Chapter 21 #2
Mina fidgets with her fingers. “She had the seat replaced with a lid. We didn’t realize it until we tried to move it and one of the warriors’ fingers slipped and opened it.”
Flashes of a nightmare, I thought I had forgotten spring forward. An image of my mom whispering ‘the throne.’ Shit. I knew all along I just didn’t realize it. I shake my head, clearing my thoughts as Artemisia and Marcus step closer.
“Lena,” Artemisia breathes, wrapping me up into an embrace. I hug her back, her riotous curly black hair smothers my face. “We heard you’re restoring magic.”
She releases me and I step back. “We have been.”
Her long flowing gown billows around her in the gentle wind. The green of it is a near match to the rolling hills behind her.
Marcus nods, and I notice his eyes are bloodshot. “Good. I’m glad.”
A tear slips down his cheek, and he moves quickly to wipe it away.
He clears his throat, staunching the emotion that flows through him, and rolls his shoulders back.
The morning light gleams off his chocolate brown leathers.
He cuts a powerful figure and I catch a glimpse of the Roman legate he was in his past.
I reach out, clasping his hand and gripping it firmly. He is a good man, an honest man, and I feel sorry for him.
“This was not your fault, Marcus.”
He shakes his head, guilt weighing down his shoulders. Artemisia wraps a supportive arm around his waist. “Tell her.” Her voice is soft and coaxing.
Marcus swallows. “I’ve been trying to think of anything that might be useful for you. Anything I know about my son.”
“And?” Lachlan asks, stepping closer to me.
“At first I couldn’t think of anything. His birth was so long ago.
But then it started coming back to me. His mother wasn’t from here.
She claimed to be from Vanaheim.” My brow lowers in confusion, but then I remembered traveling between the realms was common before all of this.
“She left Julius at my door with a note that said the women of her clan don’t raise male children.
I tried to find her, but no one from Vanaheim knew who she was.
I thought they refused to tell me out of respect for her.
Time passed, and I didn’t think it was important. I raised my son as best as I could.”
“Shifters,” Lach growls. “I ha’ the feeling she wasna from Vanaheim at all.”
“Is it possible that he wasn’t yours?” I ask timidly, not wanting to kick a man while he’s down.
“No. I know he is mine.”
Marcus’ head hangs in defeat before he steels himself. He raises his head and I see the muscles in his jaw crackle with tension before he speaks again.
“He always had questions about her as a child. But I assumed that was normal. When he came of age, he set out to find her, and was gone for some time. I had prayed that he would find the answers he sought about who he was and where he came from outside of this place. But when he came back, well—he came back wrong. He had always been different. But he seemed angry. We never talked about what he found, or didn’t.
I believed his anger was because he didn’t find her. ”
Marcus lowers his head again, but this time, in acceptance. “I will accept any punishment you see fit.”
Artemisa gasps, her head whipping between Marcus and me.
“Punishment?”
“For raising a traitor to the realm.”
A breath works its way out of my chest. This poor man has been punished enough.
“There is no punishment, Marcus. Unless you’re claiming to have known all along who he was?” My brow raises as I wait for his answer.
His face turns a ruddy shade of red. “I absolutely did not—”
Lachlan places a hand on his shoulder gently, quieting him. “We know.”
Agatha clears her throat. “The throne?”
“Let’s go,” I order, striding down the dock. Mina, Agatha, and Lachlan follow behind me.
I exchange pleasantries with those who have gathered to greet me. Hands are shaken, bows bestowed, and chests thumped. I’m appreciative that they took the time out of their busy morning to greet me. We mount the horses that Mina and Agatha brought and head towards the castle.
They desecrated my mother’s throne, and this entire realm. My blood boils as rage burns through me. My skin tingles even here with magic still hindered.
I will make him pay.
My skin shimmers. The horse I’m riding flicks its ears in worry. I take a slow deep breath like Torin taught me so I don’t end up getting thrown off.
“Easy,” I whisper to the horse. “I’m okay. It’s okay.” I slow our pace until we come to a stop.
Everyone stops with me.
“Again?” Lachlan asks, eyeing the light radiating from me.
“I don’t know why it keeps happening.”
Lachlan’s eyes narrow. “It happens when ye feel a rush of emotion. Magic is getting stronger here. You’ll have to learn to control it.”
“But my power is battle foresight?” My nose scrunches. Why is it even happening? I’m not being attacked.
“That we know of,” Lachlan murmurs.
“What do you mean?”
“It’s possible ye ha’ more than one power.”
My mind is a whirlwind. “How?”
“Well, ye are the queen. And a powerful one at that…”
I turn to Agatha, her lips press into a thin line. “It is possible.”
I push my horse forward again, this time at a faster pace.
Rolling hills of green and large boulders dot the landscape. There are still areas of flattened grasses from the tents that were erected during the rebellion. New timber houses stand tall and their occupants wave from their front doors as we pass.
I don’t have to force a smile to my face as I wave. I’m not surprised that people decided to stay here. This is a beautiful place to live. I see so much of Gran and Torin in this place, I can’t wait to bring her back here. Then it truly will feel like home.