by J. E. Klimov
Dante elbowed her.
Isabel puffed her chest out when she spoke. She tried to keep her voice full of queenly authority. “Where do you hail from?”
When he stood, Raiden’s lips thinned into a flat line. Hands on his hips, he fiddled with his belt loops. “Chailara Hills.”
Isabel’s arms slipped from the armrest. “That can’t be. There aren’t any villages in the hills. Maybe many years ago, but everyone has since migrated and integrated into the Deranian community. The last known people that lived in the Chailara Hills were Healers. And all the Healers are gone now.”
“And yet here I am, standing before you.” He lifted his arms into the air. “Right, King Dante?”
“It can’t be. Is that really you?” Dante asked, leaning forward.
Stopping to take a deep breath, Raiden folded his hands together. “Yes. I’m pleased you are back to full health.”
It hit Isabel like a blow to the back of her head─this was the man that had saved Dante’s life. Her hands flew to the sides of her head, massaging them. Questions multiplied faster than she could form words.
Raiden brushed excess water from his vest. “I believe it is Deranian hospitality to grant visitors private audience upon request?”
Isabel peered at the captain.
“He does not carry a weapon,” he said monotone, hands at his side.
The captain’s face remained stoic, and Isabel wasn’t sure how to interpret that as a good or bad thing. Nostalgia created an insatiable itch, prompting memories of the days where she grew up with a friendlier set of guards. Especially Benjamin. She could still recall his hearty laughter and exaggerated expressions. To Isabel, these new men may as well be statues.
“Alright then. You shall have your audience. Please follow us to the study.” Isabel stood, and gestured toward the eastern door. Face hidden from view, Dante led the way to the library, a circular room of stone and gold crown molding. Bookcases lined the walls and a glass table balanced itself on a slate of limestone. The captain took his post outside the door.
Isabel stepped toward the farthest end of the room and added wood to the fireplace. Rain tapped against a window that spanned the ceiling. She snapped her fingers a few times, sending sparks flying. Dante and Raiden chattered amiably while the fire grew. Sticking her hands toward the flames, Isabel furrowed her brows. “Tell me what is so important that warrants a private conversation with Dante and me?”
CHAPTER
10
Isabel drummed her fingers on the edge of the bed. “Are you sure about Raiden? We’ve never had an adviser before. Maybe we should take some more time before making this decision.”
“Raiden is extremely wise and talented. He’ll take our kingdom to new heights,” he exclaimed, reaching for a brush. He combed his hair back and tied it with a ribbon. He wore a crisp white tunic with intricate silver patterns running down the lining.
As she stood, Isabel yawned. Her brain was still foggy from another sleepless night. She couldn’t shake the thoughts of the new visitor. It seemed all too convenient, but she couldn’t turn away the man who saved Dante’s life. Isabel reached for an evergreen velvet gown. It was suited to the brisk winter morning. She sunk into thought as she slipped her arms through the elbow-length sleeves. When Dante’s hands graced her bare back, she shuddered.
“Sorry,” he said. “My hands still cold?”
Isabel nodded.
As he tied the laces up her back, he said, “I’m sorry.”
Turning around, Isabel grasped his hands and squeezed. She hoped to warm them. When she met his glassy eyes, she asked, “Are you alright?”
“Of course,” he replied. “Let’s hurry. Raiden will be waiting at the dining hall.”
“Are you sure?” I’m really worried about you.” She desired nothing more than Dante’s behavior to return to normal, so she could stop doubting her feelings for him.
“Yes, yes. Come on.”
She groaned at the thought of entertaining a stranger. After equipping herself with the armlet and sai, she followed Dante and quickly found herself standing across from Raiden at a round table, dressed in the same outfit as the night before. He stood while she took her seat.
“Good morning,” he said coolly.
Isabel resisted the temptation to stare at his piercings. Waving over her servants, she said, “I’m dying to hear how you saved my husband.”
Dante released a nervous laugh. “Why can’t we just enjoy each other’s company and save the questions for later?”
