Birdie’s black eyes narrowed and he could hear everything she wanted to say in them, but didn’t.You’re being reckless. Chasing a myth you have no business chasing. But she raised her hand because rule number two was never something any of them could get around and never wanted to—we always have each other’s backs—and said, “Aye.”
Sixteen
Kamari
The stars were fading, each one twinkling out in the sky leaving only a few moments of tolerable heat before the sun would rise and take claim to the city. Pain bloomed on Kamari’s side as she rolled over, reading the note from Aesira again.
We haven’t found him, but we have a lead.
I can’t say for sure but there are reasons to believe he was here, in the Outpost.
If I don’t write, don’t worry.
Hawks won’t fly in the Whispering Mountains but know that I’m fine.
That we are still looking for him.
The maps are what they claim to be so we have away to find him, Kam.
We just need time.
Be strong,
Aesira
She rolled the note and tucked it safely into her pocket. They’d found a lead. A clue. Proof that Desmond was out there.Alive.
An oil painting of her and Desmond that took up nearly the entire eastern wall, watched her, taunted her, as she changed out of her robe and into a light dress. It reminded her of a life that now felt so far away.
The painting was done before their wedding as a gift from her parents. She remembered the nerves she felt. The uncertainty of the entire arrangement. But that moment, posing for the painting, was the first time she realized Desmond was nothing like she’d expected. He had made a joke, though she couldn’t recall what he’d said, the memory of her nerves settling was something she couldn’t forget.
Desmond’s dark curls were thick and wild. Her hands twitched, remembering how soft they were when she dug her fingers into them. She gazed into his eyes. She loved his eyes. They were lighter than his hair but deep like the night sky just after sunset.
Her gaze drifted to his full lips and she had to fight the urge to walk to the painting and trace them with her fingers. Her gaze snagged on his arms, to the markings and symbols that lined his skin. “A king’s marks,” Desmond had told her, though she couldn’t recall his father bearing them.
She squeezed her eyes tight and turned away, gripping her side as she found her adornments for the day. She was still healing from the night of the attack, but it was embarrassment that hurt more than anything else. Willingly, she’d walked with a completestranger. Believed that woman was helping her, just to end up with a blade in her side. The other knights on watch were found tied and bound, unconscious, drugged according to Nev.
But even so, Kamari couldn't help but feel as though she was useless. Blind to what was right in front of her.
“The council is waiting, Your Majesty,” Nev said from beyond the door.
Kamari adjusted the thin, silver crown on her brow and met her in the hall.
The walk was quiet as they passed a row of stained-glass windows, intricate stars and moons poured light of all colors onto the stone floor.
Since the attack on the wall and the attempted kidnapping, the council had increased security, assigning twice the amount of sentries to the Citadel. The extra bodies did nothing to make Kamari feel more safe. The night that woman tried to take her, she was surrounded by people, and yet totally alone.
Another storm churned outside the wall, pelting the windows with harsh winds and bits of rock. The markets were closed today and the day prior, everyone sheltering from the massive sand swells that loomed over the city.
Nev opened the door to the meeting room and Kam stepped in. “Thank you.”
“My daughter.” Kamari’s heart froze as her father rose from the end of the table. “You look well.”
“Father, I–”
“Kamari.” There was a warning in her mother’s tone. She stood, her dark hair bound tight on the top of her head, a thin, silver crown resting on her forehead. Her eyes were the same mismatchedas Aesira’s, one green, one hazel, and it made Kamari’s stomach drop when they narrowed on her. Her mother didn’t need to speak to make her point clear.
Remember your manners. Remember who I raised you to be.
