by Ana Calin
“Two dead soldiers and one mage under the care of magical doctors isn’t proof enough?”
“With all due respect,” one of the older courts chimes in, “we have more pressing matters to discuss now. Not that a treacherous queen weren’t important, by all means, she is.” Eyes find me, full of hidden meaning. “But how we’re going to deal with Samael is far more urgent. You fought him back, Milord, you forced his armies to return to Hell, but they’re bound to come back.”
“We know Samael’s reason for doing this,” a court from the back puts in. “While on the quest for the Firestone, you have absorbed his people’s dark power, Milord. But if that’s what drives him into battle, he must also have terms and conditions under which he would stop. If he hasn’t sent a messenger to negotiate yet, I suggest that we do.”
At this point I can hardly control my thoughts of Cerys, my burning need to see her, to sink my hand in her hair and grab her hard, force her against the wall right there in the dungeon and demand the truth. Kiss it violently out of her.
“He has sent a messenger,” I manage, my voice rasping. People lean back, some of them stare at me, barely able to hide their alarm. Which is understandable, I sound like a devil. “Apparently, he offered the Queen a deal.” I stand, looking the facts in the face even though I’d rather cut my wrists open than do it. “The Queen has been in touch with Samael in secret. He threatened to attack the realm, she pleaded for peace. In exchange for that, he demanded that she give herself to him.” A knot forms in my throat, and it’s difficult to speak past it. “She agreed. She gave herself to him three nights before our wedding. They did it in the very bed that we were supposed to share with each other tonight. After...” No, I can’t even fucking say it. “After he took her, Samael realized he wanted her for the long-term.” I scoff. “Poor bastard. He’s probably getting played, like I did.”
“How do you know all this?” the older court demands, his eyes full of doubt. I imagine it’s as hard for him to believe it as it is for me.
I turn my head to Marayke. It was her who briefed me, reluctantly and red to the tips of her ears, just before I entered the castle. My feelings were still numb from the fighting, which is why she chose that moment. It was like performing surgery under anesthesia, but now that I’m coming back from the numbness, what she told me sears my heart like a red iron sears human flesh.
“You should have seen it coming,” Kareim says, approaching. His sister Marayke is supporting him, and he holds a hand at his now bandaged neck. I can smell the healing magic that imbues it from here. “She is the daughter of Hades, and the descendant of Merlin. You took it the wrong way when I warned you against her, Milord, but I hope you see your mistake now.” He climbs the stairs to the throne podium without waiting for invitation or permission. “But all I had at heart were your best interests.”
“Yeah, sure you did,” Draven says, blocking his way. He turns to look at me, his shining black eyes conveying to me once again that, no matter the evidence, he has serious doubts. In the end, all the information about what Cerys has done came from Kareim.
Kareim looks at me past Draven. “I know it’s hard to believe, but can you ignore the evidence, Milord?” He points to his neck. “Look what she did to me. The soldiers she killed, they’re still lying in her cell, the ground covered in their blood. She gave herself to Samael, and then plotted with him.” He turns to the crowd, saying out loud what his sister told me before I entered the castle. I want to snarl out my rage, but he claims to have overwhelming evidence, plus a confession from her.
“Cerys Dark is what brought Samael’s armies to our doorstep,” he declares. “The Archangel of Death has brought the armies of Hell upon our realm just after she and our King got married. He had insisted that she gave herself over to him before that happened, because he wanted her for himself. For real. And forever. But she wanted to secure herself the right to inherit the Fire Realm when the King fell.”
“Death to the traitor!” voices yell from the back, and then more join in.
“Death to Cerys Dark! Death to the traitor witch!”
Every one of those demands tears another piece of my heart. Veins of fire start to show through my skin. Draven holds up his hands, addressing the crowd.
“Brothers and sisters, please.” His raised voice is enough for the noise to die down. “Remember that, traitor or not, Cerys Dark is our King’s fated mate. Her death might have repercussions on our King that we don’t yet understand.”
