Chapter 22
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
As Alethea gradually surfaced from the depths of unconsciousness, she became aware of her familiar surroundings.
The bed beneath her felt both soft and firm, the linens cool against her skin.
It was the same bed she’d risen from that very morning, but now the sun had long set, and night settled over the castle like a heavy blanket.
At first, she thought she was alone. The silence in the room was palpable, broken only by the occasional crackle of embers in the hearth.
Every inch of her body screamed, as if each muscle and bone had been strained to its limit.
Every movement sent sharp protests through her nerves, and even the simple act of attempting to sit up felt monumental.
She found it near impossible, her limbs heavy and unresponsive.
She tried to recall the events that had led her to this state, but her mind felt foggy, memories obscured by a haze of exhaustion. Alethea tried again to move, to pull herself to the edge of the bed, when a sharp voice halted her.
“I wouldn’t, if I were you.”
His presence loomed from across the room, a daunting silhouette in the dim light of the hearth, casting eerie shadows on the walls. Nakir’s posture was tense as he sat rigid in the blue velvet armchair, elbows on his knees, hands folded before him.
The sight of him there, brooding in the shadows, struck Alethea with a paralyzing sense of dread. His eyes, usually warm and understanding, were now depths of darkness.
For the first time in a long time, she felt fear in his presence. Her palms were already sweating, heart thudding painfully against her chest.
They sat in silence for some time, Alethea unable to flee due to her exhaustion.
“What happened?” she finally asked.
Nakir’s fury flared, his features hardening with an intensity that sent a chill down her spine. “What happened?” Her inquiry had prodded an open wound, unleashing a torrent of emotion he was struggling to contain.
Alethea flinched involuntarily—a motion that did not go unnoticed by the man in front of her. He abruptly stood, moving further away from her and raking his shaking hands through his raven hair.
Each word Nakir spoke was laced with raw frustration and desperation.
“You took off on your own and started giving prophecies to people in the square without a shred of caution. Xytharia found you, and for some fucking reason, she decided it was a good idea to push you even further. Whatever you gave her nearly sent you—” His voice caught in his throat as the memory seemed to suffocate him.
“When Balthasar and I found you, you—” He halted again, the words nearly choking him.
It took him several heartbeats to compose himself enough to finish.
“Balthasar had to put you down before you burned out.”
“You’re angry,” she observed quietly, biting the inside of her lip. “I... thought I wasn’t your prisoner.”
Another flash of anger contorted his face.
“You aren’t, Alethea! But not only did you reveal yourself as an Oracle to the entire province of Meseira—and likely the whole Realm, before long—but you also nearly lost your life in the process!
” He stepped forward. “I watched you reach for it, Alethea. I watched you as you almost forfeited your life—and for what? I told you, nothing is worth that price! Nothing!” He steadied himself, shaking his head.
“Of course I’m angry. The entire Realm will know who and what you are.
You’ve put yourself—all of us—in incredible danger. ”
She could hardly find the words to respond.
He was right, and the weight of that truth threatened to suffocate her.
But she knew somewhere in the core of her magic Xytharia’s question was important, and though she hadn’t wanted to hear the truth—as very few people did—the answer to her question was even more so.
“I should apologize,” Nakir added, lowering his tone as he came to sit on the edge of the bed next to her.
“I shouldn’t have said what I did yesterday morning.
All you’ve ever told me is that you want to be free of this life, and I should have respected that.
I understand why you ran. From your mother.
From me. I get it.” His voice had softened to a tone of remorse.
It was a painful admission, and her heart wrenched as she beheld his defeat.
“It’s... not like that,” she tried to argue, but she faltered as her chest tightened.
“You don’t have to explain yourself to me, Alethea. You don’t owe me anything.”
Alethea. Not Thea.
Tears filled her eyes, unbidden. “I... I’m sorry.” Something told her there was nothing she could say to fix what she had damaged.
“Don’t be.” His voice was little more than a haunted echo in the quiet room. The fortress of anger he’d built wavered momentarily, revealing a tortured reflection that struck Alethea to the core. “You’re free to make your own choices in this world. I will always fight for that, no matter what.”
