“You can spin it any way you’d like, Your Majesty,” Raffe said, “but we all know the king’s mind has been deteriorating for some time. He isn’t coming back and even if by some miracle he did, he wouldn’t be the man you knew. My cousin was sick and he always has been.”
Tightness spread through Aesira’s chest, a deep ache that pulsed in time with her heart. She could hear the words still echoing in the corridor, pounding in her ears like a pendulum.
Dead.
Dead.
Dead.
If Desmond was dead, Kamari would never recover. The treaty would abolish and war–
“I don’t accept that,” Kamari said. “Give Desmond time to come home. Three months for us to try and search for him. Three months before we write him off completely.”
Aesira ran her tongue behind her teeth, calculating.
Three months would get them past the storm season. It would give them a chance to collect a team, recruit knights from the Order to broaden the search. Three months would be enough.
It had to be.
“We can afford one month for Desmond to show,” the councilwoman said. “Naming Day looms and the people will become restless. Thirsty. Celestria, while generous, has provided less and less water each year to account for our growing city. If there is word that the treaty has been broken, that water from the spring is not guaranteed, we will have another kind of war at our doorstep.”
The woman leaned forward, bracing her elbows on the table, narrow eyes darting between Kamari and Aesira. “By the nextNaming Day, you’ll have a choice to make just as Lord Raffe has said.” Her eyes met Kamari’s. “One month for King Desmond to show and then, Your Majesty, the fate of our kingdom will lie in your decision.”
Two
Aesira
Ancient spires and decorated arched windows stood tall against the morning sun as Aesira and Kamari wound through the city center. As much as Aesira resented being stationed in Vargah, where the heat was worse than the monsters over the wall, she couldn’t deny the beauty of the city.
Mosaic tiles created patterns against the otherwise monotonous brown of the buildings. The looming sandstorm in the distance, casted a glow over the city, making everything look like it had been dipped in red dye.
Or blood.
Morbid, her mother would call her, for thinking such a thing. She couldn’t help it. She was raised in blood, from the moment she stepped foot into the Order, her life revolved around it.
She was taught precisely how to spill it, how to protect it, to keep her knights and the kingdoms safe.
So when the dust cloud hovered above the city, staining it crimson, how could she not think of blood.
“Where are we going?” she asked, tightening her palm around the pommel of her sword. “And why do you have so many books with you?”
“They’re not books,” Kamari said, “they’re journals. Just follow me and stop asking me questions. Isn’t that your job, to follow me?”
“As in Desmond’s journals?” Aesira had only seen them a handful of times and honestly thought very little of them. They were nothing but nonsense and drawings of moths and monsters, scribbled words that held no meaning.
Kamari waved her free hand at a few children playing games in the dusty streets. Aesira was normally able to read Kamari with ease, even when she had her queen’s face on, but after the meeting with the council, she couldn’t tell if her sister was angry or determined.
Both, she supposed.
“Of course they’re Desmond’s journals,” Kamari said. “Why are you asking me so many questions?"
“My job is to keep Vargah safe, you know,” Aesira said, catching up to walk in sync with Kamari. “That includesyou. Asking questions is how I do my job.”
Especially you,she wanted to say. She and her knights typically manned the wall farther north toward Novaria, but with the peace treaty Vargah now became part of the Order’s jurisdiction.They reaped the benefits of not only Piscis Spring but the band of knights trained to slay any beasts that approached.
“I need to speak to someone and I assumed since you’re so nosy, you would want to come.”
“I’m not nosy,” Aesira mumbled from her side. “I just told you questions are my job.”