Murmur travels through the hall, and people start talking and arguing. I soon tune them out. Fireblood thumps in my temples. I walk down from the high throne podium without a word, moving through the crowd towards the exit. I can feel Draven’s eyes on my back, and I know he’d like to join me, help me deal with these feelings because I have no experience with them, but he can’t. He must deal with the people while I struggle with my own emotions.
Cursed realms, how could I have been so blind. So stupid. How could I put myself in Cerys’ hands like this. I speed down the stairs towards the dungeons where I know they’ve put her, driven insane with relentless questions. I have the evidence that she betrayed me with Samael in the worst way possible, and yet part of me refuses to believe it. It’s like if I accept this truth it will hurt too badly and I won’t be able to live through it. But I’m the King of Flames, damn it. My heart was nothing more than a lump of dead volcanic rock until I met her, when it caught fire in a way I didn’t think it could.
She ravaged me. No, it wasn’t Cerys who betrayed me. It was my heart that did.
I bend the bars to her cell, unloading my anger on them, and step inside. She’s crouching by the wall, bracing herself, her blue-black hair so messy she resembles a witch who’s been living in a forest for months. Her face is dirty, her army camouflage catsuit slashed along the arms, and she seems to be in pain. The moment my eyes rest on her my heart drops into my stomach. Not just because of how wretched she looks, but it’s like I’m looking at another woman. Her glow is almost completely gone.
Her face is now pale, her skin translucent. Only those honey eyes, they feel like home, which tears me apart.
“Tell me it’s not true,” I rasp through my burning vocal cords, in the voice of a devil.
She stares at me, saying nothing. I walk over and grab her by her shoulders, bringing her up to her feet. She rises to the tips of her toes, looking small and helpless in my hands, her face twisting in a grimace. She’s in pain. I scan her up and down to locate the injury, but then she says something so cruel that it almost knocks me over.
“It’s true, it’s all true,” she cries, and I freeze.
I don’t even blink. I just stare down at her face, at her expression of pain. Tears gather in the corners of her red and puffy eyes. But the fact that she’s in pain hurts more than her betrayal. My hand slides down her back. I want to pull her close to me, demand that she stops playing games and finally tells me the truth. Force her to look me in the eyes so that I can read in hers what happened, who’s putting her up to all this. Someone must be threatening her. No, I refuse to believe my Cerys could betray me like this
“You’re lying.”
“I’m not,” she cries out, as if desperate to convince me. “I did it, I gave myself to Samael.”
The whole world crumbles down on me. Her words just smashed all my hopes to smithereens, and no matter how hard I try to catch a broken piece and hold on to it, I can’t. I press her to me. She tries to push herself away, her grimace harder, her face redder, but I won’t let her.
“You,” I growl through my teeth, fire running through my veins. “After everything we’ve been through together, you did this to me?” I shake her. “How could you?” I snarl.
She cries out, and suddenly turns as soft as jelly in my hands. It takes me a few moments to realize she’s fainted. I scoop her up, staring at her face, the look on it showing that she couldn’t put up with the physical pain anymore. Cursed realms. Her skin has lost all its glow. There’s no doub
t—she did something so bad that she lost her beautiful aura. She is a traitor.
Xerxes
“HERE,” DRAVEN SAYS, offering me a drink. I take it, and turn my face to the red view of the Fire Realm. I don’t know for how long I’ve been standing at the window in the sitting area of the master bedchamber, looking out at the volcanoes and houses carved in volcanic rock. The Realm is a safe place again, but I don’t know for how long.
“People are recovering from Samael’s attack, but they’re already expecting the next one.” Draven’s voice is low, calm, easy on my nerves. “But it can be avoided. If we just give him what he came here for, Xerxes.”
“Never,” I growl.
“But the Queen, she admitted she did it. If you don’t hand her over to Samael, she will face trial by the courts. They’re all waiting downstairs, eager to tear her apart.”
“No one will lay a hand on her.”
“You know what I mean.”
