Crown of Sunlight

by Payton Taylor

  Though Jo wished her sister was there, she was glad when she found out the king hadn’t taken Sunny as well.

  She turned on the telecast and flipped through the thousands of channels. Half of them were in languages she didn’t understand. Every news station blared information about the lost Viannese princess and wondered aloud about her younger sister’s connection with the Ettrian King.

  Apparently, Asteria hadn’t told them she’d been kidnapped, only that she’d left to visit Ettria. One reporter remarked that Azmodeous had been friends with her mother and made suggestive comments about Jo and the king’s similar looks.

  She flipped the station to some movie about two men who couldn’t let their parents know they were Matches because they were in rival gangs.

  One of them was an Ice Elemental and froze a pond for them to skate on. It was all really romantic, and Jo thought about Khione and wondered distantly if she could do something like that for Marzanna.

  A soft knock at the door had her bolting upright and muting the telecast. She stared at the door, unmoving. She knew who was on the other side. Only two people came to her room, and the maid had brought lunch and cleaned it up a few hours ago.

  After a moment the knob turned, and Jo watched it with detached interest as it jiggled before the door swung slowly open. The king stepped in and closed the door silently behind him. His shoulders were stiff, and his eyes took in every detail of her, as they did each time he came to visit. They stared at each other for several long moments before the king’s lips pulled into an awkward smile. He always smiled at her that way, as if he was just learning how.

  Azmodeous cleared his throat before speaking. “Are you comfortable enough?” His tone was surprisingly unsure.

  Jo just stared at him. He asked the same questions every day, and every day she told him to kiss her ass. He waited for her to answer as if this time it would be something different.

  He was right, she did have a different answer today.

  “Blow me,” she said.

  Azmodeous ground his teeth. He always tried not to get angry.

  He always failed.

  “Have I not provided every comfort for you?” he snarled. “Have I not given you gowns and jewels and spoken only kind words to you?”

  “You kidnapped me,” Jo seethed. “You took me from my sister. I don’t care about gowns and jewels, and your kind words mean less than nothing when you keep me locked in this room like some kind of pet to visit once or twice a day when you get bored.” Her voice rose a bit with each word, getting stronger but not louder. It was a talent she had, to make people listen, to make them flinch without raising her voice above its normal tone.

  She took a step forward, toward the man who thought their shared blood made him her father, but he held his ground.

  “You came into my house,” she told him. “You invaded my mind and controlled my body. You ripped me away from my sister. Took away my chance at being happy,” she stepped forward again, and the king watched her with his pale eyes and leaned back a bit. “You are ridiculous. And if you think, for even one minute, that I could be happy here, with you of all people, you’re grossly mistaken. I see the way you walk around here, the fear in your subjects’ eyes when you enter a room.” Jo gave him her best sneer. “You’re disgusting.”

  The slap was expected, and the pain across her cheek was a reminder. No matter how kind or fatherly this man tried to act, he was a murderer and a tyrant. She smiled a bit at his reaction, at her proof of what he was. He hadn’t hit her before today.

  She’d finally struck a nerve.

  The king, whose expression had grown colder with each passing remark, looked down at the hand he had slapped her with. “Let’s get one thing straight,” he took a step forward, and this time it was Jo who leaned back. Something in his expression melted the smile from her face. “I am your King, and you will follow orders when they are given,” he took another step forward, then another, until Jo had to step back. He kept coming until her legs hit the arm of the sofa.

  He lifted his hand and Jo couldn’t help it—she flinched.

  But he only examined his nails as he said, “I have no time for your temper tantrums. I have provided you with every comfort, but should you continue to act ungrateful, it will be taken away.”

  His eyes left his hand to meet hers, and she felt him blast his way into her mind. Pain wracked through her body, and she fell to her knees.

  “You will speak to me with respect, or I will force you to.” His grip on her mind tightened, and she panted for breath. “I am capable of making you feel pain you’ve never imagined. I want to be a good father to you, Josephine, but I can only be a good father if you are a good daughter. Do you understand?”

