“Thanks to you.” He drew back and looked down into my face. “You’re a remarkable healer.”
“Mariana—”
“She did nothing,” he said. “Her magical ability is only a fraction of yours.”
“I think she panicked,” I said. “How did you come to be so injured?”
He frowned and leaned closer. “I do not wish to discuss it.”
“Castillo.” Clear warning laced my voice.
“I went home, to Nyth.”
Images of the High King singing until Castillo’s bones split ran through my mind. He could wound with his voice and his fists—I’d already seen him raise his hand as if to strike Cris. The thought of the High King even looking at Castillo the wrong way made me sick.
“Nyth,” I mused. “I’m glad you’re well, then.” My words melted his stoic exterior. He pressed his lips to mine. I drank in his smell, the taste of him, greedily, thinking this might be the last time I could experience him this way. I feared the Prince would be making his selection soon, and I knew Castillo wouldn’t do anything to hurt his brother—which included kissing me.
Twenty-Three
The next day, I sought after Mari. I found her sequestered in her suite, her eyes bloodshot and her chest heaving with hiccups. “Mari.” I sat next to her on the bed. “What’s the matter?”
She shook her head, fresh tears spilling down her cheeks. Wrinkled handkerchiefs littered the bedspread where Mari lay, and I began sweeping them into a pile for her clothing matron to launder.
“I couldn’t heal him,” she said between hiccups. “I tried, and my magic was so weak. I’ve been releasing it every day at the pools.” She covered her face in her hands and sobbed.
I patted her on the back and smoothed her hair away from her face. “You tried. That’s what matters.” When she didn’t quiet, I began humming the lullaby Grandmother had sung for me the day Olive left. I felt the magic flare through me, and I urged it to go.
Mari’s muscles relaxed and her cries subsided. I signaled to her maid that we needed food, and minutes later a tray arrived. The lamb chops made my mouth water and my stomach roar.
“Come eat,” I said to Mari and “Thank you,” to her maid. The young woman ducked her head and backed out of the room. “You’ll need your strength.”
Mari joined me at the table, her hair a tangled mess and still gasping for a proper breath. “What would I need strength for?”
“For speaking with Cris.”
She brightened considerably at the mention of the Prince, and I suddenly wondered why she’d been in Cris’s suite so late at night. “You’re in love with him,” I blurted, hoping they had simply been finishing their date.
She jerked her eyes to mine. “You aren’t?”
I supposed some of the feelings I’d experienced over the past couple of months could be classified as love. At the very least, they weren’t hatred. I remembered the last kiss we’d shared, and a hot iron flared inside my chest.
“No.” My voice sounded strained. “I’m not in love with him.”
Mari flashed the tiniest of smiles. “I think he’ll choose you now,” she said, the nasal quality returning to her voice.
I chewed slowly, hoping to give Mari the impression that I was considering her words. “He doesn’t love me.”
I didn’t want to give Mari the crown, even if I didn’t love Cris, even if I didn’t want to be rule Nyth. I wouldn’t be able to do anything to help my countrymen—or magicians—if I didn’t become Queen. “He does not have to.” Mari pushed her food around on the plate. “He needs someone who can wield magic.”
I looked up at her, wondering how she knew such things. Had Cris told her, or did she have a guard who shared information? “Mari, can I trust you?”
“Of course.” She put down her utensils and studied me. Even without makeup, she was beautiful and now that she’d stopped crying, she seemed very confident.
“Castillo doesn’t think Cris will make a very good king.”
Mari leaned closer. “My guards say the same thing. Solis, especially.”
“Castillo would like to see Cris with someone who can protect him from his father.”
“I would like that, too,” Mari said. “The man is simply awful to Cris.” She crossed her arms as her eyes took on a furious quality. The chill in her expression caused a shiver to slide over my arms.
“Well,” she said. “I’ll advise you to be aware of Castillo.”
“What do you mean?”
She peered at me. “Castillo wants the throne.”