I do. The courts will suggest punishments, but in the end I, as the King, am the one who’ll have to make the final decision. I’ll have to speak out the final sentence. And they’ll make sure I’m forced to choose a cruel one.
“Her back,” I say. “I’m not sure about that injury. I’m not convinced she got it the way she said she did.”
He puts a hand on my shoulder carefully.
“I don’t want to believe it any more than you do, trust me. I actually liked the Queen. But her confession makes perfect sense, Xerxes. She tried to seduce the guards in order to escape. When it didn’t work, he turned to violence. They got killed and Kareim got injured.”
I shake my head. “I just can’t buy that story, Draven. You don’t know Cerys like I do. While she can be dangerous, and she can use her powers in ingenious ways, physical violence isn’t one of them. Seduction even less.” And even if it were, if she’d tried to seduce the men, they wouldn’t have been able to resist her. I know that much.
Draven pauses, letting it go through his head. “But why would she lie?” he eventually says. “Why incriminate herself? She knows that it could get her killed, or worse, imprisoned forever. We’re talking an eternity of imprisonment, Xerxes, you know how impossible that can be for parahumans. She would lose her mind, and she knows it.”
“Which is why I can’t understand why she doesn’t fight, why she doesn’t try to defend herself.”
“Because all I want is to go to Samael,” Cerys interrupts.
She got out of bed, where the witch doctors attended to her, and came over to the sitting area. I heard her from the moment she got up from the bed, but I don’t even turn around now. I can’t look at her, but her tired, battered voice, tells me she must look like shit, and yet mouthwatering, a treacherous, wilting rose, with the perfume of which I want to intoxicate myself. I’m aware of her standing there, in the doorframe between the bedroom and the sitting area, staring at me.
“That’s all I want,” she says. “I would do it right now, if I had my way.”
I don’t reply.
“I took him into my body only three nights ago, Xerxes,” she presses. “I gave myself to him before I became your wife, I fucked him right there, on that bed.”
“My Queen, please,” Draven tries to temper her, but she pushes by him. She’s close behind me now, her scent of wild lilies strong in my nostrils.
“I never intended to hurt you,” she says, her tone less obstinate. Now, she sounds hurt. “He wanted my body in exchange for leaving you alone, and I initially did it for you. But then he wanted more, and I let myself fall under his spell, too. I’m sure even you would understand if you met him in person. He’s an Archangel, he can be irresistible when he chooses to, I never stood a chance.”
The muscles in my jaw bunch, I clench it so hard. How can she tell me such a thing, when I know better than anyone how strong-headed and strong-willed she can be. No way a man could have manipulated her like that, not even if he was Divinity in the flesh.
“Many are worried that my death would cause yours as well,” she argues. “So letting me go would be the surest way to make everybody happy. I mean, really now, why are you even still considering other options?”
I turn around briskly, and she takes a step back. She probably didn’t expect the storm in my gaze.
“I’m still considering other options, Cerys, because you allegedly killed two of my people.” I don’t mention the High Mage because, honestly, I don’t give a fuck about him. “The courts, my armies, everybody wants justice.”
“But if Samael doesn’t get me, he’ll keep attacking the Fire Realm. Are you sure you can afford to antagonize the armies of Hell? Do you even want to? Am I even worth it?”
“Realms,” I breathe as I stare at her. “How can I even still look at you?” I reach out and touch her face, more gently than she expected. What I feel right now doesn’t make any fucking sense. I don’t want to break her now glow-less, pale face. I don’t want to hurt her. No, I want to keep her, even against her will. And I would force her to stay with me, even in terrible conditions, if I were the only one paying the price. Unfortunately, it’s not just me.
I let my hand drop off her face, keeping my expression cold and detached.
Tears glint in Cerys’ eyes, the reddish light of lava and the shadow of thick clouds reflecting off the water hanging on her eyelashes.
“You will go through the trial of the courts,” I tell her. “You will be brought down in chains, and you will stay that way until a decision is reached. As of now, you are stripped of all royal prerogatives and advantages.”
