“All fairy tales are rooted in truth.” He shrugs.
“So, the last dragon and the last Blackblood?” I absorb.
“There have been poems, songs, paintings dedicated to you,the Faceless Rider.”
“Are you serious?” I ask doubtfully.
“Deadly. The people of Aegar have waited for you and prayed for your coming since the day the Blackbloods fell, and Arden, with her last breath, promised a reckoning. That reckoning is you.”
Chills skitter down my spine.
“That’s flattering and all, but I’m no Jesus Christ.” I lean back in my seat. He chuckles and closes the book.
“Is—is the kingdom in trouble? Is that why people have been waiting for me?”
“The kingdom is stable for now, ever since Derek married Ilspeth and forged an alliance. With their kingdoms united, the others would be foolish to make a move. But there has been growing unrest in Aegar and whispers of rebellion for many years. A Dragon Rider standing with Aegar would solidify its stronghold and squash any chance of a coup, whether from rebels or a neighboring kingdom. You’re the most wanted person in Solterre. Every kingdom is after you.”
The weight of his words presses down on my chest.
“And what if I find a kingdom I like better and decide to fight for them instead?” I ask hypothetically.
“There’s a reason we landed on Aegean Soil.”
“Yes, because you’re my familiar, and you’re from here.”
He shakes his head. “That may be so, but it was your magic that led the way, whether you knew it or not. I do believe you were meant to fight for my kingdom and that the ties betweenyour father, your sister, and Jack are no mere coincidence.” His brown eyes are intense as they hold my gaze.
“If you decided you’d rather freeze to death fighting for Hyrax, then I would be by your side, Aegean or not. But no matter who you decide to fight for, you serve a dual purpose. You represent a system of checks and balances for the gods. The Blackbloods were the only ones who stood a chance against them and protected Solterre from their unpredictable whims and tantrums. You alone have the ability to be the protector of not just one kingdom, but all of Solterre.”
I blanch at his heavy words, struggling to comprehend how it’s me he’s talking about. It’smethe fae have anticipated, written songs about, painted portraits of.The Faceless Rider. All when I don’t even have the first clue of how to exist in this world. Right now, I’m a baby deer trying to learn to walk, but an entireworldneeds me to run…to fly.
Our conversation is interrupted by my stomach’s insistent growling.
“Let’s get some food in you.” He stands, holding his hand out to me. “We’ll pick this up tomorrow.”
Daytwo of training sucks just as much as day one. First, I got my ass handed to me by Jace. And then what little ass I had left got handed to me by Zadyn.
As promised, I attend the princess’s picnic after my lessons. I bring Zadyn with me, as per Cece’s request, relieved to have someone to lean on if the conversation falters. This is the most social I’ve been in years, albeit not entirely by choice, though the group seems amiable enough.
My jaw drops at the full view of the manicured grounds. We’re guided outside—down a wide stone staircase, past theveranda, and onto the lushest, greenest grass I’ve ever seen. Ahead, along the cobblestone pathway, stands the maze I glimpsed last night. In the daylight, its beauty is breathtaking, the towering, sculpted shrubs adorned with delicate, bright-colored flowers. Beyond the maze, a vibrant flower garden frames a row of majestic fountains. The serene sound of trickling water tickles my ears as I take in the watchful stares of the marble statues looming above us. I turn to Zadyn, unable to contain my amazement.
“Are those your gods?”
He nods. “All seven, plus Urhlon and Aerill.”
He points up at the fountain a few feet ahead, depicting an embrace between two figures. The female is wrapped in a toga-like garment; her crowned head leant back against the shoulder of a tall, robust male. His muscled arm is draped around her waist possessively, and in his outstretched hand, he holds an orb. The female bears its twin in her open palm.
“Sun and moon,” he explains to me in a hushed voice. “They were the first mated pair.”
“Really? I’m guessing that’s a big deal here?” I ask, my eyes drinking in the detailed statues.
“It is. It’s the equivalent of a twin flame.” He stares ahead, the sunlight turning his caramel hair golden.
“Their love story is a bittersweet one. Without physical forms of their own, they can only be together two nights of the year when they use willing vessels.”
“If they’re the sun and the moon and if they have no physical form, then their children…?” I trail off. He understands what I’m getting at.
“No one really knows how or why, but the children of the gods have both physical and celestial forms.”
