The servant, Jenny, bustled into the room and helped him to a chair. She knelt down of the floor to clean up the glass, but Lord Maynard waived her away. “Shut the door and stay away until I call for you.” When her footsteps faded, he asked, “Are you going to faint on me, boy?”
The address snapped him out of his stupor. “No.”
“Good. Because you’d be laying there until you came to.” He patted the stub of his leg. “You’d better have a seat. I expect you want to know the whole story.”
Silvano didn’t remember walking across the room or sinking into the chair, but he ended up there all the same.
“Arnoux and Emilio were brothers. Arnoux was the oldest by three years, and while many expected him to follow in his father’s footsteps as the next Miestryri, he wasn’t cut out for the responsibility. Where Emilio was aggressive and relished battle, Arnoux preferred to stay home, spending more time in the gardens or in the sea than in the war council. Though his Gift was more powerful than any we’d ever seen, he couldn’t stomach using it for violence. The Miestryri favored Emilio and showered him with praise and attention. He made a match, betrothing Emilio to a woman of extraordinary beauty and grace—Neva.”
Silvano’s head snapped up at the sound of his mother’s name.
“Years passed, and Emilio grew from adolescence to manhood. He spent more time at sea, battling the pirates and making himself into a legend. While he was gone, Arnoux and Neva developed a close friendship. Then the friendship blossomed into something more romantic. You only had to be in the same room for a moment before their love suffocated you. Emilio was too busy with his conquests to notice that his betrothed’s affections had been stolen. One day, Emilio returned from a voyage to find his Neva pregnant with his brother’s child. In a fit of rage, Emilio swore vengeance. The betrothal had been broken and our laws were clear. Emilio had every right to kill his brother and claim his bride. Neva pleaded for Arnoux’s life. She swore that she would be faithful to Emilio as long as they both lived if he spared his brother, sending him into exile instead. Emilio agreed, but he demanded that she take herbs to end the pregnancy and rid her womb of his brother’s spawn. Neva refused. She told him that if he forced her, she would fight him for the rest of her life. Each moment of every day, she would make his life miserable, and if she had the opportunity to escape, she would take it.”
Silvano leaned forward, resting his head in his hands. His chest tightened, and his body went numb. It couldn’t be true. It just couldn’t. And yet, it made a certain amount of sense. Why his father—no, not his father—had despised him from his earliest memories. As if understanding his inner turmoil, Maynard offered him a tight smile and slid his glass across the desk. Silvano picked it up and downed it in one mouthful, relishing the burn.
Maynard continued, “They were married the next day. Lucan advised Emilio to keep the pregnancy a secret if he wanted to become Miestryri after his father. The people would not respect a cuckold. He planned on sending you away with your father into exile the moment you were born, but Neva took one look at you and fell in love. She would not be separated from you, not for a moment.”
“Why?” Silvano whispered, the sound little more than a gasp in the wind.
“Because she loved you. And the more she loved you, Emilio despised you equally, for you reminded him of his traitorous brother. It wasn’t so bad when you were a child, but as you grew, it became clear you inherited your father’s personality as well. When your mother died, you lost her protection. The Miestryri sent you to Kearar, hoping that you would die there, or perhaps wed the Rei’s daughter. When you returned, whole and healthy, he and Lucan resorted to desperate measures.”
Silvano shook his head slowly. “You knew.”
“I did.”
He frowned, then lifted his gaze slowly. “Then… why did you agree to a betrothal between me and Olielle? If you knew that Arnoux was my father and that I’d never inherit the throne, it seems like a poor move on your part.”
“That had little to do with me. Neva and my wife were the best of friends, and it was their wish that we unite our families. They had the agreement drawn before the two of you were out of swaddling clothes, and once it was signed, not even the Miestryri could break it. I’ll admit, when you were exiled, I seized on the opportunity to marry her into a more suitable arrangement.”
“I can’t blame you for doing what you thought best for Olielle. I doubt you were happy about her being tied to a dead man with no claim to the throne,” Silvano said bitterly.
