And one body in particular.
Amara’s.
With as much self-awareness as I can muster I tear myself away from Reverie. I don’t want to see anything more. I’ve seen quite enough.
“Kara,” Clea reaches for me, but I stumble back over a chair just to get away from her and her Seer.
“I have to go.” With that I storm out of the room, scrambling to find my way out of this wing of the palace I don’t know as well as the rest.
A thousand questions run through my mind as I go. Do I go through with this pregnancy? Do I hope my babies will be like Amara, see past the darkness and stay the path I want for them? Or is it inevitable then that they will fall, like Theon? Like Clea? Like Kol? Is there no way out of what Reverie saw, what I saw with my own two eyes?
I arrive at my destination without an answer for any of those questions. Taya is in with another patient, but I don’t care. I disregard the bubbly mother getting a checkup and zero in on Taya.
“We need to talk.”
Taya turns, glaring as if I’ve got two heads. “I’m kinda busy.”
“There are tonics you can mix to kill a fetus, isn’t there?” Beside me the mother-to-be clutches her swollen stomach protectively, eyes raised in horror.
Taya stops what she’s doing this time to face me. She eyes her patient and then grabs my arm, yanking me across the room so we can speak privately. “What’s going on in your head right now?” she demands, leveling her eyes with mine.
“Just answer the damn question.”
“If you think I am going to lift a finger to assist in killing Theon Beleros’ children than you’re crazier than you look right now.” she grits out.
“Can I kill one without killing the other?”
Taya doesn’t even try to make sense of the wild look I must have right now and answers reluctantly. “Of course not. If you kill one you kill them both.”
It’s not what I was hoping to hear. I don’t want to have to kill my baby girl just because her brother might become a monster. If Lavina had made that decision Amara may not be here right now. But I don’t know that I have any other options here. I can’t unsee what I saw.
“How much stock do you put in prophecies?”
“Prophecies? They are absolute. But what does that have to do with—”
“Prepare it.”
“What?” she gasps.
“Prepare the tonic, Taya or I’ll burn this whole palace to the ground with us all inside it.”
—CHAPTER NINETEEN—
AMARA
ZAKARIA
Large as this ship is, with its many servants and crew members and Vakrov’s Royal Court flitting about, I feel infinitely alone.
Even with Tristan whispering in my ear.
Go back, he begs, as if it were that easy. Before it’s too late. A warning, a threat even. But I ignore it like I’ve ignored him thus far. If he’s not going to give me the gift of his handsome face, of seeing those emerald eyes one more time I’m not going to indulge his warnings. I won’t even acknowledge them.
Instead I focus on the water as it ripples beneath the ship, cutting through the ocean water like a knife.
“Kind of beautiful, isn’t it?”
I don’t turn when Keenan approaches. Our last encounter was revealing, for the both of us. He showed his hand and I showed mine. I’m doing what I have to do to survive and it seems he may be too. What secrets is he keeping? Why keep them at all? It’s not as if I could do anything about it. But maybe, just maybe he’s as trapped as I am.
“It is.” I stand up straight, hands gripping the edge of the ship, fighting the familiar urge to flee every time he’s near. I have to play nice with Bastian for the time being, but not with him.
“You’ll like Zakaria. It’s known for its art and architecture. Maybe we’ll be able to see some of it after we take care of business.”
I can’t help, but laugh at his attempt at civility. “Keenan, I need you to understand something. What I’m doing, it’s for the survival of myself and my people. When we do get married it’ll be for politics and nothing more. You’ve made it very clear to me that you don’t care about me anymore.”
If it were Kol standing before me now he’d make a joke of my defensiveness and refusal to forgive him. Or he’d look at me with sad eyes, refusing to react. But Keenan has the temper of a fire user and a Serpentarian combined and he can’t help himself.
His fingers curl around my forearm and I flinch at the new bruise I know will be there by night’s end. “Every single thing I have done here has been for you. When are you gonna get that, Amara?” He pulls back from me, shaking his head. Then he walks away without another word.