She tries to protest, but I’ve already stepped by her, heading to the door, keeping the mask of indifference on my face for everyone I encounter on my way. Maybe if I hold on to this mask long enough it’ll actually become part of me, and my feelings will grow cold. But it’s not gonna happen anytime soon, it would seem. My soul hurts so much the sensation is physical.
I go to the separate chambers I had the servants prepare for me on the lower floor, strip of my armor, and sink into a hot bath, hoping that it will make me feel better. It doesn’t, not by much. Zestari, one of the girls who was in Cerys’ retinue at the wedding still moves about the chamber, making the final arrangements for the night, or pretending to.
She’s been one of my private servants for a long time, and I know her well. She’s an experienced courtesan, and she’s been offering her services to many military leaders who came to visit me on diplomatic missions. Now, what she truly wants is to catch a glimpse of me naked as I sink into the hot water, and I used to let her have her glimpses. But now her schemes only anger me. The mates’ bond I have with Cerys is still strong, even after this nightmare. Maybe if I close my eyes and try to relax against the stone tub, I’ll wake up to find Cerys sitting on the edge next to me in the transparent red gown she wore last night, combing her hair and bending down to kiss me.
But it doesn’t happen. I open my eyes to the ceiling of this room, with Zestari moving about, towels in her hands. She doesn’t know that I can see her from the corner of my eye, licking her lips as she approaches me with hungry eyes.
“Don’t,” I growl when she dares step too close.
“Milord,” she says in her husky, confident voice. “I just want to serve you. You can still have joy and pleasure, if you just let me do it.”
She steps behind the tub and, setting the towels on the stool, she touches my shoulders.
“Your muscles are like boulders.” She bends down, and I know she’s going to kiss my shoulder, as covered in blood as I still am. For a moment, I consider letting her, but then a flash of Cerys lights up in my mind’s eye. Her face, without its glow but just as beautiful, with those large honey eyes full of pain and yet also candor. How will I ever accept that those were the eyes of a traitor?
I rise so fast that the water splashes over the tub’s edges. Zestari falls on her backside. Her mouth pops open, and I realize I’m standing completely naked in front of her, covered in blood and water.
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“I’ve just come back from war,” I growl. “I have demon blood all over me. My chest is bursting with bloodlust. I’m going through Hell with my wife. And you think what I need now is sex?”
“I can think of nothing a man in your situation could need more.”
“Listen, Zestari, it’s not that I don’t appreciate what you’re doing. But even before the Queen and I became bonded mates, I never took advantage of my servants, not even of my courtesans, in the way that you want me to take advantage of you now. And I never will, no matter what.”
“You still want her,” she whispers, frustration and grudge replacing the lust in her face. “After everything she’s done, you would still take her back. Are you really capable of forgiving her? You, the ruthless King of Flames?”
“I’ve already decided that I will punish the Queen,” I declare, keeping my voice as calm as I can. My vocal cords are still affected by the fire I’ve used against the demons. “But it will not be to please anyone, or even to avenge myself. It will be to serve a purpose.”
CHAPTER III
Xerxes
LOOK AT ME, THE KING of Fire, once an impulsive, aggressive, and heartless brute, dealing with my wife’s betrayal with the coolness of an impartial judge. How that’s possible is a mystery even to me.
She slept with Samael. In my bed. Then she sold me out to him. She married me in order to become Queen, so that she could inherit the entire realm when I was out of the picture. That way, her new lover would actually have a claim on the throne. Or at least that’s what the courts argue was her plan, and she’s not denying it.
The courts reiterate everything while Cerys stands in front of the throne podium, dressed in a white gown like a virgin ready to be sacrificed in front of an altar of fire. Her blue-black hair spreads over her shoulders. There are chains around her delicate wrists, and she keeps her gaze down, on her naked feet.
My mouth crooks to the side, just a little. Look at her, a vision of innocence that has lost the ivory glow of her skin. She no longer carries pure magic. Now, she carries the energy of betrayal.
