“Didn’t I say this will only work if we trust each other? I’m pregnant, Aria, but not incapable. I’m still as vicious as I’ve ever been. Perhaps even more so now.” She pats her belly. “We are not weak.” Her eyes sparkle with undeniable determination. “Let us plan the beginnings of a coup.”
Chapter Fifty-One: Myla
Coldstonebitesintomy knees, sending a shiver up my spine. My feet have long since gone numb, and the lack of proper blood flow makes them tingle as if they’re being pricked by small needles. I have lost track of how long I’ve been here, of how many days have passed. Did the sun rise twice? Three times? The days wouldn’t matter so much if I wasn’t due to meet the siren soon, and anger gnaws at my chest just as hunger does my belly. I don’t want to miss a meeting and delay fulfilling the terms of my life debt.
After Leesi reported to Father Yamin and the queen that I was missing from my room, I had prepared for this eventuality. I don’t regret spending time killing Sir Dae, nor do I regret visiting the dragon fields afterwards, but past experience makes my body tense.
A shadow passes through the sunlight streaming in from a small square window as a bird lands on the windowsill. I watch as it hops and tilts its head, and maybe it’s because I know what’s about to come, or maybe it’s because I’m so fucking tired, but the sight of a small creature living its life oblivious to the archaic rules of the fae and made-up gods makes pressure build behind my eyes. But tears won’t fall—they never do. Not since the first time this happened.
I jolt when the door to my cell in the church’s wing opens, its hinges letting out creaks of protest. His robes hiss along the stone floor, and I fight the urge to yank away from the finger under my chin. My eyes lift to meet Father Yamin’s, and though a frown paints his face in a shade of disappointment, I see beyond this forced emotion. As he studies my gaze, I hope he sees whatmyface won’t show as well. I think he does, and maybe I am cursed by the fucking gods he loves so much, because were we inanyother scenario, I would havehimhanging from a hook in my warehouse. Drowning in the glee that his blood spilling from his body would fill me with.
“Princess Myla, you know that I do not take pleasure in watching you suffer.”Liar.He releases my chin, and I force my spine to straighten, despite the way my back and stomach muscles scream to just give in. “But you bring the wrath of the gods upon yourself when you do not follow the rules for a noble female.”
“Royal,” I croak, my throat stinging from the lack of water over the course of however many days I’ve been here. “I’m royalty, not nobility.” There’s a single moment of silence, onethat prefaces what I know is coming, but I relish it all the same with the tiniest quirk of my mouth. Then agony flares at the back of my head, stars bursting over my eyes as my body is forced forward from the impact of the hit. The taste of iron blooms over my tongue.
“Youwill watchyour tongue when speaking to me.” His hand lands harshly on my shoulder, yanking me back into an upright position as his fingers dig in. “This is the last time I will ask before I take you out into the temple where a crowd is already waiting.” Despite how I try to fight it off, disquiet twirls in my stomach, shortening every inhale. “Where did you go that night, hmm? We know that you were not in your bedroom, and despite the way Prince Navin insists you were on the grounds, we both know he will do whatever it takes to protect you.” Father Yamin lowers into a squat before me, showing off the wooden baton he hit me with. I stare at the black char marks, swirling lines, and scripture passages burned along its length. Crimson stains the side of it, the fresh glisten making my teeth gnash together. “Tell the truth for once, Princess Myla, and this can end here and now,” he whispers, forcing his lips into a reassuring smile.
My head dances as my vision blurs, the bastard growing from two people to three and then back to one. But I know how he plays his games now, and punishment comes no matter what I say. “And I will tell you what I’ve been telling you. I woke from a nightmare and needed fresh air, so I went to the queen’s garden and sat for a while. When I came back, I was informed by Prince Navin that you assumed me to be missing. But I was not aware that walking around one’s own home was a crime.” I’ve repeated the story so many times, I’m almost starting to believe it myself.
His eyes brighten, that excuse of a smile blooming into a real one. Despite what the bastard claims, punishing me isa favorite pastime of his. “Very well.” He stands and pulls a black veil from one of his robe pockets, ensuring that, even in punishment, I will remain faceless to the people. Once the veil is in place, he walks to the door and beckons two of the brethren in, their cream robes indicating that they’re still initiates. Unlike the black robe of Father Yamin, which indicates he’s reached the highest level. Closer to the gods or whatever the fuck. “Pick her up.” The males obey, and I’m hoisted up by my arms, my feet left to drag behind me as we begin our procession out of the cell.
The journey to the temple attached to the north wing of the palace is short, and when I see the rich onyx doors through my veil, my pathetic heart slams against my ribs. It’s just the lack of water and food and movement and stress release. There is nothing to fear here becauseIam fear itself.
