Diadem

by Kate Kelley

  “Terrin. Don’t. I begged her to give you a fair trial. Gaia agreed that it wasn’t your intention but she said a meeting needed to be had with the other gods to make a final decision.”

  Terrin watched her, his face inflexible, except the eyes, which churned with a new emotion, one she couldn’t place. “I suppose I have to thank you. But you shouldn’t have spoken to her for so long. Now you’re on her watch list.”

  “I thought I already was, what with the prophecy.”

  Terrin made a sound of acknowledgement but he looked to be deep in thought as he scrutinized the swirling patterns in the marble floor.

  “I talked to Macaria too. ‘Blessed Death’ she’s called. She mentioned something odd. That if I went to her afterlife, I’d be protected from other gods. That certain other gods use the souls that come to them in the afterlife for different purposes.”

  Terrin didn’t look surprised.

  Lyra continued. “But she also said that Techni would know more about that. What does that mean?”

  Terrin’s brows lowered. “He’s dead now, he can’t hurt you,” he said, though his voice was less convincing than Lyra would have hoped.

  Suddenly he stood and held out the pendant. Drops of water fell from his sleeve.

  She grasped the stone, her fingers brushing his palm. She detected a shiver through him. “Terrin, you’re freezing. Please go take a hot bath and change into dry clothes. And do try not to go out anymore today. You need rest or you’ll die of exhaustion.”

  He searched her eyes before his gaze slid to her bathtub. “The trouble is, my bath is out of commission from the storm. Yours is the only working one on this floor.”

  Lyra blinked. “So go to another floor to find one.”

  Terrin sauntered to the bath and stuck his hand in.

  “Don’t! I just used that water!” Her face heated.

  The corner of Terrin’s mouth lifted. “It’s still hot. I think I’ll use it.”

  Lyra’s jaw dropped. “No you will not!”

  She strode to the tub and pushed him aside, pulling the plug on the bottom to drain it. Her hand slipped on the edge of the tub and her towel loosened when she caught herself. Terrin didn’t attempt to help. She clutched the garment tight to her chest and marched away from him. Terrin shrugged and turned the faucet on, testing the water while it ran until he was satisfied with the temperature.

  She opened her mouth but no sound came out. She tried again, her voice having risen a few octaves. “You can’t just barge in here and use my bathtub!”

  Terrin quirked an eyebrow at her. “It’s not your bathtub I thought, just like that’s not your chair.”

  Lyra pressed her lips together and fought off a curse word. She strode to her walk-in closet and went inside, leaving the door open slightly for light, and changed into a comfortable cotton dress with long, flowy sleeves. She walked out to find Terrin submerged in the tub, his head back and his eyes closed. She ignored him and sat on her bed, bringing the brush through her tangles.

  “You do, however, have two chairs that do belong to you.” Terrin said from the tub, his eyes still closed.

  “What are you talking about?” She stole a glance at him as he ran two hands through his wet, dark hair. Her stomach flipped.

  “Two thrones, I should clarify.”

  Lyra rolled her eyes even as a knot formed in her stomach. “I won’t be claiming those. I have no need for a Kingdom, let alone two.”

  “Hmm, where did my power-hungry Lyra go?”

  His voice was a purr.

  Her thoughts stalled at the intimate way he say ‘my.’ She swallowed her suddenly dry throat.

  It means nothing.

  “What is your title now, Terrin?” she asked to distract herself.

  “Prince, I suppose,” he mumbled. He scrubbed his chest with the cloth, the soap sudsing into a rich, white foam. Gone entirely was the polite, stiff Terrin from just moments before. She wondered at the change. The man was an enigma.

  Lyra began plaiting her hair into one long, thick braid to the side. Wisps of shorter curls plucked out of their own accord along her hairline as they dried.

  “When do you think it will be safe enough to travel to Terra?”

  Terrin stopped scrubbing, his gaze intent on her. “We predict a month before the water level goes back to normal in Terra and the debris is cleared. Why?”

  “Isn’t it obvious? I have to go home at some point.” Even as she said it, her heart broke a little.

