“Make me your wife then,” I’d said before I opened my body to him and bore my vulnerable soul. Attached myself to the wrong person. It should have been Darius.
Until death, Silas will never be the right man.
“Just take it off. Stop licking your wounds,” Hero says over her shoulder.
I press my hands against my legs and smooth out my dress. “I’m fine.”
“And I’m female. I know what that means.”
We push through a huge set of doors and emerge in what I assume is Hero’s bed chamber. She strips her wrists of bracelets, sheds the exoskeleton, and even steps out of her dress. Naked, she pads off toward her bed and gestures for me to sit with her.
“Really, Hero. At least put on a robe.” I avoid eye contact.
She laughs and takes off her crown, freeing her hair from the braid. I take the scarlet silk robe that’s on the floor and toss it to her.
“Your virginity is showing again, cousin,” She mocks as she wraps herself in the robe. I sit at the foot of her bed.
“It isn’t such a sin to save oneself for marriage,” I sigh. My morals are in complete upheaval. I should be able to do whatever I want with Darius if Silas has been doing whatever he wanted. We’ve been betrothed since my infancy. He didn’t let that stop him. Why should anything change just because of this damned ring? It’s just a manacle at this point. I see that now.
“It is a deadly sin to betray oneself.” She tilts her head at me. “You wanted to be with another. You married Silas out of duty.”
I snap my eyes to her. “How did you—”
“I too was to wed a knight.”
Oh, right. And she killed him, or so Rydel said when he mind-fucked me. My Death Spirit loved that idea, hungry for senseless bloodshed as usual.
“How did you get out of it? My mother penned a letter, giving Silas the rights to me.”
“Oh, piss!” She rolls her eyes. “My mother penned the same letter. I burned it and I killed the Knight.”
My shock is not rehearsed. I half-expected Rydel was lying.
“Because you did not want to marry him or…”
“Because he wanted to be a king more than he wanted to be my husband.” She smiles, unabashed. “I don’t share power.”
I swallow back my words as her crystal-clear eyes watch my face. Those diamonds in her head are so rough, I don’t know how to reply.
“Who was the gentleman caller— the naked one in your bed? I’ve seen Silas here at court and that male was not your husband.” Her eyes widen and her lips curve into a smile. She wants to know my secrets; I want to know hers. I’ll play along. Besides, I need to talk this out. I miss Katrielle. She would have been the first person I’d have turned to in a time like this.
“A warrior. A friend from the Clan.” I cross my legs the way she does and face her. She leans forward.
“The one you wish you’d been able to choose.”
“Yes,” I say, and it’s a relief to say it.
I let my hair down too.
“Will you kill Ser Silas when you see him?” She asks.
“What? Like, literally kill him?” I can’t suppress my giggle at the ludicrous thought. “Hero, no, I won’t murder my husband.”
She sighs and rolls her shoulders back. “I mean you could—”
“No, no, no. There’s enough senseless death in the Sunderlands.” I tuck my hair behind my ear. “I won’t lie though. I’d love to wrangle Moriya’s skinny neck.”
“Why?” Hero stiffens. I pause and tilt my head at her, trying to understand why she doesn’t understand.
“Moriya is as hurt as you are, if not more because she actually loves Silas and you do not. You’re possessive.”
“I am no—”
“Do you think she planned for her knight in shining armor to be no better than a whoremonger? She loves him and I can attest she didn’t know about you. I’ve been hearing her drawl on and on about him for a decade. I told her she could never have him because she is low born and he is noble. I did not know he was engaged either. I’ve cared little for your family before, to be honest, and never bothered to account for you. Silas and Moriya did not matter enough to me to warrant meddling either.”
My thoughts leap past her indifference and straight to the part where she disagreed with me. “You’re defending her?” I ask and regret it. I don’t want to piss her off.
“Yes.” Her expression hardens. “Females need each other, especially when we’re hurt. She is not the other woman who stole your husband, Keres. Although, you probably see her that way. You don’t know her. You know Silas. Hate the man who made her into what she is to you now— his dirty little secret. She may be the secret but he’s the only dirty one.”
I stop and think on that.
“Whether it was Moriya, or someone else, and you… Silas is the faithless one and he would have proved himself to be so, tarnishing any woman in the cross-fire.” Hero says.
I raise my brow at her.
She returns the look with a smirk and says, “I don’t do self-pity, darling.”
She’s right. Sitting here regretting my first time, regretting Silas, resenting Moriya… it’s useless. It’s the least of my issues. How does she know so much about this stuff? How is she this confident? I shouldn’t be wasting my time alone with her, caught up in trivial fancies like my boy-problems. I should be more concerned with her boy problems.
“You and Rydel make an interesting pair,” I lead with him because he is my first suspect. The one closest to her may be the one manipulating or plotting against her.
She licks her lips and closes her eyes, “Ah, yes. The little devil.” She quirks an eye open at me. “In Elistria… the males have a certain way with their lovers. An ancient art they still practice. Sex is about more than bodies winding in silken sheets or creating life. It’s about energy, the connection, the nature of love and desire. Sex is an art form. It is a lifestyle that focuses on emotional and physical fulfillment.”
