“Is that true, daughter?” Her father was far enough away his voice was small but she felt his question rake over her skin as if he’d taken claws to her bare arms.
“Kamari,” her mother warned. “Where is Aesira?”
Kamari glanced around the table, catching Hanna’s eye for a moment as she refilled water glasses. “She’s tending to the southern end of the wall–”
“Oh bullshit.” Her father slammed his glass down, making Kamari jump. “Is that really the best lie you could come up with?” He shook his reddened face. “Lord Raffe, where is my second daughter?”
Other than the soft pelt of sand against the glass windows, silence flooded the room. Kamari’s chest burned, her fingers clenching in her lap.
Don’t tell them, Raffe.
Don’t tell them.
“Commander Zeliath has left Vargah. She and a cadre of criminals headed west to look for King Desmond.”
Damn him.
She knew her lies to her parents would only stretch so far, but Raffe had crossed a line.
“West?” Her mother’s eyes blew wide, making her look like one of the porcelain dolls she and Aesira played with when they were younger. She wasn’t sure if she was scared for Aesira or generally frightened of what might lie in the west.
Likely the latter.
“How dare you send your sister away,” her father snapped. “Wait until the General finds out about this.”
“She won’t find out,” Kamari said, "she'll be back in just a few weeks." Her father raged on, ignoring her, chastising her, reprimanding her like she was a child.
They were still acting as though Kamari wasn't there when she stood and slammed her hands against the tabletop.
“Just because my voice is quiet,” she said, “does not mean what I have to say isn’t important.” She glared at her father from across the table. “Lord Raffe, your visit to Vargah has been a pleasant surprise, but you’ve overstayed your welcome.”
Raffe’s brows shot up, her father’s face burned in her periphery but she poured all of her focus, her unrelenting rage toward Raffe. “When my husband returns, I don’t believe he’ll be pleased to see his seat taken.” She nodded to the chair Raffe had claimed as his own the last few weeks.
“Now if you’ll excuse me,” she said, smoothing the loose hairs from her face. “I have an address before Naming Day." She turned and spoke only to her parents, ignoring the burning stare fromRaffe. “I’ll admit there’s much to tell you both," she said, “but now is not the time. If you wish to leave, I will have your things packed at once."
“We’re staying.” Her father rose from his seat and joined her on the other side of the room.
She couldn’t look at his face, didn’t care to see this broken version of herself reflected back at her through his eyes. She focused instead on a brooch of the Novarian crest, a waterfall to mimic Piscis Spring, pinned to his left lapel.
“Whatever is going on with your husband,” he whispered so only she could hear, “I will get to the bottom of it. This treaty will not dissolve simply because you are incapable of doing your job.”
Admittedly, confronting her parents and Raffe right before the public address was not Kamari’s finest idea.
Her nerves were rattled, leaving her open and exposed as she stepped onto the balcony that overlooked the square where hundreds of Vargahians waited for her. Some cheered as she waved, a soft smile fixed on her lips, most others booed or shouted profanities.
“Where is King Desmond?”
“Traitor queen!”
Being called an enemy queen was not uncommon in the year she’d been here, but traitor was new and for some reason the word pricked her skin and left her heart bleeding.
She inhaled a deep, dry, breath and braced her hands on the iron railing of the balcony. “Naming Day is almost upon us.” Her knuckles ached around the hot metal. “Let us pray together.” She lowered her head, beads of sweat dripping down her spine. “Celestria, Goddess of All, we call upon you to hear our prayers–”
A loud crack against the railing startled her. She looked down to see a rock the size of her fist had flown from the crowd, rattling the iron bars. Kamari’s head whipped up and Nev was there, just in time, before another rock pelted through a window, shards of glass spewing onto the tile floor.
“Murderer!” several people shouted as more rocks flew onto the balcony. Nev blocked her body, shielding her own head with her arm. “You killed King Desmond!”
“The treaty is broken!”