  Terrin didn’t respond. She pulled her covers over herself and replaced the pendant around her neck. Her body relaxed instantly and she picked up a book she’d been reading before they left. It was a lovely, mind-numbing romance. She leafed through the novel until she found her spot, and began reading. Terrin’s movements sounded in the sloshing and tinkling of water. She could see him in the corner of her eye but tried not to notice. She read the same page three times before she gave up and clapped the book closed.

  “Where can I find the priest...?” Her words died on her lips as she looked up. Terrin stood fully naked in the tub, water running off of his sculpted bronze chest and abs, and...lower. She looked away.

  He snorted. “It’s nothing you haven’t seen before, Lyra.”

  “Yes, but that was when we were all drunk. It’s different when you’re sober.”

  “I didn’t drink,” he said, giving her a pointed look.

  Her soul withered.

  Shyte, that means he remembers everything about what I did in full clarity.

  “I have to apologize for how I acted that night. I wasn’t myself.” The words hurt coming out but she made herself say them.

  “That’s debatable.”

  “It is not! I don’t normally waltz around naked for all to see, or...fight you while naked either. I’m sorry anyone had to see that.” She buried her face in her hands.

  “Hmm. Oriel seemed to enjoy it.”

  She frowned. “Oriel is infatuated with me because of the bond. He isn’t acting like himself. We need to break it. It’s ruining our friendship and my friendship with Poppi.”

  Terrin sat on the edge of her bed, the towel wrapped low on his hips. He regarded her carefully. “Does Oriel agree?”

  She thought of Poppi’s words and repeated them. “We’ll have to force his hand.”

  Terrin’s eyebrows rose. “I wish you luck.”

  She shrugged. “I’ll find a way.”

  “When you figure it out, come to me. I will take you there myself.”

  She nodded, avoiding his gaze, then posed her next question. “Terrin, what is your next step? What if Ganymede comes looking for you? Techni said he’s planning something. What if he and Edwin have an army?”

  “There aren’t enough mages on their side for that. We’d crush them. Our militia is strong, and extensive.”

  “Ganymede is very powerful and Edwin is half wolf. Plus they’ll have Ursa to back them up.”

  “Ganymede hasn’t shown his face so far. I doubt he will if he decided to attack. He’d risk others before risking himself. As for Ursa, that remains to be seen. I am keeping close contact with Navi.”

  She ignored the Navi comment. “How many mages do we..I mean do you have?” She never had gotten an answer on this.

  Terrin scrubbed his jaw. “About fifty. We’ve kept track of the them in Terra and gotten most, if not all, to Gem.”

  Her heart sank. “That’s not very many.”

  “They won’t attack right now. Not with all of this flooding and destruction.” He pinned her with a hard look, his eyes the color of charcoal. She leveled her gaze with his and his eyes dipped to her mouth. His lips softened, parting slightly. She could smack him for how beautifully rugged he was. With those serious eyes, his dark features, scruffy jaw and wet hair, falling to the tops of his muscled shoulders, the candlelight playing along the cords of muscles of his arms, his broad chest, his abs...She sighed. The corner of his mouth quirked up and he leaned in, the bed covers
shuffling with the movement.

  She held still.

  Would I really allow him to kiss me again? He isn’t a King anymore, but he’s still royalty. And he hadn’t called off his engagement to Navi, despite everything.

  “Alec thinks the ring Edwin gave me is enchanted and is tracking me,” she blurted and stole a glance up at him. He blinked and drew away, the smoky look he had been giving her vanishing.

  “Then destroy it.”

  “It could be the only thing able to get back into Eclipsa.”

  Terrin sighed. “Give it to me. I’ll keep it safe.”

  She hesitated. “But it’s mine.”

  “Not still feeling sentimental about it, are you? The item belongs to the Kingdom now.”

  “It’s mine. It doesn’t belong to the Kingdom. They are set with stones that Alec gave me over the years. And Edwin gave me the ring, not you.” She sounded like a juvenile even to her own ears. She wished she could take back that last bit.

  He leveled a hard stare at her. “I don’t want him being able to track you, Lyra. At least let me keep it when you go back home.”

  So he does want me gone.

