by Amy Tintera
“At least eat something. You look like death. And you won’t be able to fight without your strength.”
“Good. Fighting’s exhausting.”
“I’ll try to come back tomorrow. If you haven’t eaten I’ll force-feed you.” Galo slammed the door behind him.
NINE
AREN WATCHED FROM the porch steps of his cabin as two warriors set up a tent nearby. The wind was strong, and they were having trouble keeping it in place as they hammered the posts into the ground. He could have offered to help, or enlisted an elemental Ruined to redirect the gusts, but he wasn’t feeling particularly charitable today. Or any day, really.
“Young man, the ancestors did not bestow such a gift on you for you to keep it to yourself.” His mother’s voice rang clear in his ears. He was almost positive she’d never said that exact thing to him. It didn’t matter. His mother’s voice was always in his head, even when he didn’t want it there.
“My gift won’t help build a tent,” he muttered out loud. He could imagine the disapproving look he’d get for that statement.
“What was that?”
Aren jumped. Iria stood in front of him. He swore that girl didn’t touch the ground when she walked. She was always sneaking up on him.
“What? Nothing,” he said quickly. “Hi, Iria.”
She smiled. “Hi, Aren.” She looked exhausted, a consequence of a brutal schedule they’d set for themselves to get to Ruina as quickly as possible. Still, she was pretty in a way that a couple of dark circles and dirty clothes couldn’t hide.
“I’m glad to see you made it,” she said, lowering down onto the step next to him. Her shoulder brushed his. “I searched for you and Em after the battle at Fort Victorra.”
“We took off right away. Didn’t want to risk retaliation for Olivia killing the queen.” That wasn’t entirely true. There was no chance of retaliation, not after Olivia killed the Lera queen. He hadn’t seen Olivia do it—he’d been injured, lying on the ground nearby—but he’d heard Cas’s panicked breathing and the strangled cries. The noise had sounded so much like Aren’s cries the night his parents had died that he’d put his hands to ears in an effort to drown it out. It hadn’t worked.
“You know I wouldn’t have come on this trip if the warriors were up to anything bad, right?” Iria asked. Her expression was serious, and she was trying to meet his eyes. He resisted.
“I know. I can’t imagine you kept me alive in the jungle just to come out here and kill me.”
Something flickered across her face when he mentioned the jungle. His heart was suddenly thumping in his chest, and he rubbed a hand over the back of his neck, trying to ignore it.
“This is a nice home you’ve set up here,” she said after an awkward silence. He just shrugged. It wasn’t a home, and it certainly wasn’t nice.
“We brought food,” Iria continued. “Did Em tell you? Lots of beans. And some dried meat.”
“I heard. Thank you.” He stood, then wished he hadn’t. He missed the warmth of her next to him. “Tell me if you have any trouble. Steer clear of the Ruined. Especially Olivia.”
Iria got to her feet. “How is Olivia?”
“She’s adjusting. She’s angry, of course. She was in captivity for a year and got out to discover that ninety percent of the Ruined had been murdered. She’s rarely in a charitable mood.”
“I understand.”
She couldn’t possibly understand, but Aren didn’t point that out. “You’re safe here,” he said instead, though he could never guarantee that.
Iria smiled at him. She crinkled her nose a little when she smiled, drawing attention to the freckles there. “Thanks, Aren.”
He quickly turned away and stepped into the cabin. Olivia stood next to the window, holding back the curtain as she peeked outside.
“I know that girl,” Olivia said. “She used to come to the castle when I was younger.”
“Iria. She was with us in Lera.”
“Right. Em mentioned that.” Olivia watched as Iria walked away. “You trust them? The warriors?”
“Of course not.” He paused. “I trust Iria.”
She lifted an eyebrow. It was not an approving eyebrow.
“Mostly,” he quickly added. “It’s … in the jungle, when the warriors took me, she offered to let me go.”
“She did what?”