Pity flooded the Lord’s face. “This must be a lot for you to take in.”
“A lot for me to take in?” His laughter sounded hysterical even to his own ears. “I just lost the navy to my sister, discovered a man who I’d thought was an ally was actually a traitor, and a dangerous prisoner escaped from the castle dungeon. Now, I find out that my father wasn’t actually my father. That my uncle sired me before being banished to gods only know where. Where is he? Is he still alive?”
“I don’t know. The last time I saw him was before you were born when he boarded a ship heading east.”
“He could be out there, somewhere.” Silvano stood abruptly, his chair screeching across the wooden floor. The walls closed in around him. He almost ran from the room, but a thought stopped him short. “Who else knows about my parentage?”
“Only the Miestryri, Lucan, and myself.”
“Swear yourself to secrecy.”
Lord Maynard huffed, looking offended. “I’ve managed to keep my lips shut for the past twenty-six years.”
He slammed his palms down on the desk and leaned forward. “Swear it!” In the back of his mind, he knew he was being unjustly harsh, but his emotions had gotten the best of him. Maynard leaned back in his chair, showing real fear for the first time. Silvano couldn’t help but feel ashamed, and he couldn’t bear to meet the man’s eyes.
“I swear. I will not tell a soul what I’ve told you today.”
“Good.” Silvano paused at the door. “Keep it that way.”
15
That afternoon Silvano perched on the edge of his decidedly uncomfortable throne. His shoulders sagged under the weight of the revelation. One hand lay limp in his lap, while the other traced circles around the sea glass in his forehead. He was an imposter. A usurper. A lifetime of planning and scheming for nothing. He had never been the heir—merely a fatherless parasite. After everything he’d been through, his sister was truly the one who was meant to be Miestryri. Arianna. The one true Miestryri.
He thought back to Opal’s prophecy when he’d left Tregydar. She’d told him to reclaim his birthright. Blinded by ambition, he’d took that to mean the throne. But if his father was really the Miestryri’s brother, Silvano was meant to be her right-hand man. Her advisor. Her protector.
Instead, he was her enemy.
How could he have botched this so spectacularly?
He had only one choice left. He would abdicate the throne and turn over the control of Crystalmoor to Arianna. Then, provided she allowed him to live, he would go back into permanent exile.
Jax walked over and stood at his left hand. “Are you okay?”
Silvano swallowed his guilt. He’d barely spoken to Jax since returning from Lord Maynard’s house. He should tell him the truth about his parentage, but fear stopped his tongue. What if after learning the truth, Jax abandoned him? It was the intelligent thing to do. Sooner or later, Arianna would succeed, and when that happened, Jax could be executed as a traitor right alongside him. Keeping this secret was cowardice. “I feel like all my dreams, my ambitions, have been burned to the ground. What do I do now?”
“Are you asking as my Miestryri, or as my friend?”
Silvano let out a humorless laugh. “I’m not Miestryri. I can’t be.”
A commotion in the hall, followed by shouting, drew his attention. The door burst open and a man walked inside. “I beg to differ.”
Jax stepped in front of the throne, taking on a
protective stance. Silvano shot out of his seat at the unfamiliar voice, his hand going to the hilt of his sword. The man was average height and painfully thin. His silver robes hung off his body like curtains. His white hair was cut bluntly at his jawline, heightening the sharpness of his cheekbones. He carried himself like a man in authority, someone who was used to being obeyed without question.
Every hair on Silvano’s body rose. There was something about the man that felt wrong, like a film of oil on water. “And who are you supposed to be?”
A red-faced guard ran into the throne room a moment later, wheezing as he announced, “Head Magi Cadmus requests an audience.”
“Requests? Hm… that’s a tad bit politer than I would phrase it. Demanded is closer to the truth.” Cadmus stopped five feet away at the base of the dais. Though Silvano was taller by several inches, he got the sense that Cadmus was staring down at him.
He stifled a shudder. “And why should I grant you an audience? The Order has no authority here. Crystalmoor still holds sovereignty, and I am still the Miestryri.”