  “Hang on,” she said. She had thought of something. “It were the gems that got me into Eclipsa, not the ring itself, right? The prophecy talked about pieces from all the ends of the earth, but nothing about a ring specifically, or any other enchantment.”

  Terrin grinned, flashing gleaming white, straight teeth, and she ignored the butterflies that erupted when he did. “We can make a new ring out of the gems and destroy Edwin’s.”

  Lyra’s eyes shifted back and forth as the idea took hold. “I just need to get back to my gems at home...how bad do you think the destruction is in the mainland?”

  “We don’t have word yet.”

  Her face fell. “That can’t be good.”

  “I’m sure Oriel has access to the same gems. Ask him.. He’ll fall all over himself to serve you.” His smile tightened, the twinkle in his eye fading.

  “That’s what a gentleman does, Terrin. They serve their women, not the other way around.”

  Lyra whipped her head at the voice. Oriel stood in her doorway, glowering at Terrin. She hadn’t even heard him open the door.

  Terrin hopped off the bed and winked at her and she stuck her tongue out at him. “You know where to find me,” he said. He stalked off, brushing past Oriel as if he wasn’t there.

  Lyra shoved the covers aside and stood. “Why are you here, Oriel?”

  He held up a plate of steaming food. “I brought you dinner. Thought you’d be hungry.”

  “That’s very kind of you. As it happens, I am hungry.” She took the plate from him and set it on the table next to the chair that wasn’t hers.

  Oriel crossed his arms. “Do I get to come in, or is that a privilege only for princes in bath towels?”

  “Oriel, it wasn’t like that.” She felt ten years older. She just wanted peace. She sat and stabbed her fork through a roasted potato.

  “What was it then?”

  “We’re doing the mind thing again?”

  “Why was he here? Why was he naked?”

  “He insisted on using my bath because his was broken.”

  Oriel gave her a disbelieving look. “Lyra, are you really that naive?”

  She shoved potato into her mouth, barely tasting it. “I don’t want to fight with you,” she said through the mouthful of food.

  Oriel sat on the bed, the very spot Terrin had been sitting before. As if realizing that, he scooted over a tad to the left.

  “Oriel. Can you find the gems that were on my ring?”

  He blinked at the change in course. “I’m not sure. The gems on your ring are quite varied. With the flooding, I don’t know how many vendors we will have. I might be able to procure some from vendors in Terra, but again, the destruction has cut off contact with them.”

  “Damn. Do you think we could keep the gems and then reuse them for a new ring?”

  His brow lowered in thought. “I don’t think so. I could ask Persimmon if she knows anything on tracking magic.”

  At the name of Persimmon, Lyra felt a strange roil of something. Jealousy? “No, don’t go to her. I’ll figure it out.”

  Oriel searched her face from beneath long lashes and a wide grin split his face, the kind he used to always wear. The kind that drew Lyra in from the first moment she met him. Lyra couldn’t help but smile in return.

  “You’re jealous,” he said, as if he’d won a contest, standing and walking leisurely to her. He stood above her as she sat. He stretched his arm down to her face. His thumb caught her cheekbone and then wiped a drop of wine from the corner of her mouth. He brought the thumb to his mouth and tasted it. Lyra watched, mesmerized. She stood to tell him to go but before she could utter a word, he caught her head in his hand and lowered his mouth to hers.

  His kiss was light, reverent, exploring. She let the kiss linger without kissing back, allowing herself to feel everything inside of her in its purity without letting her brain ruin it with overthinking. When Oriel increased the pressure of the kiss, Lyra opened her mouth for him. A sharp intake of breath was all Oriel allowed himself before he took her mouth, his tongue gliding with hers, tasting her. He tasted of spice and honey wine. His right hand continued to grasp her head while the other slipped to her lower back. Lyra entwined her arms around his neck and melted into the kiss. It felt safe, right. There wasn’t any thunder or lightening, not like when she kissed Terrin, but it was good all the same.

  She pushed Terrin out of her mind before Oriel could sense she was thinking about him and brought her hands up to cup his face. She eased her body away from his, then her mouth, ending the kiss. Oriel hugged her to him and she buried her face in his chest, clinging tight. His breath was ragged, his heart beating hard against her ear.