“I’m just making conversation. It wasn’t meant to be an interrogation.” She scrunched her face in offense.
“Thank you for your hospitality,” Raiden said, picking up a fork. “I don’t mind informing Isabel. Honestly, it was nothing short of a miracle. I had been observing the war from afar. When Cehennem crumbled at your hands, I investigated the area. Mind you, I forage to survive. The Chailara Hills can be unforgiving at times. Beneath the rubble, I discovered Dante, unconscious. He was mortally wounded, but he─was breathing.” Raiden bit into his steak. Chewing slowly, his gaze traveled from Dante to Isabel.
She hadn’t touched her breakfast. Sitting at the edge of her seat, she leaned forward, hanging onto every single word.
After he took a swig of water, Raiden continued in a voice slick as oil. “When I recognized who he was, I took him back to the hills and nursed him back to health. It doesn’t surprise me that he doesn’t remember very much. He suffered immensely, including a head injury.” Pointing his utensil at Dante, he said, “You need to be careful. You are still prone to forgetfulness, sleepiness, and even mood changes.”
“What?” Isabel blinked in shock.
Raiden shrugged. “Those are to be expected from someone with a concussion.”
“What about the rest of him? He’s always freezing cold.”
Dante flushed. “Isabel, please. Must everything be discussed publicly?”
Raiden took another bite of his breakfast. “His body temperature could be off. Because he is still recovering, his body is likely still fluctuating to extremes.”
Pushing her plate away, Isabel tapped her nose. “You know a lot about the body. You’re like a healer of some sort. You wouldn’t by any chance be a descendant of the traditional Healers?”
Raiden met her gaze and held it steadily, voice calm. “I don’t know. I never knew my father, and my mother died young.”
“I’m sorry,” she replied. Images of her own parents came to mind, their death still a fresh wound beneath her skin. Isabel searched for a different topic and found it on his forearms. “And all those tattoos? I don’t recognize the characters.”
“Isabel,” Dante chastised. “Do you have no filter this morning?”
She kicked him under the table.
Raiden played with the cuff of his sleeve. “Actually, I have a question for you, Queen Isabel, if you don’t mind.” He fiddled with the studs on his ears.
“Sure,” she said cautiously.
“The day Cehennem fell, I noticed you weren’t alone. There was a man with the hair like the sun. Who was that, exactly?” Raiden sat back and bit his lip.
Isabel’s palms grew slick with sweat. She was floored by the oddly specific question.
“Who was that, Isabel?” Dante asked in a clipped tone, shifting in his seat. “It wasn’t him, was it?”
Clasping his hands together, Raiden observed Isabel with hawkish eyes. “Who is ‘him?’”
“It was…” Bile crept up her throat. “It was a soldier. Just a man who had come to my aid.”
“Oh? You didn’t know his name? How curious,” Raiden said insidiously.
Isabel clenched her jaw. His tone was so invasive, sending her blood pressure skyrocketing. “His name was Bence!” she blurted.
Dante’s sharp breaths were the only thing breaking the silence. Then, he shoved himself upright and stormed away. At his departure, dread swirled around Isabel, flooding her mind with dark thoughts.
Does he even remember what happened that night? Echidna had possessed him and filled him with jealous rage.
“My apologies. I didn’t realize that was going to strike a nerve.” Raiden’s voice crawled into her ears.
Shooting a glare at him, Isabel stood and said, “Thanks a lot.” She turned and left him at the table, scurrying after Dante.
She tripped over her gown as she raced faster. The throne room was empty. Soldiers cocked their heads as she zipped in and out of the main foyer and down the east corridor. Isabel threw the door open to the library. It was empty too. She charged up the stairs, past the winding hallways until she reached the large oak doors to the chapel. Dante hunched over in a pew, forehead resting against the seat ahead of him.
The candles in the room were extinguished, melted down to their holders. Sunlight filtered through the stained glass, scattering red, yellow, green, blue across the pews and floor. Dust collected atop her parents’ and sister’s urns. Isabel frowned, reminding herself to return and clean up. She shifted her attention back to Dante. His body sat under a swath of green light. Something was broken with him, and Isabel dared to wonder if he was better off dead.