I’ll take that blindfold off. Iria’s words from a few weeks ago rang in his ears. They’d been in the jungle, the night after the warriors had captured him and Em and Cas had escaped. He’d been blindfolded, his arms bound in front of him, when the soft voice whispered in his ear.
“She offered to let me go,” he said, heat rising up his neck. The memory of Iria tugging the blindfold off took shape in his head, the way he’d blinked in the darkness to find her so close to him their noses were almost touching.
“And … what? You stayed anyway? Didn’t you arrive at the fortress with the warriors?”
“I didn’t take her up on the offer,” he said. “She could have been charged with treason. She assured me the warriors weren’t going to kill me, so I stayed. It was better to keep tabs on them.”
“I guess,” Olivia said skeptically.
Aren turned away, afraid she’d see emotions splashed across his face. The memory of that night burned so bright in his mind it was hard to keep his expression neutral.
You idiot, he’d said after she’d pulled the blindfold off, a trace of humor in his voice. I could kill you.
You’re not going to kill me. She’d said it with such confidence that he was almost insulted. He still remembered the quiet laugh that had followed, like that was the most ridiculous thing she’d ever heard. He’d never met a human who wasn’t scared of him.
He’d declined her offer, and she’d put the blindfold back on and settled down next to him. He’d woken the next morning to his head on her shoulder and the other warriors making fun of him for it. She’d discreetly squeezed his hand and disappeared from his side.
“Her first loyalty is to the warriors,” Olivia said firmly. “Always will be.”
Aren nodded. There was no use arguing with Olivia. There was no use trying to explain that a warrior had really had good intentions. That Iria had offered to commit treason for him.
Maybe he was stupid. Or overly optimistic. Or distracted by the way her nose crinkled when she smiled.
But Aren was almost certain Iria’s loyalty rested with him, not with her fellow warriors.
TEN
LAUGHTER AND MUSIC filled the air, and Em paused on the porch of her cabin and looked for the source of the noise. The warriors had built a large fire in front of their tents. A man sat on a rock with a guitar, a crowd surrounding him.
Em glanced at the cabins around her. A few Ruined were on their porches, watching, but no one joined the warriors.
Em pulled open the front door and poked her head inside her cabin. Aren and Olivia sat at the kitchen table.
“I’m going over to say hi to the warriors. You want to come?”
Aren stood right away, but Olivia shook her head.
Em hopped off the porch and walked to the fire pit, Aren trailing behind her. Iria stood near the guitar player, watching a group of warriors dancing. She lifted a hand when she spotted Em and Aren. She walked to them, her gaze lingering on Aren for a few moments.
Iria stuck her hand out to Em. “Prince August was looking for you. But dance with me first.”
“Dance with you?”
“Come on,” Iria said. “It’s tradition.”
“It is?”
“Well, we danced together in Lera, so I say it is.” Iria grabbed her arm and pulled her to the makeshift dance floor. Iria lifted one arm, spinning Em around.
“You always have to lead,” Em said, her lips twitching.
“Well, I’m a better dancer than you.”
Em would have argued, if it weren’t true. A burst of laughter came from behind her, and she looked over her shoulder to see Aren
talking to a warrior she didn’t know.
Em turned back to Iria. “Aren told me what happened in the jungle. Thank you.”
“Don’t mention it.” Iria met Em’s eyes. “Seriously. To anyone.”
“Of course. I know what a risk it was for you. But I appreciate it.”
Iria nodded, her attention over Em’s shoulder.
“Your Majesty,” a deep voice said.
Em turned to find August standing next to them. She stepped away from Iria.
He wore fresh clothes, his black pants and gray tunic only slightly rumpled. He’d left his coat behind, and she took a quick survey of his body. No weapons that she could see. His clothes were rather formfitting, so the only possibility was a knife in his boot.
“May I have a moment with you and your sister?” he asked.
“Sure. She was in our cabin, last I saw.”
