by Emily L K
“No,” he said. She glanced up. His jaw worked. She’d hurt him. “No, Cori. Do you really think I‘d do that to you?”
“You didn’t speak to me for weeks, how would I know what you would and wouldn’t do?” It was a low blow, and Rowan reeled back, his expression shutting down.
“You were preoccupied with your friends. I thought maybe I was pushing you too hard and that you needed some time to yourself.”
The night he had blocked her out flashed into her mind, spent under the flame tree with Quart. Hot embarrassment flooded her as she wondered how much Rowan knew. Did he disapprove? Was that why he hadn’t spoken to her for weeks?
The words he’d spoken only moments ago repeated in her mind. Do you think I‘d do that to you? Was he referring to the drug-induced state she’d had sex with Quart in? Was he implying that Quart had taken her against her will? Would she have done it if she was sober? She didn’t want to confront that last question.
Nonetheless, it was her life, and she could spent it with whoever she wished. She met his eye steadily, daring him to say something, to berate her, but his expression was guarded and his arms were crossed over his chest. He wouldn’t play her game. She wasn’t even sure he was following the same thread of thought she was.
“So, what does it mean to be your heir?” She said the words with an air of defeat, but it was as much forgiveness as he would get from her. A truce.
His expression finally softened and his arms fell to his side. He gestured to her discarded school robes. “Why don’t you get dressed and I’ll get someone to bring us breakfast. Then we’ll talk.”
They talked, but not alone.
Saasha was the one to bring the breakfast tray and Cori could hear her sister yelling before she even left Rowan’s bedroom. “Tell me where she is! If you’ve done something to her, then so help me I’ll-“
“Saasha!” Cori gained the top of the stairs and had to stop herself from laughing. Saasha - still holding the breakfast tray - was standing only feet away from Rowan with a furious look on her face. Rowan, however, had raised his hands in surrender, completely bewildered by the confrontation.
When Cori called to her, Saasha’s eyes flicked to the top of the staircase and the anger faded from her face.
“Cori, are you all right?” Saasha shoved the tray at Rowan who caught it and took a step away, still looking perplexed. She came towards the stairs and met Cori at the bottom. When Cori stepped off the last step Saasha caught her by the arm.
“Cori, what is going on?”
Cori glanced over her sister’s shoulder at Rowan but Saasha gave her a shake, drawing her attention back. “Don’t look at him. Tell me!“
“Remember to whom you speak,” Cori reminded her lightly. This time Saasha glanced over her own shoulder. Her face paled.
“Oh, don’t stop on account of me,” Rowan said dryly. He moved across the room and set the breakfast tray on the low table beside the sofa. He turned back to the sisters. “I get enough insolence from that one,” he pointed at Cori, “what harm is a little more from you?” His finger moved to Saasha then swept to the lounges. “Sit down, Saasha, I’ll tell you everything.”
“You will?” Saasha and Cori said together. Rowan raised a single eyebrow, and they both hurried to sit without another word.
Rowan did tell Saasha everything. He told her how he and Cori had met and about the dragon dreams. He told her about Cori’s lessons and her confrontations with the Advisor. He even told her about their encounter with Daiyu the night before, though his recount on that incident was insubstantial and he often faltered, as if trying to remember for himself what had happened.
He told the whole story in an even voice, as if he were reading from one of his books. Cori listened in a disbelieving silence. She’d never realised just how much attention Rowan had paid her over the past few years; he told her story with a depth that made her question if she even knew herself.
The sun was in the middle of the sky when he finished. Saasha had no questions, he had told it so thoroughly, but she excused herself so she could think on what he‘d said.
Cori watched her sister collect the untouched breakfast tray and leave the room. As the door clicked closed, Rowan rose from his armchair and came to sit beside Cori on the lounge. He stretched his arm across the back of the sofa behind her and sighed.
“Why can’t we remember what happened last night?” Cori’s eyes lingered on the door but when Rowan didn’t answer she turned to look at him. He’d been staring across the room but her movement caught his attention and his eyes found hers. For a long moment they stared at each other, blue eyes searching gold, or gold eyes searching blue; Cori couldn’t be sure. Rowan sighed again and scuffed his foot on the carpet.