“Did Rydel teach you that?” I ask.
“Among many, many other things.” She smiles back. “Rydel showed up here some months ago, carrying a lonely banner with a sigil I did not recognize.”
I close my mouth, trying not to interrupt.
“His message was of peace. From Elistria, he traveled alone to find me. He’d heard of my mother’s death and came to extend his condolences and his aid. We shared an instant connection.”
I’m sure they did. He probably burrowed into her mind, using all this talk of love and next-level sex as his rouse. How did someone so fearsome fall for this?
“He’s been at my side ever since. His love has led me to a deeper understanding of life and pleasure. Of myself.”
“Through sex?” I can’t hide my disbelief.
“Yes. He triggers my desire. He has and helps me see I have power. Sexually, he’s freed me. And that liberation started a ripple effect in my life.”
I don’t like where this is going. What I’m hearing is that she has no boundaries.
“I know no fear. I feel no regret. I have transcended.”
I have a hunch he’s manipulating her mind. I try to smile but I want to growl. I’m even more worried for her now. Keeping her on the throne may be harder than I thought. If there’s anyone who wants her off it, it’s most likely him. Faking his love for her; his message of peace. He’s using her, distorting her mind as much as her appearance is distorted. Wild eyes, running around dressed up like a skeleton, killing innocents, but talking of peace and sex and love. What the fuck is going on here? A Higher power works here for sure.
I’ve gotten too lost in my reeling thoughts. She’s silent, awaiting my reply.
Wiggling my eyebrows, the way I’ve seen Ivaia do, I add, “I have a book.” And she’s piqued. “I must show it to you one day. On page seventy-four there’s a picture of a position that boggles me.” I force another shy smile. “The girl goes on bottom but upside down. And the man—”
She
explodes with laughter. “How odd! Have you tried it?”
I pretend to blush, “Hero!” I nudge her hand.
“Promise me you’ll try everything in that book with your warrior,” She purrs.
“I can never be with him.” My smile dies.
“That’s bullshit. Then again, you are a more traditional woman than I.”
She calls for tea and someone attends us as if they’d been waiting outside her door.
I notice the servant who answers isn’t one of the three bunnies. She passes me a glass filled with liquid the color of Silas’ eyes and takes her seat beside me. I don’t want to drink this tea. Rydel’s tricks have traumatized me. I wonder if he’s been using the Faery wine on her too.
“Our mothers were very traditional.” She looks at me. “Or so I used to believe.”
She rises from the bed and walks to a shelf beside the window. While she’s scanning the shelves for the book she wants, I dump my tea in the plant pot beside her bed.
“I see it in you, Keres.” I freeze, thinking she saw me dump my tea.
“The drive to do right. To make your own choices, to lead. A trait both our mothers possessed in their own ways.”
Hero is smiling, I can tell by her voice, as she bends to pluck a book from the bottom shelf. I hold my empty cup in my lap.
“It is in our blood, to feel as you do. It’s who we are.” She presents the book to me with a broken smile. “My mother’s diary.”
I don’t dare touch the worn black leather.
“I happened upon it when I was searching for clues about my mother’s murderer. I’ve read it many times and each time I do I feel as if I never knew her.”
Funny, I’ve been feeling the same way about my mother. What mysterious sisters the three daughters of Ro’Hale were. She thumbs it open, eyes the page, and points to the delicately handwritten passage:
My lover, the King of Kings.
A mighty Bear, grizzly and untamed.
I live for him, I worship.
He is the God of my idolatry.
I look at Hero and she urges me to keep reading.
Man among men,
Strength of two bears.
Hair black as ravens,
Eyes blue as a stormy sea.
Let me die in those eyes,
and he will forever mourn for me.
Until he closes them for all time,
And returns to me.
Man among men,
King of all Kings.
I live for him,
My sweet King Berlium.
“What!?” I jump from the bed. “King Berlium of the Baore— leader of the Dalis army that assaults us… was her lover?”
“Yes, but before you ask, no, I am not his daughter. My father was an Elf. Prince Tamyrr of Elistria,” She says.
I fall into the bed, and she tumbles down next to me, landing on her belly. “Look at this,” she paws the pages.
I broke my sister’s heart today. She begged me not to send her, to marry her off to the clansman. But I did and I broke her.
What kind of sister am I? I cannot protect those dearest to me. I used her like a pawn. Giving Resayla to Kaius will erect a wall between us. She begged me and I broke her, anyway. For politics. For the damned treaty. The clans need this. They need her to go to them and make them whole again. They need us both; a Queen and a Princess.
Did she love Ser Indiro and wish to marry him? He cares for her. And Ivaia’s run off with her knight. It should have been her— the traitor. I betrayed Resayla’s heart, broke it. Sold her to a people she owes nothing to. For my crown. I am ashamed to bear it, but I must. I pray to the Gods for forgiveness, for sacrificing a beloved sister.
“Oh,” my jaw drops. “Well, shit.”
My parents’ marriage was arranged? What was supposed to become of Ivaia? She was supposed to marry my father!?
“Ivaia betrayed Herrona?” I pick the most appropriate question.