August swept his arm out, indicating for Em to lead the way. She cast a quick smile at Iria before heading to the cabin with August.
The living area was empty when she stepped inside, so she left August alone and walked down the hallway to her and Olivia’s room. The door was open and her sister was perched on the edge of the bed, frowning at a map in her hands.
“Did you bring a human inside?” she asked, without looking at Em.
“Prince August. He wants to talk to us.”
Olivia folded the map and tossed it on the desk. “Do I have to be there?”
“He specifically asked to speak with us both.”
“The entire point of this diarchy is that you have to deal with all the boring stuff.”
“I thought the entire point of the diarchy was that you thought I would be a good leader,” Em said, kicking her sister’s leg.
Olivia kicked her back. “That too, I guess.”
“At least just listen to what he has to say.”
Olivia let out a long sigh as she rose from the bed. “Fine.”
“And don’t be hasty. We’ll listen, then discuss after he leaves,” Em whispered.
“Fiiiiine,” Olivia said, pushing Em toward the door as she dragged out the word.
They walked back into the living area to find August still standing near the door. He nodded at Olivia.
“Thank you for agreeing to see me, Your Majesties,” he said.
“You can call me Em,” she said.
“You can call me Your Majesty,” Olivia said.
Em winced, worried August might have been insulted. Instead, his lips curved like he was trying to hold back a laugh. Em dug an elbow into her sister’s ribs.
“You can call me Olivia,” she grumbled.
“Wonderful. You can call me August. Everyone does.”
“Do you want something to drink? All we have is water.” Em gestured to the jug on the table.
“No, thank you. I’m fine.”
“Please, sit,” Em said.
The living room consisted of a sofa and three chairs, two of which were in questionable condition. August took a seat in the ragged gray one, the furniture creaking as he settled into it. Em sat down on the couch next to Olivia, across from him.
“I have to admit, after seeing this place, I’m surprised you declined my brother’s invitation to visit us in Olso. He would have put you up in the castle.”
“We like Ruina,” Olivia said. Em caught the hitch in her sister’s voice. Neither of them liked Ruina all that much, especially after seeing Lera, but it was the only home they had.
“I’m sure you do, but we would have been happy to have you while your castle is being rebuilt.”
“It’s best if we all stay together right now,” Em said. “The Ruined need leadership here, not queens off gallivanting in Olso.”
“Gallivanting,” August repeated with a chuckle. “Fair enough.”
“Did you come here to try to convince us to go to Olso with you? If so, you’re wasting your time.” Olivia waved at the door. “You might as well just go back.”
“No,” he said. “My brother asked me to pass along that it’s an open invitation, and we hope that you’ll visit soon. But I understand why now isn’t a good time.”
“You understand,” Olivia said, leaning forward in her chair. “But let’s be honest. Your brother is the king. You have two older brothers in line for the throne ahead of you. Why did they send the least-important heir?”
“I like to think I’m a bit more important than some of my cousins.”
“Do you have any real power?” Olivia asked. “If we make deals with you, will they be honored by the king? Or are you wasting our time?”
Annoyance flickered across August’s face. “I’m authorized to make certain deals.” He said it with the bitterness of being the least-important heir. Em bit back a laugh. Olivia looked pleased to have upset him.
He twisted his face back into a smile. It was fake this time. “There are things I can’t do, but I’ll let you know if they come up. I was sent here with a specific purpose.”
“And what is that?” Em asked.
“My brother wants to solidify the alliance between Olso and Ruina.”
“Solidify how?” Olivia asked.
“He sent me to marry the Ruined queen.”
Silence descended on the cabin. Em went numb.
“Of course, we only expected there to be one, but since there are two …” One side of his mouth lifted.
Marry? Marry? Cas’s face floated across her vision.
Olivia snorted. “You can count me out.”
“Olivia!” Em exclaimed.
“What?” Olivia said. “I’m not doing it.”