Her heels clicked against the stone floor, but he kept his head down. As she inched closer, Isabel sucked in deep breaths. Anxiety sent her heart fluttering. When she sat beside him, Dante sniffed.
Struggling to muster empathy, Isabel rested a hand on his back. Nothing. She didn’t feel that connection she had with him before. “Are you okay?”
A shift in position revealed a lone eye before he burrowed his face back into his arms.
She shook his shoulder. “Hey,” she said, forcing the sweetest tone she could.
Dante shot up, his cheeks a bright, angry red. “Is Bence still alive?”
Isabel scanned the outline of his body, anticipating wisps of purple. She wondered if he was still under any effects of Echinda’s enchantments. She recalled Dante smoldering with her purple aura, completely consumed with fury. But there was nothing. No sign of possession. His eyes were clear and void of violet fog.
“What does it matter to you? He risked his life by coming to my aid. I wouldn’t have brought down Damian and Echidna’s regime, his parents’ regime, without Bence.”
Dante shuddered at the mention of his name. “You didn’t answer my question. Is he alive?”
She hung her head. While one part of her insisted keeping his existence a secret, the other demanded honesty. Dante threw her a tortured look.
What could Dante possibly do anyway?
“Yes,” she whispered. As soon as the words escaped her lips, she cringed. She wasn’t sure if she would regret her answer in the future. “I think so.”
“Where is he?” Dante’s tone was hard as stone.
“I don’t know. He took off while I was sleeping.”
“You slept with him?” His nails scratched against the wooden seat.
Her hand flew to her mouth. Her fingers trembled. “No. It’s not like that. I didn’t sleep with him. I found him hiding out in Lea Island. It was so late at night, I fell asleep. When I woke up, he was gone.”
Dante turned away from her. Isabel hooked an arm around his and tugged.
“Please believe me,” she pleaded. “He’s gone. You have nothing to be worried about.”
“Did you have any feelings for him?”
She released her grip and pursed her lips. “Of course not.”
When Dante faced her, he rubbed his hands against his thighs and gave a tight-lipped smile. “Thank you for your honesty. I guess we should return to Raiden. Today we are officially appointing him.”
Her skin still crawled. Dante insisted on making Raiden the first royal advisor in Deranian history. The role seemed unnecessary, but Isabel allowed it in hopes that Raiden could be the key to returning Dante to normal. There was a lot to be uneasy about, but Isabel followed him out of the chapel in silence.
The shadow of hesitation grew under the dim light from the lanterns. Their footsteps echoed louder than Isabel’s thoughts, but she couldn’t shake Bence from her mind. She prayed Dante wouldn’t do anything rash now that he knew he was alive and running around somewhere.
They approached an archway that stretched high above, exposing the main hall. Dante extended his hand and led her up the grand staircase toward the throne. Isabel sat as her stomach did somersaults. Dante covered her hand with his.
“Bring Raiden in,” Dante thundered.
Two soldiers escorted Raiden from the dining hall. He stepped gingerly toward them and bowed.
“Dante, you may appoint him,” Isabel said flatly.
All eyes stared at her. Holding fast to her resolve, she said, “I know the queen traditionally leads ceremonies and such, but this is unprecedented. Since this is King Dante’s wish, I believe he should be the one.”
Dante stood and unsheathed his sword. He admired the candlelit glint off the blade and said, “I miss my old sword. It had held so much power.”
“You hold more power than you think.” Raiden knelt and pointed at his chest. “It’s all in here.”
Isabel fought the urge to roll her eyes, reminding herself that Raiden’s presence may be good for Dante. She could care less about his new title and promised herself that she would rescind this decision if Raiden ever stepped out of line.
“I, Dante, King of Deran, hereby appoint you as personal advisor to Queen Isabel and I.” He tapped the blade on Raiden’s shoulders.