I laughed, because the absurdity of such a statement required it. “That’s not true.”
Mari remained stoic. “It is true. Though nobody in Nyth acknowledges his royal status, everyone knows Castillo should rightfully be the next king—and that he wants to be.”
“The next king?” I had the sudden urge to get back to my courtyard so I could sing the songs I needed to discover Castillo’s birth. Though I was weary of such intrigue, I didn’t want to learn this sensitive information from Mari.
Before I could excuse myself, she said, “He’s four days older than Cris, and the first son of Javier de la Fuenta. He should be High King of Nyth.”
“Even though his mother was not Queen?” I knew enough politics to know Castillo was the bastard son of the High King, and bastards were never in line for the throne.
“Castillo has long petitioned for equality when it comes to the royal bloodlines.”
“Meaning . . .” My mind leaped in circles, and my hands twisted around each other while I thought. “He doesn’t believe it matters if you come from one or not. You don’t have to be royal to be royalty.”
Castillo’s goals sounded a lot like mine. All he wanted was to establish a practice that allowed all people to be treated fairly. It was exactly what I desired for magicians. If he succeeded in his plans, he should be the next High King of Nyth. He could be living in luxury instead of a one-room bedroom that doubled as a dining room and a bathroom. His plot to ensure Cris didn’t rule Nyth made much more sense now.
I wondered what Castillo had been doing in Nyth these past few weeks. Was he truly on an errand for Cris? Or one of his own?
I wondered why he’d leave out this important detail and if I could really trust him at all. The thought made me hurt. More than I had when I’d taken his pain into my own body. More than when I had fled Iskadar, leaving Oake behind to face the hunting parties alone.
“I must go,” I managed to say through a throat too thick to swallow. Mari walked me to the door and hugged me goodbye. Thankfully, Matu waited in the hall.
#
That night, as I stood over a sleeping Castillo, an invasion song confirmed Mari’s accusations. Cris and Castillo grew up together under the motherly eye of Helena, but Castillo was born first. I leaned over him as images from his childhood rebounded in my mind.
I left before I found out if he wanted to be High King or not. I couldn’t stomach the thought of him using me that way. I felt so foolish, and that lent itself to anger.
Luckily, Castillo needed to rest more than usual because of his recent injuries, the cause of which I still didn’t know. I wanted to sing another invasion song, but I feared the sharp edges the answers would carry.
I spent hours in the gardens with Matu, and many more in the sewing room with Lucia. With the machine running or our drawing pages out, my thoughts didn’t tangle the way they did in the soft minutes before I fell asleep at night.
Cris and I spent hours together eating, and talking, and midnight strolling. I found that I could easily fall in love with him, and I didn’t entirely blame him for perpetuating the charade of courting the other girls.
“Father has finally approved my selection,” Cris said one evening as I settled in our favorite spot next to the river. He sat next to me and loosely took my hand in his. “Do you wish to know who I chose?”
I cut a glance at him and found a rare smirk on his face. “Surprise me
.”
He leaned close and kissed me, a short, chaste union of our mouths. “A surprise it shall be.”
#
The next morning, Bo magically amplified his voice and made an announcement through the compound. “His Majesty has made his selection. He chooses for his bride the lovely Echo del Toro of Iskadar.”
Twenty-Four
I’d been summoned to an engagement party that evening, but I didn’t feel like celebrating. I imagined Mari prostrate on her bed, surrounded by cried-through handkerchiefs. The thought brought an ache to my skull that the strongest medicine couldn’t relieve. And Lucia had brought me three doses.
I still hadn’t spoken to Castillo, and the words piled inside, almost ready to come surging out. I didn’t know if I’d be able to control them—a danger, considering I’d be meeting Cris in less than a half hour.
I knew Castillo would be waiting in the hall. I didn’t assume he’d allow anyone else to escort me to this occasion for which he’d so carefully planned. I sat in front of the mirror, watching as Lucia braided and wrapped my hair into an elegant knot. Greta brought out the highlights in my skin and made my lips as red as blood. My eye makeup was dark and striking, with a hint of gold in the corners, like wings. She was truly masterful with a brush, and I told her so.
