“A person like me?” My voice turns strident.
Griffin doesn’t say anything. Wisely.
I’m angry, but some part of me knows I’m not being fair. He was just guessing, probably based on some fairly obvious clues, when I should haveknown. I should have felt her. I should have wondered why fatigue and tears were coming so easily. I should have realized my stomach wasn’t acting up because I was overwrought, and I definitely should have realized I hadn’t had my monthly courses in ages, but there’s been so much going on.
While I’m still too bowled over to move, Flynn lifts Appoline from my lap and carries her to an undestroyed part of the throne room. Bellanca and Lystra follow, still holding their dead sister’s hands. Watching them, sympathy overwhelms me. I know what they’re feeling. I know they’ll feel it for years.
Jocasta suddenly takes off running, making me look left. Galen’s two children are heading for the crack in the wall—and freedom. Like the rest of her family, Jocasta is remarkably fast, and the pudgy boys don’t stand a chance. She erupts between them and twists their ears, sending them crashing to their knees with howls.
At the same time, a number of drenched guards start edging into the throne room, looking uncertain about what to do. I have yet to stand, but Ianthe turns to face them, and you’d never know she’d just been knocked unconscious. Her green eyes glint. Her smile is awful, her spine straight, her chin set at a hard angle. A small, immovable force, Ianthe looks more than ready to take on the lot of them. Again.
“Bow to your new sovereigns,” she commands, “or I’ll wash you clear out of the city.”
There’s a scant moment of hesitation, and then the guards bend their knees. Their heads lower in deference to Griffin and me.
“Now I know what you looked like five years ago.” Griffin shakes his head. “Actually, that’s what you look like now.”
I cock my head. Ianthe looks like a warrior. Is that what Griffin sees?
“Help me up,” I say under my breath.
Griffin grips my elbow and lifts. My legs feel…all right.
“Rise,” I tell the guards. Sure that someone went to raise the alarm, to the two closest I say, “Go to the barracks and call off whatever attack is being mounted. Don’t risk your lives to give Galen’s boys a chance at ruling just like their father. Appoline sacrificed herself for me. Her sisters are with us, and we expect the same loyalty from you.”
There’s another slight hesitation while their uncertain gazes slide over us. Over Cerberus, the hound carefully surveying the scene with six watchful eyes. Over Bellanca and Lystra, who aren’t paying any attention to us at all.
“Yes, Alpha Tarva,” the one who seems to be their leader answers.
“Queen Catalia,” I correct, only choking on the title a little. I lay my hand on Griffin’s arm, mostly for balance, but no one needs to know that. “This is King Griffin. We’re both Alpha. Together.” There’s no point in mentioning my being the Origin. They won’t understand what I barely understand myself.
“Send riders to fetch your healer from the hunting lodge and ours from the arena,” I add before they go. “Quickly. These soldiers need tending.” While a mess, I don’t see anyone who looks irretrievable. Yet.
Looking somewhat confused—either by the novel idea of an Alpha couple, or by the equally novel idea of anyone in power caring what happens to simple soldiers—the guards nod. The two closest to us rush to do my bidding.
I point to two more men. “You and you, go to the agoras of Tarva City and Kitros and announce that Elpis, the victors of the Agon Games, have seized control of Tarva. Since your new royals also rule Sinta, the two realms are now and forevermore joined as one.”
Slow blinks and tentative nods greet my bold pronouncement. This will take some getting used to—for everyone.
“You.” I point to another two. “Find me whoever is in charge of city planning. I want the destroyed neighborhood in Kitros cleaned up and replaced by an olive grove. Bury all the bones beneath the new trees. Our winnings from the Agon Games should more than finance the project.”
The nods are quicker this time, almost eager. Expressions relax. Eyes brighten. Men straighten.
Elpis.
Hope moves like a shimmering current through the air, almost tangible, an unspoken whisper, a promise I didn’t even realize I was making until it was already done. Intention anchors itself deep in my bones. Goose bumps rise on my arms. Excitement. Fear.
“You.” Another waterlogged guard snaps to attention. “Find me the castle scribe. We have news to spread. Sinta and Tarva are now one, and the Lost Princess of Fisa is coming for the rest of her kingdom.”
Eyes widen, and pretty much everyone in the room sucks in an audible breath.
The beginning of the end.
All but two of the remaining intact guards depart.
Turning to me, Griffin lifts his brows. “That’ll stir things up.”
I nod.The new beginning.My heart pounds like a herd of Centaurs. Our baby’s tiny life beat flutters along in response. “At the very least, Mother will know the deal is off.”
