Chapter 2 #2
The pyrrhic. It’s the second time I’ve heard that word, and I suspect he’s referring to the illusion we came through. But it’s another of his words that causes my chest to constrict, my brain to stutter. His granddaughter?
If it’s disarming to have people bowing to you, calling you a princess, it’s another feeling entirely to have somebody tell you they might be your grandfather. Especially when you have precious little family of your own.
‘Magnus… Your Majesty,’ I add, forcing myself to focus on the question he asked. ‘I believe we were guided here.’
‘Guided?’ he questions, his eyes flickering towards Thessa before returning to me.
‘Yes, by this. It was my mother’s.’
Swallowing down the lump that continues to pester me, I hold out my hand, showing the ring.
He gasps. ‘Your mother’s?’ he whispers.
‘Yes. I believe my mother was part Issen. I have inherited some of her powers. Powers I don’t know how to control. That’s why I’m here – to learn.’
I feel like he’s listening to me, but it’s hard to tell given that he’s still looking solely at the ring.
‘I did not think I would see that ring ever again,’ he says quietly. ‘Not after they left.’
‘They?’ The question slips out before I can stop it.
With considered slowness, he lifts his head to meet my gaze.
‘You have our powers, and the ring belonged to your mother?’
‘Yes.’
He studies me intently for a moment, examining my eyes, my lips, my jaw. ‘By Oel, you certainly have the look of her,’ he murmurs. ‘What of her?’
‘I – I’m sorry. She’s dead.’
A breath shudders from him as he slowly blinks his icy-white eyes. ‘What is your name, child?’
‘Rose…’ My voice cracks in my throat. ‘Rose Kultavaris.’
‘Like the flower. I see. And your mother’s?’
‘Reeva.’
I wait for him to say more, but Magnus remains silent. If my mother’s name means something to him, he does not show it. Instead he is still. Studying me. I do the same, my eyes scouring his features.
Can I see myself in this man with his lace-patterned skin and white hair? Can I see any of my family in him? As my green gaze meets his icy-white one, I don’t believe I can. There is nothing of him in me. Nothing I can point to.
‘You are wasting time, Magnus.’ We both jolt at the sudden sharpness of Ranveeg’s impatient tone. ‘The Rite of the Veil has been invoked. Either she is who she claims to be, or she dies and her lie will be exposed.’
Fuck.
‘What!’ Kyor goes to launch himself towards the general, but I shove him back with everything I have. If he attacks her without his powers, she’ll kill him. I’ve no doubt of that.
‘I haven’t claimed to be anybody or anything other than Rose Kultavaris,’ I say, sure I can reason with them. ‘It was the guards who—’
‘Irrelevant.’ Ranveeg waves her hand dismissively.
‘If you are the princess, then the Veil will accept you. If you are not, then you will perish. And your friends will pay with their lives for sullying our lands with their Morathkian stench. Don’t worry, I will make it swift. ’ Her sneer says otherwise.
‘General Ranveeg, that is quite enough,’ Magnus orders, glancing over his shoulder as if he fears her slurs towards Morathkians will be overheard, but I can’t imagine who here in Issen would be insulted by such terms. After all, the Morathkians are standing right in front of him.
‘She’s not doing it,’ Kyor says, pushing me gently aside and stepping forward, his fist trembling at his side. ‘Rose came here for your help. Whatever this Veil bullshit is, she’s not doing it. I’ll take her place. I’ll do it for her.’
Gods, I fucking love him. My heart throbs with it, threatening to burst out of my chest. That he would so easily volunteer to risk himself – to risk death – for me… How have I ever doubted his love? His honesty, yes, but not his love.
‘As gallant a gesture as that may be, your acceptance into the Veil will end in only one way,’ Magnus tells Kyor. ‘With your death. At this juncture of the moon cycle, only an heir to the Issen throne will be accepted. You, I am quite certain, are not my blood. You would perish.’
Kyor’s throat bobs as he looks down at me. Even in the pale light I can see the pallid hue of his skin.
‘Can the Rite of the Veil wait?’ Caz asks, stepping forward. ‘Rose needs help, that’s all, and she never claimed to be royalty.’
Magnus’s nostrils flare as his eyes skirt over to Ranveeg.
‘I am sorry, truly, but once the Rite of the Veil has been invoked, not even I can go against it.’ His gaze softens as he looks back at me. ‘For what it is worth, I believe your adversaries will be disappointed by the outcome. Come, child. It is some distance to walk across to the sacred lands.’
I’ve travelled for weeks, come to a kingdom I didn’t know existed, yet I somehow already have adversaries. Of course I do.
A corkscrew of nerves tightens within me as the enormity of our situation takes hold. We are in the city of our enemies, in the heart of their domain, outnumbered tens of thousands to one, and we’re all utterly devoid of magic.
Panic claws at my ribs as my eyes fly to Kyor’s. This could be the end of us.
No. I will not allow harm to come to him.
If the Issen do turn on us, then Fen and Elska will fight with everything they have.
We all will.
I turn to Magnus, nod, and then, without another look back, follow him out of the cell, knowing Kyor and the rest of my friends are behind me every step of the way.