“It was my mistake,” he began. “I underestimated Daiyu’s ability to weave songs. The dragons were never taught to weave, they were too powerful and could be unpredictable. But Cadmus taught Daiyu to use her Hum before the war. I think she wove a spell on us, similar to the one I use to alter the Hiram’s memories.”
“Why would she want us to forget?”
Rowan shrugged his shoulders. “Perhaps we found them out before they were ready to be known? I can’t say for sure.” He gave a sudden huff of laughter. “Her song paired with our Hum intoxication last night could have been very dangerous.”
“Hum intoxication?” Cori queried. It had been weeks since they’d sat and had a conversation like this and she realised all the more keenly how much she’d missed it.
“Do you remember the night I taught you the Dragon’s Song? When you felt the lure of the Hum, removing all your cares and making you feel dizzy?” Cori nodded her assent and he continued. “That’s Hum intoxication, also sometimes referred to as a mental blowout.”
“But when we practice we don’t get Hum drunk.”
Rowan smiled at her play on words. “That’s because we’re in control of the Hum and are manipulating it for our purposes. Last night we let the Hum manipulate us. We let ourselves be lured and seduced by it.”
“But it felt so good,” Cori admitted after a pause. “Like we were undefeatable. Why don’t the Dijem do it all the time?”
“Because - and this is the dangerous part - when you feel ‘undefeatable’ as you put it, you’re more likely to use your own Hum without consideration to your limits. Hum intoxication easily leads to burnout.”
Cori thought back to the night before when they‘d taunted Daiyu and when they‘d seduced a whole room of Hiram. She thought of the way she’d thrown her Hum in with Rowan’s with no regard to the consequences. A cold chill crept down her back. They could have both dropped dead in the centre of the throne room, their minds reduced to ash. It both frightened and excited her. If they had cheated death last night could they do it again?
“Don’t,” Rowan warned, sensing the direction of her thoughts. “Promise me you won’t do it again.”
Cori gazed at him and said nothing. She couldn’t promise that, not even to him. The corner of his mouth curved into a small smile. “At least promise you won’t do it without me.”
And she suddenly knew that relinquishing control of his magic was something Rowan indulged in more often than he should.
AS HIS HEIR, CORI STILL accompanied Rowan to meetings as she had when she was a page, but now she had a chair at the table. Curiosity at being privy to official realm information quickly gave way to bordom, and Cori suddenly understood why Rowan detested having to sit and listen to nobles squabble. The most interesting of these meetings came about two weeks after the graduation ball when all the Heads of State converged on the palace.
They gathered in a meeting room close to the throne room. Large windows let in natural light and the floor beneath the long table was carpeted. Servers had already been to provide refreshments and Cori had an untouched glass of wine before her. She wanted to drink it, but having so many Heads in one room made her afraid to lose any control.
“The Advisor is right,” Rork
of Hale said with an indignant slap of the tabletop. “You cannot choose your own heir without consulting us.”
“We should all have a say in who is selected to run this realm.” Daze of the Nomad Isles. Cori knew he was Quart’s uncle. They had the same hazel eyes and sun kissed skin.
Cori let her gaze move up the table. Bretton of Shaw had been blessedly quiet throughout the conversation, as had Tobin of Resso.
“And who,” the Karalis said softly, “would you recommend? One of your own, Daze? And what would you think of that, Rork? Would you allow a Nomad Islander on the throne?”
The Heads eyed each other uncomfortably. Cori knew Rowan had hit a sore spot. None of them would allow a man of another state to have power over the rest. The entire foundation of Rowan’s rulership was based on the fact that the states disagreed on anything that favoured one over the other. Bretton cleared his throat, and all eyes turned to him.
“Perhaps we should trust the Karalis’ judgement in this. We’ve been without conflict for a thousand years under his rule. If he thinks Cori is the best candidate to replace him - if the need for a replacement ever arises - then I support his decision.”