For all his rage, he doesn’t see that every time he loses his temper he reveals another sliver of the truth. He’s surviving like I am. He admitted that to me the night Bastian invited me to come to Zakaria with him. And today he’s given me something else. What exactly has he done for me? I don’t know the answer to that, but with every outburst he reveals something more. It won’t be long now until I have the full picture.
Keenan isn’t wrong about Zakaria though. It’s a beautiful place to be, an even better place to live I suspect. That is if you’re not like Missy or like me.
As our procession migrates from the ship to the docks we’re paraded through the city the same way Bastian had been when he’d visited Limacore, where my fate twisted into something much scarier than Theon Beleros.
Zakarians from all over come to see the Vakrovian king and his entourage, but it isn’t until they see me, at Keenan’s side, that the crowd doubles. The lost Llìrian princess, who apparently is some percentage Zakarian as well. I wonder if Aaric knows what’s going on in Vakrov, if he knows how Bastian parades me around like a woman does her jewelry. If perhaps he’s heard rumors of the lost Llìrian princess now found. If he has, what must he think of me? Does he think I’ve succumbed to the Vakrovian king’s whims?
I’m jolted out of my thoughts when I feel Bastian nudge me on my right. I follow his gaze forward to the palace up ahead.
It’s the biggest one I’ve seen yet. I’ve seen the one in Limacore, Vakrov, I’ve even got glimpses of my own back in Llìria through Kara’s eyes. But this one overshadows them all. While each one was unique with Limacore’s castle-like façade and Vakrov’s stark gray built for defense, this one is a giant rectangle with dozens upon dozens of tiny windows. The building itself is a yellowish hue with a dark blue roof. At the center there is a domed watchtower with no less than four guards stationed there.
An army of them meet us at the door. Zakaria is ruled by earth users, of House Capricorn so their uniforms are a rich army green with the queen’s House sigil emblazoned on their chest plates. Most of the Zodiac symbols are odd, but this one takes the cake with what appears to be a lower-cased N with a loop at the end.
Behind us there is an army of our men—Bastian’s men—flanking us with the king, Keenan, and me at the center. His advisors are here with us too, to protect the new king from making any poor decisions.
The queen of Zakaria stands in wait. As we draw near I can tell that she’s young. Barely in her mid-twenties if I had to guess. The crown that sits atop her head is an incredible-looking thing. It’s white gold with emeralds as big as my eyeball set into each spike. Surrounding them are smaller emeralds as well as turquoise diamonds. The emerald gown she wears brings out the jade green of her eyes in contrast to her long, ink black hair that’s braided back into a ponytail. The rest hangs down her back, incredibly long and pin-straight. She’s devastatingly beautiful and looks like she could lay me out in three seconds flat.
“Welcome, King Bastian of House Aquarius.” Her voice is velvety smooth. She bows respectfully and Bastian does the same.
“Thank you, Your Majesty. This is my cousin, Prince Keenan Volterra, and this,” he says with such vehemence I want to be invisible lest I do or say something to anger him in front of the queen. “This is Amara Boudelaire,
of House Serpentarius, princess and future queen of Llìria.”
The queen tips her head in my direction, vivid green eyes regarding me with interest. “She’s so young.” I flinch at the jab. I may be young, but I could suck the life out of you with one touch.
“She is, but she’s incredibly powerful. Her abilities, well, you’ll have to see for yourself. Words can’t do them justice.”
The ghost of a smile plays at her lips, those green eyes staring right through me. “I look forward to it.”
As we’re marched through the stunning Zakarian palace I can’t help, but think of the little village girl. A little more than half a year ago I’d never even been outside of our tiny village. The barriers of Baal were all I knew. Today I can check three different countries off my list of places I wanted to go, but deep down believed I never would. It makes my heart ache for Aaric, for my brother who should be with me now, experiencing all of this with me. You can’t help, but be dazzled by the accommodations, the scenery, the privilege. But for the invisible chains, I would get lost in it.