Raiden lowered his head, crossing both hands on his heart. The edge of his lips twitched.
“Now, rise.”
“It is an honor to serve Deran,” Raiden said.
Isabel scanned the empty hall. Only a handful of soldiers lined the room. “Dante, do you think we should hold a more formal ceremony in front of our citizens?”
Sheathing his sword, Dante said, “I don’t think it’s necessary. Raiden and I already discussed that this would be a more private affair.”
“Something you discussed without me?” Isabel felt like she was suffocating in her dress.
Raiden shook his finger. “No. Nothing like that. I just felt I shouldn’t bother you with such menial affairs.”
“Is that so?” Isabel crossed her arms. “Well, then the ceremony is over. Nice and simple with no pomp and grandeur. If you’ll excuse me, I’ll be up in my quarters. I want to change into something more comfortable before I head out to the village.”
Folding his arms behind his back, Raiden said, “I think it may not be the best use of your time to constantly hover over your people.”
Hands shaking with rage, Isabel quickly curtsied and left the room without a reply. She fumed all the way up the stairs.
“How dare he tell me what to do. Advisor or not, I’m the queen. Dante can take all the advising he wants.” She huffed and kicked the door to her bedchamber open. She wrestled out of her dress, tossed it on the bed, and reached for her tunic and slacks. When she dressed, she turned to the mirror and tied her hair into a tight bun. Pleased at her reflection, Isabel relaxed. “I am still me, and no one can change that.”
Isabel noticed movement in the mirror. She twirled around and drew her sai. On the other end of the weapon stood Dante. His posture was rigid, with a scowl planted on his face.
“You frightened me. How’d you get here so fast? Where’s Raiden?”
Dante didn’t respond. He arched his back and glowered. Isabel kept her arm raised.
“What?” Isabel insisted. “What’s wrong?”
His hand swung and grasped the sai and twisted. Isabel yelped as her wrist locked, and pain forked up her arm.
“Dante!”
With his other hand, Dante slapped Isabel. She released the sai and slammed against the floor. She pulled out of her other sai and pointed it at him. The opal in her armlet flashed, sending a gale around the room. The wind whipped Dante’s hair back, exposing his blue eyes, lit up with anger. His nose scrunched as he fought against the elemental force
.
When he didn’t budge, Isabel focused on the armlet’s ruby. The tip of the sai erupted in flames. “Stay where you are,” she said through clenched teeth.
Dante knocked the sai from her hand and pinned her down.
“What are you doing?” she hissed. “Are you out of your mind?”
Her energy drained from the inside out. Isabel’s muscles burned until they turned into jelly. The talismans in her armlet flickered. She couldn’t even keep her head off the ground.
Grabbing her by the collar, Dante yanked her face toward his. “Don’t you ever disrespect Raiden again. You will listen to everything he says. And you will heed his advice at all times.”
Isabel’s vision grew blurry until she couldn’t see anything at all.
CHAPTER
11
Bence inhaled through his nose and out his mouth. He crouched behind a bush; he aimed, closed one eye, and released the arrow. It zipped through the air and struck a deer. Bence stretched his arm and retrieved another arrow from his quiver and let it fly. As the creature turned, the arrow struck its thigh and collapsed onto the grass.
“That’s how it’s done.” He turned and found Ami hidden in the branches of a tree.
Cradling a nest of eggs in the crook of her arm, she said, “It took you two arrows. I could’ve gotten it with one.”
Rolling his eyes, he secured the bow.
“And don’t get cocky, either. I lent you that bow. I just didn’t want you to feel useless. You know, with a tiny dagger and a blunt stick.” She landed with a thud and grinned.
Bence fumed and stalked toward his kill. Pulling his dagger out, he measured precisely where to start skinning the creature.
“Need help?”
Her voice was like a taunting screech that lingered in the back of his mind. Bence tried to focus on the task at hand, and quickly. He pulled the skin from the thigh muscle with the edge of his blade. As he made his way to the deer’s throat, Ami started humming.