In that moment, as he reached out to her, she glimpsed the raw grief etched across his features. His fingers stopped a breath away from touching hers, but the distance between them seemed insurmountable.
He stood then, his movements weighted with an unspoken burden, and made his way to the door. Nakir stopped at the threshold, his voice carrying over his shoulder. “We’re leaving in the morning for Edysos. You can stay here if you want. The choice is yours.”
And then he was gone.
***
Hours later, a knock at the door pulled her from her wallowing.
Without a word, Emi stepped inside, carrying two steaming cups of tea.
She offered Alethea a kind smile as she approached quietly, but the Oracle found herself unable to return it.
Setting the cups down on the bedside table, Emi reached across the bed, her touch a gentle reassurance on Alethea’s shoulder.
“Balthasar told me what happened.”
Alethea hadn’t faced the spymaster yet, and she didn’t know how she could. She slowly turned in the bed to face Emi, every one of her bones screaming in protest.
“I was foolish.”
“Yes,” Emi agreed, though she offered Alethea another small, sweet smile.
“But you were very brave. The people of Aegea can’t stop talking about you.
They’ve been lining up at the gates begging to speak with you.
It took an entire day for the Great Lord and Lady to convince them to go home.
They’ve left gifts and letters at the gates, all for you. ”
Dread filled her. This was what her mother had always feared. She’d warned Alethea the masses would never stop; that she would be hounded every moment for the rest of her life. Zenobia had tried to protect her from this, in her own way.
“I put myself in danger.”
“Yes,” Emi agreed again. “But it’s possible you saved that little boy’s life.”
“Nakir is angry with me.”
She wasn’t sure which one was responsible for the regret churning within her: the fact her secret was exposed, or the pain on Nakir’s face.
“You really can’t tell a lie, can you?” Emi teased gently, brushing a few stray curls from her face.
The motion was so tender and gentle, so familial, it made Alethea’s heart ache.
“I don’t blame him. He has never cared about anything more than the oath he made, but you came along, and suddenly that changed.
For the first time, he started to consider the idea he doesn’t have to do this alone. ”
The thought Alethea had ruined that threatened to send her spiraling all over again. “If you’re trying to make me feel better, it’s not working.”
Emi chuckled. “I want you to feel better. You also deserve the truth. Nakir is angry because he is afraid. He feels like he can no longer protect you. We’ve all lost someone on our journeys here—Nakir more than most.” The storm mage held her hand, her touch an anchor in the storm of her feelings.
“But between you and me? I think you have enough power to protect yourself. And I’m not talking about your magic. ”
What power did she have aside from prophecy?
“Come here—let me sit you up. Xytharia sent along some tea to help your recovery before she left.”
At the mention of the other Aeshlien, Alethea frowned. “She’s gone?”
Emi causally fluffed her pillows, making small adjustments and gently drawing the covers up over Alethea’s lap.
“After the way Nakir laid into her? I’ve seen them fight before, but that was...
something else. I’m surprised she stayed at all.
” She passed her the cup of tea, and Alethea took it gratefully, the warmth distracting her from the body aches.
“She took care of you while you were out, the past day and a half.”
Alethea nearly spit out her tea. “Day and a half!”
“Ah, yeah. Trying to touch the Weave will take a lot out of you. I don’t recommend it, having seen it firsthand.”
Alethea thought of Elena, Emi’s sister, and her gaze fell to the cup of tea in her lap. She traced her fingers along the rim, lost in thought. Emi’s eyes, warm and understanding, followed her movements.
“You can ask about her, if you want,” she offered gently, sensing the unspoken questions in her friend’s gaze.
Alethea had always wanted to know more, but she’d never given herself permission to broach the subject. “What happened to Elena?”
Emi’s smile was soft and distant as she began her story.
“My sister and I… Our powers have always been...
explosive. The idea we were blessed with magic that could only be used to destroy horrified her.
She was terrified of hurting someone, which only made her powers more unpredictable.
Her greatest fear was that her loss of control would get someone hurt.
I... I see a lot of her in you sometimes.
She, too, had little stomach for violence.