  Unable to reply, Jo could only nod. The pain lessened as the king left her mind, leaving a raw feeling behind her eyes. Jo could only glare up at him. There were no words to express the rage simmering inside of her.

  When she remained silent, he smiled a serpentine smile. “Tomorrow we will resume your training. We can’t have people thinking my daughter is weak.” With that, he turned and strode from the room.

  For several moments Jo didn’t move. She couldn’t move.

  Then, she stood and picked up the lamp from the table beside her. She hurled it at the door, wishing it was his head.

  *****

  Several hours later, Jo lay spread across the bed, breathing heavily as feathers rained down around her. After she had thrown a chair through the telecast and tipped over the coffee table, the trail of destruction had followed her into the bedroom where she had ripped apart all the blankets and pillows. A chair lay in pieces in the corner from when she had thrown it against the wall.

  The balcony door was open from her continued trips outside, trying to judge whether or not she could survive the fall into the water below. But she was pretty sure that from this height the water would probably feel more like concrete when she hit it.

  “I really love what you’ve done with the place,” said a disembodied voice, causing Jo to sit up and scream at the top of her lungs.

  She looked all around the room, but saw nothing.

  I’ve finally lost it , she thought.

  “Oh, sorry,” the voice said, and instantly a body appeared sprawled across one of the ripped-up chairs. A moment later another person materialized next to him, the man who had saved her sister and then danced with her at the ball. He yanked his hand out of the other man’s, the man she had run into at the ball, and stepped forward.

  “You!” Jo shouted, unsure which man she was yelling at.

  Both of them , she decided.

  The one she’d run into shrugged himself out of the chair. “Me,” he said, smiling as if he found himself to be very agreeable.

  The man who had danced with her sister rolled his eyes. “Please excuse him, Princess. My name is Westin Airoldi, you may not remember me, but—”

  “I remember you,” Jo told him. It was hard to forget a guy who looked like that, especially when he’d saved her sister’s life.

  His broad lips pulled into a slight smile before he continued, “I’m here to tell you that your sister is safe and that we are going to find a way to get you out of here. I’m working with Noelani, and Leo here will keep an eye on you when I can’t.

  We’re going to help you,” his voice was earnest, and Jo noticed it softened a bit when he called Sunny by her Writhian name.

  Jo wanted to believe him—he certainly looked capable of breaking her out of a castle. But she was wary. What if this was a test, some kind of sick joke the king had decided to play on her as punishment for earlier? She eyed the men in front of her, debating on whether or not they could be trusted.

  Westin looked trustworthy, she decided. His golden eyes were serious, and she saw his intelligent mind at work behind them. His body was corded with thick muscle, and the silver steel of several knives glinted against his dark skin. She couldn’t read his mind, but she sensed that it was a capabl
e mind, full of steady thoughts and strategic plans.

  It was the other man that gave her pause.

  Leo, Westin had called him.

  He did not look trustworthy. He was taller than Westin by a few inches, his body leanly muscled in a way that reminded Jo of a sharpened dagger. His clothes were extravagant and looked expensive, and his black hair was artfully messy. A row of silver hoops pierced one of his ears. An eyebrow piercing glinted against his deeply tanned skin. He looked like a careless playboy. But it was his eyes she didn’t trust. Dark brown, almost black, they seemed to laugh at her. The mind behind them was sharp and keen, and locked down even tighter than it had been at the ball.

  Leo watched her as she regarded him before turning to Westin, “Told you she wouldn’t believe us.”

  Westin nodded, “As if I could blame anyone for not trusting you.” He turned to Jo, “Noelani said you may not believe us, so she told me a code word.” He glanced back to Leo before saying, “Legolas.”

  It was so absurdly unexpected that Jo couldn’t help but laugh. Only Sunny would use the name of the elf they’d both had a crush on all through their childhood as a codeword.

