king, but I couldn't find him in the chaos of the fire and the panic. Rumors quickly spread around the castle that my king had suffered a grave injury. Some had seen him brought in by a couple of guards, unconscious and half-dead. I scoured the castle, searching for him despite his brother's assurances that he was being cared for.
"Something had felt off, though. I didn't know what at the time, of course. All I knew was that I needed to find Rian. A couple of days later, an unmarked carriage was leaving the castle, and before the curtain fell, I spotted Sebastian. Without thinking, I followed after him--all the way to Ardentol."
Kallie shifted on her feet, nausea filling her stomach at the mention of her former home.
"I impersonated one of the Ardentolian guards and found my way into the castle. That's when I discovered the truth." Laurince paused, his gaze dropping to the floor, unfocused and haunted.
"Which is?" Cetia prompted after a moment passed.
"Beneath the king's nose, Sebastian has been leading an experiment."
Medenia stepped forward, her hand on her stomach. "Do you speak of the creatures in the tunnels beneath the temple?" she pressed.
Laurince nodded.
"And you had no idea this was happening in your own kingdom?" Medenia asked, her gaze falling upon Rian next.
Rian's features contorted in shame, but he quickly steeled his expression. "Do you know everything that happens in your kingdom?" he shot back.
Medenia's lips parted, but then she snapped her mouth shut. Everyone knew it was nearly impossible to know all the happenings in one's kingdom, despite how much one paid attention.
Rian shifted and continued, "I wish I could say I was completely ignorant of the experiments, but that would be a lie."
Medenia scoffed in disgust, her lip curling.
"Yet you come here seeking refuge despite knowing these atrocities?" Cetia asked.
"It is not that simple, Your Majesty," Rian said with a shake of his head. "Ever since I was little, I have been fascinated with dragons." He paused and glanced at Kallie; pain soaked his expression. After a second, he looked away and pressed forward. "A week or so before my wedding, my brother said he had a wedding gift for me near the Borganian border. I thought nothing of it at the time and rode out with him and a group of guards. When we arrived, he revealed he was leading a project to recreate the legendary beasts.
"At first, I laughed at him, for how could one create a dragon? But then he showed me his gift: their first semi-successful prototype, a drakonis. A creature created from wolves bearing some of the characteristics of a dragon. But as he was showing the drakonis to me, we were attacked. My brother and I ran as the guards held the invaders off."
Rian's gaze grew distant as he stared at a spot on the ground.
He shook his head. "I do not know what happened to the monster."
"The monster is doing quite well, actually," Medenia said, tipping her chin up.
"You--you've seen it?" Rian sputtered.
"We freed her," Graeson said, his cold voice ripping through the throne room.
The two men glared at each other, and a ripe tension riffled through the room. Only when the queen spoke did Graeson and Rian finally release each other.
"So, you discovered this was happening, and you did what? Nothing?" Cetia asked.
Rian blanched at the queen's straightforwardness. "There--there wasn't time. I promised to deal with it after the wedding, but..." He lifted his bound hands.
"What brings you here, then? Why were you in Ardentol?" Medenia asked.
"We came here in search of asylum. My kingdom has been overtaken by my brother, and the experiments he and Domitius have been working on have evolved," Rian said, grimacing.
"Domitius has been working on his own project for decades, and now the two have teamed up," Laurince added.
"Elaborate," Cetia said, her tone more clipped.
Laurince peered at Myra from the corner of his eye, and she shifted beside the king. She took a deep breath, her chest rising. Then she straightened and tipped up her chin.
"The experiments are two-fold. The first combines Domitius's research with Sebastian's advancements." Myra dropped her gaze to her hands that dug into her thighs, creasing the fabric of her cotton trousers.
She gulped. And when she raised her head, Kallie could have sworn she saw the faint trace of a tear.
A drop of sympathy rose in Kallie's throat, but she swallowed it.
"Domitius has found a way to createhumanoid creatures that follow his command," she breathed.
"And the second?"
"The second--"
The doors flew open, and a flushed guard ran through the throne room, their boots clapping on the floor.
"Your Majesty," the guard called out in between heavy breaths.
"What is the meaning of this interruption?" Cetia thundered.
"I--I bring a letter."
"A letter from whom?" she demanded.
"The King of Ardentol."
A cold sweep of tension ripped through the room. Kallie's legs shook, and Graeson wrapped an arm around her, keeping her steady.
"What does it say?" Cetia snapped, her patience having run thin.
The guard quickly scanned the room, hesitating.
"Well?" Cetia commanded, her hand gripping the arm of her throne.
The letter shook in the guard's hand, and the woman swallowed hard. "The King of Ardentol has declared war upon Pontia and Tetria for the abduction of King Rian and Princess Kalisandre."