The males at my side grip with brutal strength, adding to the collection of bruises already marring my body. Though bruises will be the least of my concerns after this.
Father Yamin pushes those dark doors open, the click when they lock into place silencing the hushed whispers from inside the temple. I glance down at my body, the robe they’ve covered me in cinched tightly at my waist. When theDivine Father’shelpers begin to drag me again, I force my feet to try to match their steps. But days of waiting on my knees for judgement has left me too weak to hold myself up. It’s all part of their plan to shame me.
I stare at Father Yamin’s back as he strides into the temple with the confidence only a male who holds both king and kingdom in his hands could have. Because despite how my own father may be the face of rule and order, it’s Father Yamin who whispers into his ear. I’m brought to the very center of the temple where a wooden pole connects from the ground up tothe ceiling, every inch of it covered in the same swirls and holy words as the father’s favorite baton.
“Your Majesty, King Kamon, it is an honor as always to be in your presence, under the watchful eye of Khaos and His temple which we stand in.”
The king smiles at the father, silver-ringed fingers drumming along his jaw for a long while before he looks my way. Of course, he isn’t looking atmeso much as he is assessing the way I’m about to be punished. “Tell me what you have decided.”
Next to him sits my mother, her face as emotionless as glass. Her black hair is tied on top of her head in a beautiful pattern, silver picks ending in bright red tassels crossing over each other in the bun at its center. She doesn’t bother to look at me. On the other side of the king is Navin. Deep despair alters his expression as he leans forward in his throne, gripping the very edge of the armrests so tightly that all color is drained from his knuckles.
“As you know, Your Majesty, the customary punishment for one who purposely disobeys the codes of our kingdom and will of the gods is death.” Navin’s eyes grow wide, and his chest stops lifting with breath. Neither king nor queen react at all. “But death, while freeing the princess from her sins, will not help us earn the gods’ favor. Your daughter was sent not only as a message but as a test. A measurement with which to gauge our repentance as a kingdom.”
I look away from my brother, instead focusing on the detailed, carved dragon wings that bracket my father’s throne.
“So it is as ahumbleservant of our gods that I suggest another round of twenty-five lashes, as was the punishment for her first offense.” A few murmurs ring out from the crowd, but I’m not at all surprised. The last time I was in this position, the father had been all too eager to split my skin open. At leastmy back is already a mess—these new wounds cannot make it worse. “In addition, I believe we should de-veil the princess.”
My gaze snaps to him asgaspssound around the room. Father Yamin holds his chin high, his hands clasped calmly as if he hasn’t just asked openly to break away from the very tradition he holds dear.
“And what is your reasoning for such a suggestion?” the king asks, his eyes lowered in boredom as he brings the hand at his jaw down to the throne’s armrest. Calm and collected, completely unaffected at the thought of his daughter being whipped.
“Your Majesty, Princess Myla has shown that her dedication to repentance and not repeating her sins is unreliable. Perhaps a drastic measure such as this will be enough incentive for her to remember that when she disobeys the gods, they will always retaliate.”
I almost laugh at the father’s hyperbole. But taking off my veil and revealing my face is dangerous. Anonymity has been my biggest aid in remaining Khargis’s Shadow. No one knows what the princess looks like, but theymighthave seen the Shadow. Some of those people could even be in this room, not that anyone here would admit to spending time in the bowels of the city. Still, my heart gallops in my chest, and I finally look back at my brother, his eyes expressing what mine can’t.Fear.
Movement lures my gaze to my mother, and I watch as she slides her hand over my father’s, giving it a light squeeze before returning it to her lap. He dips his chin in a nearly imperceptible movement before drawing in a deep breath. “If you think it would impart a better lesson for my daughter—”
“You can’t be serious!” Navin interrupts, causing another roll of gasps that echo against the stone walls. “This goesdirectlyagainst everything we claim to hold value in.” His hand shoots out in my direction. “Regardless of what the princess hasdone, the punishment should be befitting of the crime, and de-veiling her strips her of more than just a cloth over her face. It takes away any future prospects for her to marry.”
I don’t react, letting my fury stoke me from within—a flame that grows infinite in its heat. I know he’s just using my most valuable card to play, but my worth as a person being dwindled down to nothing more than some male’s future wife only makes that flame grow hotter.
“There is still time to make advantageous deals for Myla’s hand, even as she istainted.” His voice wavers on the final word.
Fuck, I’d rather just out myself fully than be referred to as if I’m not here, but my logic outweighs my emotions, so I keep my mouth shut.