She smiled and continued dabbing at my lips until they shone. Lucia helped me into a dress that hugged my chest and hips and flared to the ground around my bare feet.
“Lucia,” I breathed. “When have you been working on this?” The silver fabric reminded me of a bolt of lightning, hot and unpredictable. Uneasiness scorched my insides, so the dress complimented my mood.
“I haven’t been sleeping enough.” She smoothed her hand over the cloth at my waist. “Which would be fine if you didn’t wake so early.” She stepped back and grinned at me.
“You’ve been keeping secrets!”
She laughed, a devilish twinkle in her eye. “I have others, too. You have not seen all my work, ‘dearest.’”
“Lucia,” Greta admonished, but I simply laughed at her impression of Cris.
All too soon, Greta and Lucia disappeared, leaving me with my thoughts. The door opened, and Castillo entered, wearing a suit of charcoal and a ruby colored tie. He looked every bit as handsome as Cris, every bit as regal, every whit as kingly. My heart pushed blood through veins that had constricted at the mere sight of him.
I stood and watched as he closed the door and moved closer. “Echo,” he murmured, and my chest squeezed a little tighter. “You are stunning. Congratulations on your engagement.”
I noted the formality of his words and the careful way he stopped a safe distance away. I suddenly wondered why he’d stayed away for so many days. Perhaps he, like me, had realized the folly of our budding relationship, and knew we couldn’t become more than bonds.
“I will miss you,” I whispered.
“I will be with you.” He stepped closer to me. “We’re bonds. We’ll always have that.” He embraced me, and I breathed in the wet stone smell of him.
I moved away. “What were you doing in Nyth these past few weeks?” I slipped my arm into his and tugged him toward the courtyard.
“I cannot tell you.”
“Cris will tell me then.”
“No. You mustn’t ask him.”
“I don’t understand why you won’t tell me. This shouldn’t be a secret anymore.”
He exhaled in an exasperated way. “I do not wish you to know.”
“Does it have anything to do with your agenda to equalize the royal bloodlines? Then you would be first in line for the throne.” I folded my arms across my chest.
He stepped back, his face a mixture of anger and shock. “Who told you?”
“You should have told me.”
“I did not—”
“—wish you to know,” I said with him. “But why, Castillo? You realize this makes me doubt you in every way.” I paced to the end of the courtyard and spoke to the stones. “I doubt whether your plan for me to rule is altruistic or not. I doubt whether you want what’s best for Cris at all!”
“That’s smart, I suppose,” he said quietly. I spun to find that he now faced the palm fronds in the corner. “When I went to Nyth, my father wasn’t pleased to see me. I begged him to release Cris of his kingly duties. He doesn’t wish to be High King. I said I’d do it. I could be a noble king.” He cleared his throat. “My father knows Helena hails from a royal line, albeit obscure and unrecognized. He beat me and then he sent his guards to finish the job. I only survived long enough to return to Umon because of the personal magic I possess.”
My hands shook at the memory of Castillo’s pain, the blood leaking from his ruined mouth. He must have chanted a slowing spell to keep his blood loss at a minimum. Or perhaps he’d sung a spell to keep his body from feeling pain.
“Castillo, I’m sorry.” The words sounded inadequate, because they were.
“It’s not your fault. My father is not an honorable king. He won’t step down, nor will he allow Cris to do so. He will kill me before he allows me to expose his cover-up of my mother’s heritage. He will never allow his bastard son to be more than a soldier.”
I lightly touched his shoulder and turned him toward me. “Maybe instead of fighting for a recognized bloodline, we should focus on grooming Cris to become the king he should be. My grandmother said the ancients give kings many chances to rule honorably. He deserves that much.”
“The ancients don’t have as much sway as they once did.” Castillo’s eyes grew stormy. “They have abandoned these lands across the seas.”