“Yes, according to my mother. Look here.”
Ivaia ruined it all! This is what I get for falling in love with a Human.
Her magic is strong, and I know her motives were true. She broke the spell to save me—
now, I must live with a hole in my soul. Unending heartbreak was the price I must pay to be free of the spell.
Would it not have been easier to let me love King Berlium? To let him marry me and bring peace between our kingdoms?
Now the people are asking me to banish her. They needed the alliance.
Humans and Elves might forever be at war from this day forward.
She sought only to free me but in doing so damned our people to the wrath of the Baore.
I cannot marry him now, though I yearn to. That grizzly king.
Knowing he tricked me— poisoned my mind, to make me love him.
I thought I’d die for him and I very well might have had it not been for Ivaia.
Still, the people rage. She exposed the lie, she angered the King, she lost us the ally who
will now be our enemy until the end of his days. If his days ever do end.
“What does she mean ‘if his days ever do end?” I rub my neck.
“I haven’t got a clue either. Sounds like she thought him immortal.”
“It can’t be.”
Hero shrugs. “Apparently, King Berlium had a spell put on my mother to make her swear herself to him. Ivaia broke the spell, setting my mother free. She later details her marriage to my father, and how it was necessary to ally the Elven kingdoms, Ro’Hale and Elistria.”
“Why didn’t she marry my mother or Ivaia off to an Elistrian Prince too? Why to my father, a poor clansman of Massara?” I ask.
“To establish the treaty our kingdom now holds with your clans. You do know the history of the Ro’Hale Clan you call home, don’t you?” She asks.
“Yes.” I put it all together. “Their marriage solidified the alliance and birthed the clan Ro’Hale. My mother, her knight, and others from court left the kingdom to live among our clan-kin, and members of the other clans came to live with them. The clans were given a part of the kingdom. My mother and the kingdom… were given what?”
“Allegiance.” She holds her head up higher. “With our people united, we are all stronger.”
“My thoughts exactly,” I say. “That being said, your silence is a surprise, Hero. Since the alliance that founded the Ro’Hale clan still stands. Why haven’t you helped us fight the Dalis?”
“Nothing can be done for your people. My armies are against me.”
“Why? That’s treason.” I brush my hair back. “How can they be against their Queen?”
“Perhaps, they hate me because I am young and powerful and beautiful. I doubt it is because they miss my mother. Battle-hardened warriors do not yearn for dead monarchs. Or maybe it’s because men closest to the crown are the ones who can commit treason easiest.”
“Why doesn’t Rydel run back to the King of Elistria and ask him to use his army, to help you get your army… to help us?” I flurry my hands, talking way too fast and I know it. Got that from Riordan.
Queen Hero chuckles. “If only politics were that simple. King Gemlin of Elistria has no interest in rising against the Dalis simply because he fears King Berlium. After his eldest son, my father, was killed in an ambush by Dalis men, he swore never to give another of his sons to the Ro’Hale princesses. I doubt he’ll give his army either. Also, your mother and Ivaia were both powerful mages. Elistrian princes may not be with Magic Women to begin with.”
“Sounds like King Gemlin has a problem with women in general.”
“Yes,” She nods.
“He should fear the Heralds of War more. Or the Imperial Council.”
“Why? Neither have reprimanded King Berlium or halted his siege of the Baore and now our lands. He owes the clans nothing. He is not part of the alliance we made with them. And we owe him a debt none can pay. The life of his firstborn.”
“True, except King Berlium owes him th
at. Herrona didn’t kill your father, the Dalis did.”
“Jealousy killed him. King Berlium learned of my mother’s marriage sometime after, and if he couldn’t have her no one could. News that the queen was with child flooded the kingdom. He offered another peace treaty. My father set off for the Baore to sign the accord and reclaim the chance for peace that Ivaia stole from us.”
I don’t bother defending Iv. Not yet.
“Berlium’s men ambushed my father and his men. One survived. He brought the news home about what had befallen my father.” She caresses the pages. “They say my mother never wept for him. I understand why because of her diary. She loved King Berlium. I just wish I’d known my father. I hear he was gallant.”
“I wish I knew more about my mother.” I say.
Hero’s composure cracks.
“I found the documented prophecy about her.” She turns to the back of the book and hands me the three separate letters that were tucked into a pocket-page.
“Ivaia’s and Queen Herrona’s are also there. Take them all. They’re boring to me. My mother’s prediction was ‘Stillness in her blood, Chaos in her wake.’ I assume that means no magic in her, but as her diary tells there has been great chaos in the kingdoms and between Baore, since her.”
I glance out the window and see night has fallen. “It’s a dark hour,” I say. “Did I keep you up too late?” I stand up.
“No,” She says.
“I have one more question.”
She turns her eyes from the book to me.
“The Child Oracle, Osira.” I straighten my back. “I wish to take responsibility for her safety. My father educated me at a young age about the actions your mother took to preserve the well-being and dignity of the Holy Children. I wish to see that order restored and upheld.”
“That’s not a question, and Osira has a Priest. Dorian.” She narrows her eyes at me.
The Sunderlands Page 23
