My head lulls to the side while my body melts into the floor. “Kyron will burn you alive for this,” I say, my weak voice carrying through the quiet throne room.
“I can’t wait for him to try,” he says, dismissing my threat and giving his attention to a guard with sleek black hair and matching wings. “Make sure this gets to Pliris’ king.”
“Yes, Your Majesty,” he says, turning on his heels with the Eporri in hand.
All Zek’s snide statements merge in my mind until a clear picture comes into view. I jerk my hands from Niko’s grip andwhimper in pain from sitting up. The skin on my outer thigh is shredded, leaking blood onto the floor. I push down the bile inching up my throat and turn my attention to Zek. “You won’t provoke him into breaking the treaty. He understands what’s at stake and is too strategic to fall for a trap.”
He crouches in front of me, and I turn my face away from him. “Don’t underestimate the lengths someone will go to get what they want. He’s coming for you, Raelle. The moment he steps foot in my kingdom with the intent of taking what’s mine”—he pinches my chin and forces my eyes to meet his—“I’ll declare it an act of war. The terms of the treaty will be void, and Pliris will be mine for the taking. We’ll have more bodies to work the fields and new fertile ground to feed every Allaji.”
I want to yell that he is wrong, that Kyron would never risk the rest of our people, but I can’t. If roles were reversed and Kyron sat in my place while I was in his, nothing in this world would stop me from getting to him. The sacrifices I would make for my parah are endless. As soon as that stone reaches Kyron, the treaty that protects the people within our borders is as good as broken. I only pray I can find a way to stop Kyron before he thrusts us into war we cannot win.
Three
KYRON
Iremove my crown and toss it on the oval conference table. The iron and gold spins around the shiny surface before wobbling to a halt. Everyone packed into the strategy room falls silent, their debate over Raelle’s rescue forgotten. My black hair falls over my eyes as I drop my face into my hands, covering my pursed lips and furrowed brows.
“I don’t understand why this meeting was even called,” says the council woman with pink ringlets framing her beige skin. “If you rescue the Lucent queen... your parah, you will thrust this kingdom into another war. The Allaji tactics are barbaric, and we don’t have the means to fight them head on. We urge you to abide by the treaty your mother made. It’s the only thing keeping our people safe.”
The council members seated along her side of the table feverishly nod. They’re my biggest opposition, representing those who don’t wish to fight and want the amplification ceremony reinstated. The resentment they and those they represent hold toward me grows every day. The only reason theywon’t commit treason and break away from our kingdom is the Posseda. Their addiction to power has them clinging to the false hope that I will change my mind. It’s that optimism I feed into with sly words crafted to keep them in our ranks. I can’t afford to make new enemies, and I’ll need every single body for what lies ahead.
“With all due respect, Your Majesty.” A middle-aged man with a bushy beard and bland attire lifts his finger to catch my attention. He was once Micah’s liaison to the Lucent people, now he sides with those who don’t approve of my rule. “What is the difference between saving the former queen and any of the other Cyffred held captive by the Allaji? The families of those who were taken want their loved ones returned just as much as you want to rescue her. What kind of message are you sending to the people? Are only those who have worn crowns important?”
I rub my temples and inhale slowly, hoping it will calm the irritation boiling inside me. “The kidnapped Cyffreds are a priority. The difference between the two is that our top military strategists believe they’ve located Raelle, and we have yet to find a way to infiltrate the camps where the Cyffreds are held without risking their lives.”
The pink-haired woman scoffs. “Of course they found a way to rescue her.Shehas been your focus since she was taken. And what price will this kingdom pay for her return? A war that will drain our coffers and weaken our army.”
The purpose of this meeting was to share my intent with my council, not to put Raelle’s rescue up for debate. For an hour, I’ve sat here and listened to them talk about her like she is worthless—a mere object that I obsess over. My blood has heated in my veins with each spiteful remark they’ve made, and now I’m ready to explode.
I slam my fist down on the table. “Countless lives are at risk while we sit in this room debating. I, for one, refuse to findcontentment when a portion of my people are enslaved to the Allaji. Each of you at this table should be outraged at our lack of action. Instead, you ask those taken against their will to pay the price for your safety. If that’s the way you feel, you’re free to excuse yourself from this meeting. In fact, you can resign your positions on my council because I’m done doing shit-all. Today, we’ll devise a plan to save Raelle, and then we will fight to bring the others home. If you don’t like it, leave.”
The room is so quiet all I hear is a faint ringing in my ears. Eyes dart around, searching for the one who will be the first to walk out. No one so much as shifts in their seat. Is it fear of me stripping them of their status that holds them in place? Is it the shame they feel about innocent people paying the price for their freedoms? Or is it their refusal to admit they would be the first to bend to the Allajis’ will? I don’t give a damn why they stay as long as I have their attention.
I lean back and fold my arms, fighting the satisfied grin wanting to consume my face.
The heavy oak door to the strategy room burst open. A gangly teenage boy with blond hair covering his hazel eyes rushes forward with a box in his hand. He bows twice and his voice cracks when he says, “I’m s—sorry, Your Majesty. I would have waited, but you told me if... This just arrived, and I knew you would want it right away.”
I glance at the simple bamboo chest with a letter placed on top. The green wax seal causes my eyes to go wide, and anger spills from me as I ask, “Who delivered this?”
The page shifts from side to side. “I’m unsure. I’ve never seen him before. He was a man, but when he left, he—he turned into a raven.”
He doesn’t need to say more. I know who the chest is from. My stomach rolls, pushing terror up my torso and lodging it in my throat. I nod to the table, not trusting my hands to keep fromshaking. The page sets his delivery before me, and I swallow down my trepidation.
In the past weeks, I’ve sent several letters to Zekel. Some were meticulously crafted, firmly stating my demands and offering goods in exchange for Raelle and the Cyffreds. Other letters were furious rants, detailing all the ways I would slice him open and burn his kingdom to the ground. They each went unanswered, and I doubtthisis an invitation to negotiations.
Sweat beads at my brow as I take the letter and break the seal. Scribbled across a scrap of parchment is one sentence:
Your parah offered her head, but I thought this would serve you better.
My brain races with possibilities, each worse than the next. The short time I spent with Zekel, I learned he was a smug asshole. His ego is overly inflated, and his integrity is nonexistent. It wouldn’t surprise me to open this box and find a phallic carving adorned with two huge jeweled balls inside.
I lift the lid and immediately snap my eyes closed. It takes every ounce of my self-control not to spring to my feet, run to the stables, and mount Samson. I want my hands around the Allaji king’s neck, strangling the life out of him.
He will die.
I pull the reins on my anger, caging it down as I stare at the Eporri. I spent hours running the tip of my finger over each petal as it pressed against Raelle’s skin. She always felt that the imprint of the stone was a blemish, but I saw it as another beautiful piece of her. What cruel course of action did my enemy take to remove it from her?
I take the stone and squeeze it in my palm, feeling the buzz of power I always associated with soft skin and warm laughter. Ilift my dark gaze to the people around the table. My voice is a low rumble as I say, “Raelle will be rescued, no matter the cost.”