  “What?” Leo asked, “Why are you laughing? Is it dirty? It’s dirty, isn’t it?” he grinned and waggled his eyebrows.

  Jo snorted, “It’s only dirty in Sunny’s mind,” she said, causing Westin to arch a brow.

  “Do you believe me now?” Westin asked, determined to get things back on track.

  Jo nodded. “Only Sunny would know that word and what it means to us both. How do you plan on getting me out?”

  Westin grimaced, “I’m not entirely sure yet, but we’re working on a plan. I promise I’ll keep you updated.”

  Jo brightened, struck by an idea. “Can you deliver her a note?” she asked. If she could have some means of contact with her sister, it would make all the difference.

  Westin thought about it a moment before shaking his head sadly, “I don’t think that’s a smart idea," he told her. “If I got caught with a note, the king could trace it directly to Noelani through me.”

  Jo nodded. She was disappointed, but it made sense.

  “I could do it,” Leo spoke up. She’d almost forgotten he was there.

  Jo looked up at him, searching his eyes for a trick.

  Westin shook his head again, “Even if it was delivered by one of your spiders, it could still be traced back here. The king wouldn’t figure it out immediately, but it would make him start looking for the people he can’t trust.”

  “What if I write it in English?” Jo asked. “English?” Westin asked, the unfamiliar word jumbled on his tongue.

  “The language we spoke on Earth,” Jo explained, “No one here would be able to read it except us.” She was practically thrumming with excitement.

  Leo grinned. “I like the way you think,” he said, “it’s even better than code. Code can be broken, but with no key, the king couldn’t crack an entirely unfamiliar language.”

  Jo could see the gears turning in both Westin and Leo’s minds as they thought it through, both looking for any way in which it could go wrong.

  They must not have thought of anything, because Westin slowly nodded, “We can try it. But I don’t want it to be traced back to this castle in any way, understand, Cassavant?”

  Leo looked offended. “Your lack of faith wounds me.”

  Westin rolled his eyes as the contact at his belt buzzed. He looked at it and sighed, “I have to go, I’m needed at the barracks. I’ll check in on you tomorrow,” he promised Jo before turning to Leo. “Keep an eye on her.”

  Leo gave him a mock salute.

  “Look after my sister,” Jo called as he headed for the door.

  Westin turned back and met her stare. “I promise.”

  After he left, Jo ran to the desk in the bedroom and grabbed a pen and paper, thankful her anger had run out before she’d gotten to them. Leo watched her as she scribbled a note to her sister, pouring out her fear. She glossed over the king’s anger, she didn’t want Sunny to worry.

  When she was done, she had a full page to hand over to Leo. She didn’t want to write too much. He scanned over it, making sure her language was completely unreadable. When he seemed satisfied that it couldn’t be deciphered, he folded it neatly and put it in his pocket. The sunlight from the window glinted off several gaudy rings that flashed on his fingers.

  “Thank you,” Jo told him, meaning it.

  Leo looked her over from head to toe, taking in her loose hair and her gray silk robe she wore open over a black nightgown that reached mid- thigh. She’d been so unnerved and then excited about Westin and him being there that she’d forgotten she wasn’t dressed. She figured it didn’t matter if she wasn’t going anywhere.

  Leo’s eyes met hers, oddly serious. “You’re welcome,” he told her before his lips pulled into a slight smile, “See you later. . . Seph?”

  “Did you actually forget my name?” Jo asked him.

  His teeth flashed white against his tan skin as he grinned, “Sorry, Cupcake, I’m afraid I don’t get paid enough to remember names.”

  Jo rolled her eyes as he left the room. She’d seen into his mind at the ball. A guy like that didn’t just forget names.

  Chapter 26

  Westin

  Writhia, 5219

  Ettria

  Westin looked down at the bags on his arms, full of women's clothes and undergarments, and shook his head.

  He was already out shopping for Noelani.