At the mention of conflict Cori felt a flare of Rowan’s Hum. An instant flash of magic that told her he was searching for Daiyu. He’d been searching once, sometimes twice a day for any sign of the black dragon crossing Hen Goeden and each time he did, it set Cori on edge. Of course, he’d forbidden her to search with him even though her reach was greater.
“Your Hum still lacks finesse,” he’d told her. “It blankets everything in magic and we don’t know who might be listening.”
“But wouldn’t we want other Dijem to hear and come to help?”
“If there are any out there, I don’t want them to know about you yet.” His return to cryptic comments made Cori wonder at the state on his mind.
“Let’s put it to a vote,” Tobin said, drawing Cori’s attention back to the surrounding conversation. “Those in favour of Cori as successor to the throne of Tauta?”
Bretton and Tobin raised their hands immediately. The other men didn’t move and for a moment Cori thought they had lost, then Shannyn of Hearth slowly put his hand in the air.
Rork scowled and Daze thumped the table with his fist. On the other side of the Karalis, the Advisor’s face reddened as he tried to contain his anger. Antoni stood beside her mentor and, apart from the Karalis, seemed to be the only one able to keep her thoughts out of her expression. Cori wiped the back of her hand over her mouth to hide her smile. The Heads who had voted for her lowered their hands and the Karalis stood.
“I’m glad we’ve settled that.” He pivoted and strode from the room. With an apologetic glance up the table at the men who’d voiced their support for her, Cori shoved her chair back and raced after Rowan.
“Are you all right?” She asked when she reached him. His stride was so long she had to run every three steps to keep up with him.
“Fine, why?”
Cori said nothing, she simply walked beside him until his pent up anger was spent.
QUART WAS BACK BUT Cori didn’t go to see him straight away. She stood in Rowan’s study and stared without seeing at one of his maps on the wall. She let her eyes lose focus, and the lines wended together in an indistinguishable sea of colour. With every day that had passed without any sign of Daiyu, Rowan had become more agitated.
A growl of frustration made her look over her shoulder to the desk. He sat there, his hair in disarray from his newfound habit of raking his fingers through it. His head was lowered, pressed into one hand. His other hand was on the desktop and it was clenched into a fist. Cori could see the tendons standing out on his forearm.
She watched warily for a moment. She was worried about him, but also frightened by his volatile attitude. She had weeks ago stopped asking if he was all right, or if she could help. She thought of Quart and the time with him she was missing out on by being stuck there, but she didn’t dare ask to leave; Rowan had already indicated his distaste at her choice of lover.
She caught her bottom lip between her teeth as she watched him crumbling before her, unsure of what to do. Finally she sighed and sat down opposite him. She reached out and placed her hands over his clenched fist. It trembled under her touch before he relaxed, letting his hand open.
Cori turned it over and examined the marks where his nails had bitten into his palm. She ran her thumb over them and wiped away the blood. Rowan drew a deep breath, pushed his hair out of his face and propped his chin on his other hand to look at her. He gave her a tired smile.
“I’m sorry, I haven’t been much fun lately.”
“You’re never much fun,” she teased lightly, now tracing the lines of his palm with her index finger. Truthfully, she missed the carefree Rowan. It felt like an age since they’d last sat in the garden with a hot coffee. She couldn’t even recall when she’d last seen him eat, and as his heir she spent most of her days with him.
“Sorry,” he said again. They fell silent for a while, the only sound was their breathing mixed with the rush of the ocean beyond the cliffs.
“Maybe they decided not to come south,” Cori suggested finally. “Maybe because we caught them out, they’ve changed their plans.”
“Maybe,” Rowan said, though Cori could tell he wasn’t convinced by her reasoning.
“I wish you’d let me help,” she whispered. Rowan squeezed her hand but said nothing. It was still a no.
“You should go,” he offered, and she chewed on her lip. His eyes were clearer, and he seemed more himself. “I know he’s back. Go and see him.”
