Amira stood up, abruptly removing her hand from Elyssa’s. “You think it’s that simple? Walking away from a wedding with the future high king? You’re more naïve than I am. No matter how much I might want to, I can’tsavemyself.”
Without letting her reply, Amira walked away, slamming the library door behind her. She ran into the corridor, not paying attention to the servants staring at her as she passed.
Inside her bedroom, Amira fell on her bed, her body agitated by twitches. She clasped her hands together, trying to calm herself. The darkness was rising, showing its ugly head, whispering in her ear.Let it all out.
Amira looked at her nightstand, knowing she had kept one pill in her bottom drawer. Formemory.
Taking out the pill, her heart beat erratically in her chest. Would she waste two weeks of effort? Flashes of Karwyn spread through her mind. His hand on her throat, pushing her against the railing of the balcony. His insane eyes mocking her, devouring her. His hand turned scorching hot as his face morphed into Wryen, his lilac eyes every bit as evil.
There was no escape, no future, no miraculous solution. Amira was doomed, and all she could do was live with it the best she could. She raised the pill to her mouth, already imagining the high.
A loud knock almost made her drop the pill before her hand balled into a fist, hiding the evidence.
“Princess Amira, His Majesty is requesting to have lunch with you,” a servant called out.
Amira took a deep breath. Before the servant could open the door, she slipped the pill back into her drawer.
She couldn’t appear high in front of Tarnan, not after all her effort. Getting that key might be her only way out.
* * *
“I’m glad to see you doing better, Amira,” Tarnan said while raising his glass of peach juice. He had removed the alcohol from the cabinet in a touching attempt at helping with her “drinking” problem.
Amira raised her glass. “I do feel better. The air here is…refreshing.”
“I’m sure it is,” Tarnan said with a knowing smile.
As they dug into the food, Amira couldn’t help but think back on her outburst with Elyssa. She meant no harm, but Elyssa was so clueless about Amira’s situation. Amira couldn’t tell her about her darkness binding her to a fate she wouldn’t wish on anyone.
“What’s on your mind? You’ve barely eaten,” Tarnan said.
Amira quickly chased her thoughts away. “I was thinking back on my reading of the day.”
“I love hearing you talk about your findings. Enlighten me, please.” Tarnan propped his chin on his hand, giving her his full attention.
“It was a book on the history of the Sartoya bloodline. I know the Dark King was evil, but it is sad to know even his innocent children have perished.”
Tarnan’s face grew serious. “Do you know the true story of the Sartoya children’s ultimate demise?”
“The black magic that got to them?” Amira asked before thinking back on something she’d heard growing up in Allamyst. “I have heard whispers that it was the Dark King himself who killed them, his mind twisted by the black magic eating at him.”
Tarnan calmly clasped his hands together as he spoke. “That’s Harten Adelway’s version of events. In reality, it wasHartenwho killed them all—from the Dark King’s siblings to his children. He feared they would possess the same powers of mind control as their father. Only a few royals know the true story.”
Amira’s breath was cut short by the revelation. “And everyone went with it?”
“My parents were against it—they thought the children should be saved. Their voices weren’t heard, not with Harten—the future high king—screaming over them. He argued it was too big of a risk to let them live, to let the legacy continue. Yet to save his image, he blamed their deaths on dark magic instead of his cruelty.”
“That is…unfathomable. Starting a new reign on the blood of innocent children…I can’t imagine anything more evil.” Karwyn had definitely inherited his cruelty from his father. “What did my father say?” Amira knew her father had fought against the Dark King, joining forces with the other kings and queens.
Tarnan lowered his gaze to the plate in front of him, yet made no move to eat. “Your father was on the fence. He tried to argue against Harten, but was scared to directly challenge him. Zain later confessed to me that he had nightmares about the massacre for decades.”
Heshouldhave nightmares about it. She herself was plagued by every life lost because of her. “My father never told me about this.”
“The ones who fought tried hard to forget. It’s a natural reaction. My father kept the memory alive. He didn’t want me to forget what came before, what evil can be bestowed upon such innocence as defenseless children.” Tarnan wiped his mouth with his napkin. “But enough history for now. I was thinking, would you like to see Pyria today? A change of scenery might help with your recovery, and I think you’ll enjoy the city.” Tarnan gave her a kind smile. “I promise the air there is better than anywhere else,” he joked.
It had been so long since she’d gotten to walk around somewhere peaceful, not fleeing to a bar with Rhay or escaping a riot in Parae. “I would love to see your capital,” she said, meaning it.
“Then it’s settled.” Tarnan raised his glass. “To the sky,” he toasted again. Amira copied his gesture and smiled. In return, Tarnan’s grin widened, and something like pride shone in his eyes. “I appreciate your effort, Amira. You have been very respectful of my books, always pleased to entertain me with your readings. I’m starting to see the old Amira—the one who would light up every room she entered.”
