Zendaya
Behati gestures toward the Nebban commander who disembarked with her, along with seven Faeries in forest-green military regalia. All of them have pointy ears and long braids, and all of them are staring at me—mostly at my uncommon eyes and retracted tusk, but my crown also proves an object of great interest.
Nevertheless, no one stares at it more than Kanti. I don’t think she’s blinked away from it once since I dismounted Cathal. I feel sorry for my cousin, and genuinely hope that, in time, she’ll manage to stop coveting it since I’ve no plans to hand it over. Not for the foreseeable future anyway, and never to her.
Better lock up that crown when you’re not wearing it,Agrippina singsongs into my mind.
From how close Reid stands to her, I take it they’ve made peace.Mates…Though I don’t need a magical bond to feel sure of Cathal’s feelings, I hold out hope that he is my mate. He may claim it won’t change anything, but I sense he needs the peace of mind that I’ll not wander into someone else’s bed.
Perhaps I should suggest marriage. That would appease him. If I do, though, I’d need to suggest it before we lay together so hedoesn’t view it as some consolation prize. Yes, as soon as we’re done here, I’ll ask him to marry me. I find my mood perking up, already imagining his reaction.
“It’s no laughing matter, Zendaya,” Behati says, squeezing the pommel of yet a new cane, one made from that same white material as the Nebban warship. “Why am I expecting you to care that your mother’s on the loose? She just made you queen. For all we know, you played a part in freeing her.”
My good humor withers. In a way, I did, but that’s none of anyone’s business. Besides, it was unintentional. I’m about to retort that I didn’t cavort with my mother, but I owe my grandmother’s advisor no explanation.
Cool smoke slithers around my neck and arms as Cathal steps closer to my backside, so close that I can sense his heart thudding as fast as mine through the armor pressed along my spine.
“The Mahananda made me queen, Behati. All my mother did was make me immortal.”
Clearly, Behati hasn’t learned of my immortality, for my words blow her pupils wide. Kanti’s, as well. When the two exchange a look, I start to question the intent of their voyage. But another musing takes precedence over this one.
“Did you know that Priya had bound me?” I ask.
“With what? Rope?” Kanti asks.
Not the shiniest jewel on the crown, that one, huh?Agrippina’s comment beams a sliver of light on my darkened mood.
“Behati?” I prompt when the pale-haired sorceress has still not replied. “Were you aware that Priya bound my Shabbin magic?”
She scoffs. “She’s been gone one day, and already you’ve renounced your kinship.”
What in the realm does she mean?
“How Daya processes her grief is none of your concern,” Cathal growls. “Now bloody answer her question before I?—”
“Before you what, Cathal?” Behati’s eyes are narrowed. “Before you try to drag it out of me with an iron talon? I’m Shabbin.”
A boat pops out of the ramparts, right behind the Nebbans. They jump and scatter when the sand liquefies into a watery trench linking the Sahklare to the open sea. I suppose that, because of my mother’s wards, none have ever witnessed how ships sail out of Shabbe.
Enzo hops out, eyes glossed with a mixture of anguish and anger. Though he begged me to wait when he caught us soaring over the ship, we didn’t. Partly because I wanted to expedite this meeting, partly because being immortal has boosted my confidence to dangerous levels, and partly because the Mahananda said that, to replace Behati as its seer, she’d either need to name her successor and enter the Mahananda with her chosen, or breach the covenant she and it struck, at which point the Mahananda would bestow the gift upon another.
“Did you. Bloody. Know?” Cathal all but shouts.
I reach behind me until I locate his clenched fist. Instantly, his fingers fall open and seize mine. I draw little arcs across his skin with my thumb in the hopes of calming him.
“Yes,” Behati blusters back. “Yes, I knew.”
Kanti whirls toward her, her unbound locks swirling and smacking the nude silk gloving her hourglass figure.
“Why do you think it took so long to cure your people of their curse? The Mahananda wasn’t only depleted, it was angry. Even after Priya explained her reasons for doing what she did.”
“Which were?” I ask.
“Your grandmother wanted to ensure that the creature the Mahananda delivered into her queendom was worthy of immortality.”
Cathal’s fingers clamp around mine. I draw more arcs, hoping to allay his tension and communicate through touch how unaffected I am by Behati’s opinion of me. I don’t need her regard or her affection, not as long as I have the Mahananda’s, Cathal’s, Fallon’s, and my Serpents’.
“The creature?” Agrippina crosses her arms and cocks an eyebrow.