My room has a view and I am content to stare at it out on my balcony until the guard Bastian assigned to me comes to tell me it’s time for dinner with the queen.
My guard’s name is Kade. Daxon wasn’t one of the guards chosen to accompany us to Zakaria so Kade is his stand-in.
Moments of peace are few and far between for me so I savor it. As always though, I am not alone long. Beside me on his own balcony Keenan stands, taking in the view like me.
I turn to go inside, in no mood for another battle of wills with Keenan Volterra when the doors suddenly slam shut before me. I sigh and shoot Keenan a daggered glare.
Damn air magic.
“I just wanna talk.” he says, putting his hands up in surrender.
I flick my eyes in his direction, but I can’t stare long. I can tell just by the softness of his eyes he means to come to some kind of understanding. I’d rather deal with his rage.
“We have nothing to talk about.” I say, impartial. I’m too drained from the trip to show him my rage. I’m on the right path to freedom. He is no longer of any concern to me.
“Just hear me, please.” The desperation in his eyes almost makes me laugh. He feels like he’s being pushed out. Me and Bastian’s faux-alliance makes him nervous. Question is, is it because he doesn’t trust it, or is it because he thinks Bastian may decide a marriage with the future queen of Llìria is more valuable than a princess of Limacore? If only he knew I’ll be long gone before either happens.
I press my hands to the bars of the railing, turning so that I’m facing him. As always what I say next is calculated, careful. “I want to ask you something, and I need you to be honest with me, Keenan. Total transparency.”
His eyes are thoughtful and finally, he nods. “Ask me.”
“If we hadn’t had that fallout, if we’d just been smart and stayed home that night, would you have betrayed me the way you did?” His silence is answer enough. Still, I wait.
Keenan swallows hard. His fingers curl tightly around the railing. I thought I wanted to hear the answer aloud, but I realize I don’t. I can’t.
“That’s what I thought.” I say before he can speak. “If you’d stayed, you could have had me. You would have had me. But I guess you wanted power more than you wanted me.”
That’s where we leave it. Because there is nothing more to say. He chose power over me. Same way Kol chose his war over me. Am I doomed to be everyone’s second choice? Is this how Kara used to feel? Like always I can’t answer those questions.
I clear my head in the bath, taking more time than I need to in there. When I emerge there are two young girls, maybe years younger than me, standing there, ready to serve.
“We’re sorry, Your Highness.” One says, a brunette, the smaller of the two. “We knocked, but you must not have heard us.”
“We’re here to help you get ready for dinner with the queen.” Says the other, a short redhead. “I’m Ayla and this is Tasya.”
I clutch the robe around me, feeling suddenly exposed. I’ve always hated having handmaids, even back in Limacore. And in Vakrov I only recently started to get treated with any sort of respect. Here in Zakaria I’m a princess, a potential queen. But I have no real interest in a crown so why does the thought make me feel such relief?
Ayla and Tasya bicker for a good half an hour about what color dress will go best with my complexion. Finally they decide on a dark violet blue. A simple gown, floor-length, strapless, with a shear blue trailing skirt at the back. All of the jewelry they don me with is white gold, including the hair piece holding my long wavy bronze hair in a tight bun at the back of my head.
By the time we’re finally finished Kade shows up to escort me to the dining room. It’s a lot more formal than the ones I’ve been too before. Cafeteria-like settings, but this one is more like a banquet hall, with each table set for royalty.
“Princess Amara,” the sound of my name has me spinning on my heel, coming face to face with Grayson Belvedere.
I smile, recognizing my cousin’s sandy hair and familiar gray eyes, reminding me of my mother, who sent him to find a way to get me out of Vakrov. I wonder what he’ll try with me here, on his turf. I suspect it would be easy to smuggle me out. But I won’t go. Not without Haven.