“I’m glad to hear it. I would like for you to remain Miestryri.”
That pulled him up short. He squinted suspiciously at the Head Magi. “Why?”
Cadmus studied him intently, as if he could see through his flesh and down into the bone. Silvano resisted the urge to pull his clothes tighter around him. Then, Cadmus smiled like a crocodile with a meal in sight. “Let’s just say that it would be a mutually beneficial arrangement.”
“I can’t see how it would benefit you at all.” Silvano clamped his lips shut before he revealed that Crystalmoor was in chaos. Arianna and her sharks were already circling the carnage, and the last thing he needed was to invite more. It would turn the civil unrest into a feeding frenzy he couldn’t hope to survive. He changed tactics, turning the focus on his deep-rooted hatred of the Order. “Just two months ago, my companions and I launched an offensive attack on the Order which did not end well for you, if I remember correctly. On a personal note, I have little incentive to form an alliance with the Order. The Magi left me a dreg while the Tregydarian rebels Gifted me.”
“Your attack was nothing more than a small hiccup in the grand scheme of things. My disciples had the mess cleaned up within a week. And as for your Gifting… I allow my Magi a certain number of… let’s call them freedoms, when it comes to such matters. You, Silvano Lei Miore’, were never meant to be a dreg, but the Magi stationed here was bribed to refuse your Gifting.”
“What?” Silvano’s fists clenched. “You lie.”
“I most certainly do not.” Cadmus pulled a scroll from his robes and held it aloft. “This is a correspondence I received twenty-five years ago from Magi Phillip who detailed the arrangement he made with the Miestryri and his advisor. Not only was he compelled to bind your Gift with the suppressive elixir, but he also gave you a Deleo to further suppress your abilities.”
Silvano’s hand went to his neck where the Deleo had hung for over two decades. He’d thought it was a gift, but Opal had recognized it for what it was. She’d taken it from him and had it destroyed. Days later, his Gift had been awakened.
Jax took the scroll from Cadmus and read it, his face paling. “It’s true, Miestryri.”
“Now, I understand that you have… an unfortunate history with the Order, but I believe we can put that behind us and move forward as allies.”
Silvano sank back into the throne. The Head Magi’s presence made little sense. Least of all his desire to form an alliance. A dozen questions flitted through his mind but the one that finally escaped was, “Why me?”
“I respect power and influence.”
“The power I have tenfold, but influence? Hardly,” he scoffed. “You’d only have to sit through five minutes of a council meeting before you realized it.”
“You’re too modest. Did you not win approval for not one, but two, highly ambitious projects?”
In the back of his mind, Silvano wondered how Cadmus knew about that. Did the Order have spies in the small council as well, or was his knowledge a byproduct of his Gift as a Magi? Still, he couldn’t take credit for that victory. He shook his head slowly. “That was achieved through threats and blackmail, not my charming personality. It seems I make new enemies on a daily basis.”
“Curious. Would you consider Mara to be an enemy?”
Silvano glanced up sharply. “I’d say my feelings about her are irrelevant.”
“Indeed. Yet the fact that you watched her get captured and haven’t yet mounted a rescue tells me everything I need to know. You’re afraid of her, aren’t you? When you close your eyes at night, it’s her face you see, tormenting your nightmares. You’re terrified because you finally saw her lose control, exposing herself for what she really is.”
Sweat beaded on his forehead, and he clutched the armrests on the throne. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Jax throw him a curious look. He squeezed his eyes shut as the memories flooded through his brain. He whispered, “A monster.”
“The world is full of monsters, Silvano Lei Miore’. Let me help you defeat yours.”
Silvano pulled himself from the unending torment and fixed Cadmus with a hard stare. The Head Magi had a talent for words, and obviously had no qualms about playing a man’s fears against him. He couldn’t afford to be played into a bad deal, no matter how desperate he was. “And what would you get out of this arrangement?”
Cadmus jerked back, apparently taken off guard by the blunt question. “Excuse me?”