“Are you sure?” She didn’t want to leave him like this but she desperately wanted to see Quart.
“Yes. Go.”
She stood and made for the door, keeping her footsteps deliberately slow. She looked back once to see him inspecting the hand she’d just been holding then left to find Quart.
In the corridor outside the Karalis’ suite she ran into Olivia returning to the pages’ quarters. The other girl stopped when she saw Cori and a grin spread slowly over her face.
“What?” Cori snapped. She was glad she had her own rooms now and no longer had to share with this bitch. Olivia didn’t bow, as decorum dictated when in the presence of the heir, but Cori was beyond caring what Olivia did, as long as she stayed out of her way.
“Oh nothing,” Olivia said flippantly. She brushed her hair over a shoulder and batted her eyelashes innocently. “Just congratulate Quart on his recent nuptials for me, will you?”
Cori’s heart beat faltered and a wave of cold disbelief washed over her. Olivia’s smile only widened as she flicked her hair over her shoulder and pushed past Cori to continue on her way.
Chapter Seventeen
Cori felt sick as she hurried through the corridors of the palace. A part of her insisted that Olivia was lying, but a bigger part - a part that was ripping her heart in two - wondered why Olivia would bother. She found Quart in a hallway near the throne room.
“Oh. Cori,” he said by way of greeting. His eyes darted up the hallway behind her then he checked over his shoulder. With another wrench of her heart she knew Olivia had told the truth.
“We should talk,” he said, gesturing to a small receiving room down the hall. A lump formed in her throat and her stomach churned painfully. All she could do was nod. She followed him into the room and he closed the door.
“So... How’s it going being the heir?” He asked with false heartiness. Cori stared at him until his smile faded. He shifted from one foot to the other. “So I thought I should tell you that I got married over the break.”
Cori knew it already, but when he voiced it aloud, it was like a sword through her chest.
“Did you know before you went home?” Her voice cracked. Quart hesitated before he gave a jerky nod of his head then dropped his eyes to his feet.
“Did I mean anything to you?” His outline was blurred through her tears but she didn’t want to let them
fall, not in front of him. He didn’t quite meet her eye.
“Of course,” he said, “we had fun, right? But I would never have been able to marry you, Cori.” Finally he looked at her directly. “You’re human, and a servant. My parents would never have allowed it and you know my uncl-“
“I am neither of those things, not anymore,” Cori cut him off. The tears spilled down her cheeks, hot and angry. She had been stupid to trust him. Stupid to fall in love with a Hiram.
Quart gave a noncommittal shrug and she felt something within her snap. She wanted to kill him, and all the Hiram who were just like him. She wanted to wring his neck and splash his blood across the floor.
“Cori?” Something about her expression must have frightened him because he took a step back. Then another. It made Cori hate him even more.
She flung out her hand and felt it impact with the ghost of flesh between them. She curled her fingers around it, feeling the hot throb of a pulse under her palm. Quart’s hands flew to his throat and his fingers scrabbled, inches from his own flesh, at the invisible force that held him. With immense satisfaction Cori tightened her hold and watched his facereddened with the blood trapped beneath his skin. His mouth gaped and his eyes bulged as he tried to draw breath and Cori grinned; only a small squeeze and his neck would snap.
STOP!
Rowan’s fury was so cold that his command knocked her from her red haze. She loosened her hand automatically and Quart sagged to the floor, gasping for air. His fingers found his throat, purple and bruised. He stared up at Cori in horror, his eyes growing wide as they met hers. But she didn’t care for Quart anymore.
Come here. Now! Rowan’s voice was thunder, and it echoed into every corner of her mind. Without looking at the boy she‘d almost killed, she whirled to the door and stormed from the room.
Rowan didn’t wait for her. She could feel him approaching through the palace as wave after wave of his wrath crashed over her. His anger almost abated hers, but not quite. She marched past Hiram who were cowering under the invisible onslaught of Rowan’s Hum, shoving them when they got in her way. She knew in the back of her mind - in the almost indistinguishable logical part - that she had used their magic. Hiram magic.