“Grayson,” I smile on his name. We hadn’t had much of a chance to get to know each other, but it feels good to see a friendly face, one in support of getting me home.
“You look lovely, cousin.” He holds his arm out to me.
I loop my arm around his, elbow to elbow, and smile. “Thank you. Why do I suspect you’re the one responsible for getting me here?” I ask, offering smiles to those who offer them to me as Grayson drags me through the dining room.
“Oh no, cousin. You got yourself here.” he says, sounding impressed, though I fail to see what I did. “The queen is a curious one and she wanted to meet the girl who turned her captivity into a play for power.”
“Hah, I’d hardly call it that.” I nearly scoff. My attempt to play nice with Bastian is not a play for power. It isn’t even a play for dignity. It’s a play for survival. If I have to play nice with Bastian to do that then I’ll do it. Do I want the crown that’s being offered to me? Honestly, I haven’t an answer for that anymore. Do I want to see Kara and Aaric and Roman and the people that I love again? The answer will always be yes. The rest we can all figure out together.
“It doesn’t matter what you’d call it. The queen owes Lavina. The fact that she admires you can only work in your favor.”
“What does the queen owe my mother for?”
“That’s a long story for another day.” He glances up to see if there’s anyone with eyes on us. For the moment there’s not and so he very subtly tucks a folded piece of paper into my palm. I don’t acknowledge it or try to read it. Just tuck it away for later.
The table Grayson leads me to is only half empty. Grayson tucks me in between himself and an empty chair at the end of the table where I suspect the queen will be when she joins us. Bastian and Keenan are seated directly across from us.
I don’t know much about the queen, except that she rules with an iron fist and is well-respected. I suspect any number of the guards in this palace would lay down his or her life for her. As for me? I’m not even sure I know her name.
I can’t say that for long when she enters. Everyone stands collectively as a man announces his queen. “Katania Westergaard of House Capricorn, Queen of Zakaria.”
We don’t sit until the queen has. In fact, the silence in the room is thick as the queen’s eyes—even greener than I first suspected—flick across the table. She stands again, but waves a hand for us all to stay seated, except for me. Her cool hand slips into mine and she tugs me to my feet. “Tonight we dine in honor of Amara Boudelaire, the lost princess of Llìria, daughter of one of my closest friends. To you, Amara.” She holds a wineglass full of dark liquid up and so everyone at the table follows suit.
The queen’s eyes settle on me as the servants deliver the first course in what I expect will be a long meal. “So, Amara, tell me, how did you end up in Vakrov?”
It’s a test. She is well aware how I ended up in Vakrov. Grayson explained to her my whole situation in the hopes she’d help an old friend’s daughter escape the clutches of a greedy king and his pet prince. This is either a test to see if I’ll lie to her or to see how good a liar I am. I could bust this whole thing wide open right now.
Instead I feed her the lie I was taught. “Well, I met King Bastian when he came to visit Limacore, to secure an alliance with King Theron. We were actively thwarting attacks from Theon Beleros so when Keenan told me the king of Vakrov was interested in helping me take back my country in exchange for my allegiance I was inclined to hear him out. It wasn’t a difficult decision to make. King Theron was using me to do his bidding and I knew I’d be safe from Theon Beleros in Vakrov. And then, of course, there was Keenan.” My chest burns with disgust as I am forced to smile at my betrothed and pretend I feel nothing, but love for him when all I really want to do is pluck his eyes out with the fork in my hand. “We grew up together. I trusted him and I knew he’d always keep me safe.”
Keenan smiles back, content to play his part. He does it well. He reaches across the table for my hand to take and I slip mine into his, as much as the feel of his skin on mine makes me physically ill. He runs his thumb over my knuckles gently. “And I will,” he promises me. “Always.” I get locked in his gaze, four blue eyes burning into one another. I wonder if he’s as convinced by my lie as I am of his.
“Well, he’s a lucky man.” Katania says, breaking the moment. I could kiss her for it. “Have you ever had lamb, Amara?”
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