“I refuse to believe that,” I said. Grandmother had bragged of their kindness, their utmost care.
“It’s called lore for a reason, Echo.”
I squinted at him. “The stories are not foolish beliefs. The ancients of Relina are real.”
“They’ve done nothing to interfere with my father, nor his many years of poisoning their power.”
A sharp sensation tugged at my stomach, yet I refused to believe the ancients had abandoned these lands.
Castillo swayed to a melody only he could hear, the fight leaving his shoulders. “It doesn’t matter. My father has spent over two decades shaping Cris into a weakling. He did it purposely, Echo, so that by the time Cris takes the throne, my father’s power-hungry magicians can use him as a puppet. It is they who will truly rule.” He dipped his mouth closer to my ear. “I would rather you guide Cris than them.”
The thought of the High King ruining and using magicians to satisfy his will brought a fire to my core. Before I could answer, a bell rang. It sounded musical, not like the emergency bell we’d used in Iskadar, nor the siren from my first week in the compound. I’d never heard anything like it, and I turned toward my suite in alarm. “What’s that?”
“Cris is summoning the citizens.” He laced his fingers in mine and squeezed. “To introduce them to their soon-to-be princess.” He led me through the glass door and called for Greta to ensure he hadn’t smudged my makeup.
#
I stood with Cris behind a closed door, my heart thundering in my chest like a herd of wild horses. My dress felt too bright, my hair too black. I felt haphazardly stuck together, with too many pieces that didn’t belong in some spots, and not enough essential parts in others.
“I cannot breathe.” I gasped, and Cris reached for my hand. His magic flowed into me, calming me from the inside out. “Thank you.”
“I meant to tell you about my magic immediately,” he said. “I’m sorry I didn’t disclose my full abilities.”
“We’ll have to start being more honest with each other,” I said, thinking of Castillo and our bond.
Before Cris could answer, the double-wide doors crashed open and sunlight streamed into my face, along with a deafening chorus of applause. Cris pulled me forward into an unknown I couldn’t see. I raised my hand to wave, as Gibson had instructed me.
On the balcony, I smiled and did my best to look t
he part of the happiest girl in these lands. I held the hope that Cris could become a king the magicians of Relina would approve of. I may not be able to undo decades of training from the High King, but I wouldn’t let anyone take him down without a fight. I may not love him yet, but that potential existed.
Cris leaned in and kissed my temple, and the crowd went wild. The anger that had surged at the thought of the High King faded, but I couldn’t fully get the image of Castillo bleeding and broken from my mind. I couldn’t erase the fear in Cris’s eyes when he introduced me to his father. I heard the High King exclaiming, “Iskadar!” as if I was unworthy of being in his presence.
I didn’t want to rid myself of those memories. I would use them to dethrone the High King and bring to power the person who belonged at the helm of Nyth. I would use them to cleanse the magic, and release the caged magicians, and make Grandmother proud.
As I stood in the sunshine, smiling and kissing Cris, I imagined what it would take to scour the corruption from the royal line.
I knew exactly where I’d start: Bo and Gibson.
Twenty-Five
After the friendly reception of our engagement, Cris dictated an announcement for his messengers to take to the villages surrounding Umon. He sent a royal decree to the land of Heona.
“The queen won’t be pleased with this union,” I said from the lounge chair on Cris’s deck. “She’ll view it as a threat.”
“I am aware.” Cris sent another servant out the door. “Castillo and I have discussed it at length.”
“Oh?” I couldn’t mask the annoyance in my voice. “And what have you two concluded?”
“The queen of Heona has granted her royal approval for our union.”
“She has?” I asked. “What did she require of you?”
“She knows we have no interest in unseating her.” Two more servants entered. He gave them directions while I refocused on the Burisia River. I couldn’t imagine Queen Bargout sitting idly by while another country doubled its holdings, pressed in closer to her borders. I knew little of the queen and her temperament, but certainly understood her trade embargo. Her approval had come at a price.
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