She knew what it meant. Will was readying for a fight. She called her own power forward, her shackles frosting as she froze the metal. She wrenched her hands apart, thesnapof the chain echoing through the throne room with heavy implication.
“I did kill Gianna,” Aya admitted. She had already told Hyacinth as much, but she could tell the rest of them, too. She turned to face the crowd, her attention shifting between the executioner and the people who stood transfixed as she said, “I killed Gianna because she was dangerous, and threatened to let Kakos continue to destroy our kingdom if I did not call down the gods for her.”
A murmur rippled through the space, but Aya did not give their reaction time to fester.
“If you want to convict me of any crime, it should be this: I brought the Original Saint, Evie, through the veil. I did it because I thought she could help us defeat the Decachiré. But I was wrong. Evie is no saint—she is a demigod, born of aforgotten goddess who was conceived in secret by Pathos and Saudra. The gods killed her that day she opened the veil for no other reason than they were threatened by her power. And now…she’s here to exact her revenge.
“The prophecy that was foretold of the gods choosing a Second Saint is a lie. The gods did not give me this power.” Aya glanced down at her hands. “It was imparted to me by Evie as she tried to escape the veil the gods trapped her in for over five hundred years.”
When she dared to look into the crowd again, she found Pa instantly. His dark brown stare grounded her as efficiently as any measured breath could.
“Kakos will come for Tala,” Aya told them. “They will not stop until they destroy the veil and kill the gods. Whatever crimes the Divine may have committed…our realm does not deserve to be tangled in the consequences of them. I may not be chosen by the Divine, but Idohave the power of the gods in me. But I cannot do this alone.”
She considered whether to tell them more; to even try to explain the condition of the veil, and the sacrifice she might have to make to mend it. But Galda was stepping forward, her gravelly voice rising to the commanding tone that had embedded itself deep within Aya’s subconscious.
“The Dyminara stand with you,” she called, her hand closing into a fist over her chest. “By our blood, we will fight beside you.”
Slowly, one by one, the rest of the Dyminara followed suit, until each one was making the sign of their sacred oath.
Aya blinked against the burning in her eyes, even as Hyacinth let out a bitter scoff.
“The Dyminara serve at the pleasure of their queen,” the High Priestess scolded.
Galda rose a brow. “Actually, Your Majesty, the Dyminara serve at the pleasure of their kingdom.” She took a pointed step forward. “If you wish to proceed with this execution,you will have to get through us to do so.”
Aya’s heart twisted as Pa raised his sword with the rest of the Dyminara, his age-lined face thunderous in a way she had never seen before.
“And us,” a voice called from the back of the hall.
Liam stepped into the throne room, Dauphine at his side. Behind them stood a small contingent of Midlandian soldiers who parted to reveal a tall woman with light brown skin and silken black hair. A golden crown rested on her head.
“Let it be known, Hyacinth,” Queen Nyra said as she stepped out in front of her party, “that the Midlands will not tolerate this wrongful conviction. If you want our soldiers joining your fight against the Decachiré, you will not lay a hand on these warriors.”
Aya had never realized how hope could feel so similar to fear. It stole her breath and dragged something sharp down her throat, but she found she didn’t mind the pain. Not even when it doubled as a deep baritone voice added to the mix.
“Milsaio agrees,” King Sarhash said as he walked into the hall, Cole on his heels. “We fight under Aya Veliri, or we do not fight at all.”
The murmurs of the crowd had grown to a fever pitch, the din overlapping and echoing across the space. But Aya could do nothing but stare at them—Sarhash and Nyra and Liam and Galda and Mathias andPa.
They had come for her. They had come for her, and they believed her, and she was not alone.
She looked to Will, that hope reflected back in the green flecks shining in his irises.
They were not alone.
59
It was amazing how quickly it was all over. After weeks of planning, it seemed strange to Josie to suddenly wake up in her own bed, as if her home hadn’t been taken over at all.
Aleissande had insisted on having every crevice of the palace searched before she and Aidon spent the night. There was also the matter of having the staff questioned—but Josie had convinced Aleissande that they couldn’t possibly manage all of that in one night. So instead, the general had settled for standing guard outside Josie’s door while she slept, having assigned another Visya guard to Aidon’s room.
“And when will you sleep?” Josie had asked, her arms folding across her chest as she rose a stern brow at Aleissande.
“When I know you’ve rested,” Aleissande had replied before pressing a gentle kiss to Josie’s lips.
As ifthatwas supposed to help her close the door.
Miraculously, she had, and she was grateful she’d slept through the night. She’d expected to be plagued by nightmares, especially after all Aidon had told her.