“You’re a powerful man.” Silvano waved his hand in his direction. “I doubt you would do anything for free out of the goodness of your heart. So tell me, what would you want in return”
“Do you know what I find interesting? You remind me of myself when I was younger. We have similar tragic family histories, you and I. My mother abandoned me, and my father was executed for consorting with a Seer. The man who raised me, my grandfather, was a harsh, unyielding man. I tried so hard to please him, desperately seeking love from a man incapable of the emotion. Each misstep was punished swiftly, and brutally, until I learned not to fail. When he died, and I inherited the mantle of Head Magi, I thought I could do better. I wished for a better future for the Order, just as you hope for a better future for Crystalmoor. A mistake, I soon discovered. If I offered my disciples an apple, they stole the whole bushel. They did not fear me, and so they did not respect me. Without that foundation, you have only the illusion of control.” Cadmus edged closer, pinning Silvano with his stare like a predator. “You ask what I would gain in return? Obedience. My disciples will eliminate your rebellion and unite Crystalmoor under your control, much like they aided Rei Tomar when his sister was mounting a coup. In return, you will pledge your loyalty to me.”
Silvano swallowed, feeling suddenly small. “And if I refuse?”
Cadmus smiled cruelly. “You’re an intelligent man, are you not? One thousand of my best disciples are stationed outside the city, awaiting my signal. If you choose to throw away my generous offer, they will kill every last man, woman, and child while you watch, powerless to stop it. Then I will tear down your precious city and wash it into the sea until there is no evidence that it ever existed. And then, we will travel to every city, every village, and every hovel, reducing them to rubble and ash. Only once you have lost everything dear to you, I will end your pitiful life. Like Seralle, Crystalmoor will fade into oblivion, and your name will never be spoken again, except when whispered as a curse from fearful lips.”
Silvano trembled. “You are alone and unarmed. Defenseless. I could have Jax run you through right now.”
Cadmus seemed unconcerned by the threat. “He won’t. Do you want to know why? Because he knows the truth of my words. He sees you, a broken man with no hope—a dead man walking—someone who has already given up. Pitiful. I offer you an opportunity to not only stay in power, but to turn your vision for Crystalmoor into reality.”
Jax refused to meet his eyes. Silvano let out a bre
ath, realizing that he’d been trapped. “So you’re saying that I have no real choice.”
“You always have a choice. It’s just that some are more lethal than others.”
“Fine. I accept your terms,” he spat. “If you can defeat my sister’s rebellion and unify the country, I will swear my obedience to you.”
“Good.” Cadmus dipped his chin once. As he was turning to leave, he said, “Oh, one last thing. I’ve learned to not take men on their word alone. Words are, after all, as plentiful as sand and equally as worthless. So, when I return to Order Headquarters, I will require a token of your loyalty to ensure you will not break faith the moment I leave.”
A horrible suspicion sprung to mind. “What kind of token?”
“You already know. A pleasure doing business with you. We’ll be in touch.”
Cadmus swept from the room without another word. Silvano collapsed, his head in his hands. What had he just done?
16
One week. That’s all it took. One week for the Order to sweep through East rock and wipe out the rebellion. One week to successfully unite the people under Silvano’s rule. He should have been overjoyed with the results, but he couldn’t help but feel sick. How had the Order done it? Perhaps it was better not to know.
And Cadmus… Silvano’s loyalty wasn’t something he trusted on word alone. And now it was time to pay the price.
His long-time friend, Tomar, the Rei of Kearar, had entered into a similar agreement when his sister, Tamara, had attempted to seize control. After the Order had wiped out her supporters, unifying Kearar under Tomar, the disciples had taken his oldest son, Tamil, as a hostage. And now they would do the same to him.
Silvano’s feet were leaden when he paused inside the natural archway of a hidden inlet. For generations, children would come here to splash in the shallows. The warm water—a few degrees warmer than the sea—reached his knees as he waded inside. Sea turtles swam lazily by, weaving through the brightly-colored coral, munching on seaweed as they went. And there, up ahead, was Lucinda, stroking Glass in the bright afternoon sun.
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