“You’ll note that I didn’t ask to marry you.” August sniffed.
“Thank goodness.” Olivia turned to Em. “Sounds like he prefers you.”
Em gripped the arms of her chair and eyed the door. Would it be strange if she bolted out of the room?
She couldn’t marry August. Sure, he was cute, but his smile often seemed forced and she knew nothing about him. She still half expected him to do something horrible.
It was easier to marry Cas, even though she’d hated him at the time. At least she’d felt in control of the situation. This was unexpected and there was no way for her to get her footing.
“Are you open to the discussion?” August asked.
No. She hadn’t even considered her next marriage. As queen, it was a given that the union would be more about politics than love, but she’d thought it was a ways off.
Cas.
The name burned a hole through her heart. She tried to ignore it. Her feelings for Cas didn’t matter. It would never be him, no matter how much she wanted it.
“I know this is sudden,” August said when she didn’t respond. “But it could be beneficial to the Ruined as well as Olso. You need food and clothes and protection. We can provide that.”
“We don’t need you to provide anything,” Olivia snapped. “Certainly not protection. We’ll be back on our feet soon enough. I’ll make sure of it.”
August was clearly skeptical, but he didn’t respond to that. He looked at Em, waiting for her reply.
Em could shut August down right now. Tell him to pack up and leave. Olivia would be delighted.
But Olivia was wrong. The Ruined did need Olso’s help. The warriors could provide protection and supplies that Em couldn’t. They could help rebuild the castle. Was marriage really such a terrible trade for the opportunity to rebuild Ruina that much faster? To provide the Ruined with a better level of security?
“Do you understand what you’d be getting into?” Em asked slowly. “A human hasn’t married a Ruined for … centuries.”
“I know.”
“Our children would be Ruined. I’m useless, but that doesn’t mean my children will be. They could be very powerful, like Olivia.” She sucked in a breath. “Wait. You’ve considered that.”
“Of course.”
“With Ruined in the royal family, you’d never have any challengers to the throne. No successful o
nes, anyway.”
“Exactly.” He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “And with Ruined in the Olso royal family, you’d also never have to worry about us turning against you. Your blood would be our blood.”
“And you would live here,” she said. “In Ruina.”
“Of course. Our children would be expected to spend half their time in Olso, though.”
Talking about children sent blasts of terror shooting down her spine, and she let out an almost hysterical laugh.
She wanted to tell him no. She wanted to tell him she couldn’t get through one minute without thinking about Cas, and she didn’t want another man intruding on her brain.
Of course, maybe it was ridiculous to think he would ever take up any space in her brain. It was just an alliance marriage. She didn’t need to have any feelings for him. It might even be preferable that way.
“I don’t need an answer right away. Perhaps you could discuss it with your advisers and—”
August’s words were cut off by a scream from outside.
Em jumped to her feet, panic seizing her chest.
She darted to the corner and grabbed her sword. Olivia was already out the door, and Em ran out behind her, August tailing them.
Aren shot out from the darkness and skidded to a stop in front of them. “Lera soldiers,” he gasped out. “At least a hundred. They’re attacking now.”
Behind Aren, Em could see horses and flaming torches coming over the hill. A streak of fire soared through the night and a tent burst into flames. Ruined ran out of their cabins, hastily throwing on jackets and shoes. The warriors were gathered around the flaming tent, trying to put out the fire.
“I knew it!” Olivia screamed. She took off, leaving Em in her dust. She threw a glance over her shoulder. “Aren! Ruined! With me!”
Aren ran after her. Ruined followed them, flames illuminating their faces as they sprinted toward the approaching army. Jacobo stopped and turned to face the fire. He reached his hand out and the flames snaked through the grass, past Em, and to the Lera soldiers. Two men went up in flames.
Em pressed a shaky hand to her mouth. Why were Lera soldiers attacking? Was Cas with them? Was he angry enough about his mother’s death to turn against her?