  She'd been wearing his clothes. His pants were too big for her, so she’d been cinching his belt around them tightly, a belt she’d had to poke a hole in to fit around her small waist. They were also much too long, so she rolled them up three or four times. His shirts were large enough on her that she practically drowned in the fabric. She looked like a child dressed in her father’s clothing. So, he decided to buy her clothing that was actually her size.

  Not to mention, training had been a nightmare. She still didn't know they were Matches, and it wasn’t like he could stay away when he was teaching her to defend herself. And given the situation, he wasn’t sure how to tell her. He went back and forth between wanting to blurt it out or never speaking of it. He could sense that Noelani felt trapped. She hated it in Writhia. He thought it would make things worse for her if he told her.

  What if she didn't feel the same?

  In all the stories he'd heard, people had said Matches have an undeniable attraction and connection, but. . .what if this was different?

  Noelani hadn't lived there and knew nothing of the bond Matches shared. Maybe it hadn't worked on her.

  He didn't like to think about that.

  Ultimately, Westin wanted her to be happy. . . even if that meant he wouldn't be.

  Westin’s guilty conscience over Noelani’s situation grew each day. Being without her sister had taken its toll on her well-being. She came out of the spare bedroom each morning with dark circles under her eyes, and every night he could smell the saltiness of her tears and hear her silently crying herself to sleep.

  And with her so near, he could feel her emotions more strongly than ever. So strongly that her terror and pain woke him from his sleep each night.

  Last night had been the worst. He'd heard a soft whimpering and thrashing of sheets that told him Noelani was having a nightmare. When a frightened shout resounded in his spare bedroom, Westin could no longer just lay there. He knocked on her door first to be polite. He didn't want to storm inside and scare her even more. When there was no answer, he quietly opened the door and crept into her room.

  Noelani lay there covered in sweat with tears streaming down her cheeks, her arms and legs flailing. He rushed to her side and lightly shook her awake.

  She gasped and sat up straight. Her eyes were wild and she lashed out at him, not yet knowing who he was. He wanted her to feel in control, so he let her hand connect with his cheek. When her fists started pounding on his chest, he finally grabbed her wri
sts and then wrapped his arms around her firmly.

  He'd just kept repeating, “you're safe, I’ve got you,” over and over until she'd finally caught her breath and he felt her fear begin to ease.

  "It was that fucking dragon," she said hoarsely.

  "What dragon?"

  As Noelani told him everything she'd been through in “the Forest of Death,” as she called it, he had a whole new respect for her. She'd told him about the Sprites, the Swarog, and the Jo imposters which were technically called Skiftes.

  She was lucky to be alive.

  And just when Westin thought there was no more room for him to worry, he'd asked her how she escaped the Swarog, and she'd told him about the bargain.

  “The gods must've been watching over you,” he said. It all couldn't be a coincidence.

  Though she was traumatized and sad about her sister, she still had an air about her that Westin found entertaining. She was so strong and had managed to make him laugh even if she wasn't trying to. So he prepared himself for whatever he was about to walk in on as he reached his apartment.

  Sure enough, when he walked in she was sitting on the sofa wearing one of his long-sleeved shirts. It was much too long for her arms, and she was flapping the sleeves back and forth with a serious look on her face.

  Westin grinned to himself.

  As he shut the door, she looked up, and instantly stood.

  "How was Jo?" she asked, taking some of the bags from his hands and carrying them over to a table.

  Westin noticed that his house was spotless again. Every day, when he got home from the castle, he saw that Noelani had scrubbed the place top to bottom. Whenever he told her she didn't have to do that, she'd roll her eyes and say, "Please Wes, I'm no freeloader."

  She had also taken to calling him “Wes” and Westin wasn’t sure what to think of that. He sort of liked the way it sounded coming from her lips.

  "She's unharmed."

  Noelani's shoulders slumped as she let out a sigh of relief.

  "She's staying in the royal suite and being fed well. The king plans to introduce her as his heir to the court."