  “Let me stay with you,” he rasped out into her hair. She tilted her head back to look him in the eye. He stroked her cheek with the back of his knuckles, his deep brown eyes alight with heat. She didn’t know if he meant stay bonded to her or stay the night. And she wasn’t sure she knew what she wanted to do anymore. Her mind was fuzzy on the details. Why couldn’t she be with him again?

  “If you do want to help, the town could really use--”

  Oriel had never closed the door.

  The nerve of people in this castle when it comes to barging into my room!

  Terrin stood as still as a statue, dressed impeccably in his normal black garb, his hair combed back, still damp. Oriel tightened his grip on her waist, his fingers digging in.

  “Do you know how to knock?” Lyra asked Terrin, glowering at him.

  Terrin’s eyes shifted to Oriel, his expression giving nothing away. The only movement he made was tightening his hands into fists on his sides, then releasing them quickly. Lyra sighed and pried Oriel’s hands off of her waist, then walked to stand in front of Terrin.

  “Go to your room, Oriel,” Lyra sighed.

  Terrin glared at Oriel, waiting. When Oriel didn’t move, Terrin’s jaw clenched. “She told you to leave her room.”

  Lyra waited until Oriel came up to her side. He smirked as he took Lyra’s chin in his hand and turned it gently toward him, surprising her when he leaned in and planted a hard, steamy kiss on her mouth. He pulled back, flashed a dazzling smile, then left without a backward glance. Lyra bit her lips together and turned back to Terrin and almost flinched. His eyes were flinty, his mouth pressed into a flat line.

  “You wanted something?” she asked, hands on her hips. She was tired. Why were people coming in and out of her room all night tonight?

  “Yes,” Terrin said, his affable tone contrasting with his hard countenance. He clasped his hands behind his back.

  Back to that. Two can play at that game.

  “If you would like to help in town tomorrow, we could use help with the cleanup. The flooding is almost completely gone, but debris remains. It could be worthwhile to you if you could find any misplace
d gems scattered in the streets from unlucky gem merchants.”

  Lyra took hold of the door knob. “I would love to help in any way that I can, Sir. What time should I arrive?” Terrin blinked and his eyes narrowed before he recovered.

  “As soon as you rise. Meet me at the portcullis. Wear appropriate attire.” He turned on his heel and left, his shoulders tense, his hands curling into fists so tight his knuckles blanched.

  Lyra slammed the door shut and collapsed on the bed. She dreamed of Edwin holding her down and shoving rings into her mouth while Poppi danced naked with a crown-touting Oriel.

  Chapter Nine

  The ground was spongy with leftover rain, and the air was an odd combination of humid and crisp. The sky was a low, pallid blanket over the island, the sun nowhere in sight, though it was warmer than a late November ought to have been. Dead leaves clung wet to the stone path like paper mache. Lyra wore her extra training pants and a long, plum-colored tunic that reached her knees, covered with her leather vest. She wore her taller boots and hoped she wouldn’t have to wade through any deep flooding. Her hair was braided into two symmetrical plaits, that hung freely down her back like two long, golden ropes. Her pendant was cold against her chest, her ring safely stowed in her vest pocket. The thief knife hung with a light weight at her belt. She shifted from foot to foot, waiting for his Royal Highness, the Prince of Gem. She was always waiting for him, on his order. You’d think he would be more punctual, as a Prince. But as a Prince, he could do as he pleased and not pay any mind to the needs of those around him.

  Even as the thought formed in her mind, she knew it was the furthest thing from the truth. He did care about his people. She had seen that firsthand. He was a prince, recently King, and yet he rescued his people from flooding and cleaned up debris as if he were the hired help. He knew the local shops by name and apprehended a thief personally, even going so far as to replace the funds in her shop with the crown’s money. She’d seen him speaking to his courtiers individually with a concerned, rapt attention, often frustrating Silo with his unconventional way of ruling that ignored decorum and instead illustrated a more intimate relationship with his people. He took the journey himself to retrieve his sister from Eclipsa, not just hiring mages to do it in his stead. Whatever his faults, he couldn’t be accused of not caring for and working for his people.