“Your father would want to see you happy, Liv. I will do what I can to help you deal with your mother,” I promise.
She gives me a sad smile. “You have enough on your plate without worrying about Mother. I will deal with her when I’m ready. But I do have a favor to ask?”
She’s not wrong. The castle is mine. Lukasia is no longer ruled by an imposter. I should be thrilled, but there is still so much to tend to.
“Of course, what is it?” I ask.
“Let me stay here for a while? I can help. Besides, I cannot face Mother while she’s freshly mourning.”
The picture of Queen Kyrrah in all black sends a shiver down my spine. “Stay as long as you need,” I tell my friend. “But, Liv?”
“Hmm?” She grabs a book from the shelf and plops down on the chaise.
“You cannot run from her forever.”
Her laugh is soft. “I’m not running. I’m strategizing. There’s a difference.”
“Does this mean we’re sending the armada back to inform her without you?” I ask. The trolls and the Clestrayan ships are waiting on orders from Anyx and Lavinia.
The two of them exchange another look, and then Anyx speaks, “I’ll be escorting the armada back to inform Queen Kyrrah of the king’s passing. The trolls will accompany me as far as my father’s realm.”
The male is my half-brother, and I hardly know him. I am weary of the gods and their motives, but I want to give him the benefit of the doubt. I hope, for Liv’s sake, that we can all find a way to get along.
“And Raiden?” Liv’s voice is soft, almost hesitant just before I reach the door to leave.
I turn back to my friend.
“I’m really sorry … about your mother. If I had known—"
My hand goes up out of reflex. “Don’t. If you had known, things could have gone so much worse. I could have lost my mother and my mate. I’m grateful, Liv. Just, next time you decide to be reckless, can you try not to get yourself hurt?”
She laughs, but it's Anyx who answers, “She won't be putting herself in any further danger from now on.” He’s not looking at me, rather staring over his book at the princess.
Lavinia tosses a throw pillow at the blue-haired demi-god, and he’s lucky it wasn’t a book. She starts to yell something about how he can’t tell her what to do, but I sneak out the door, closing it behind me so her voice doesn’t carry into the hall.
The castle is in a greater state of disrepair than I expected, but Arina and Phillipa have made it their life’s mission to bring vibrance and joy in while, as Phil says, “Ushering out all the negative energy.”
I follow the scent of hot bread down to the kitchens, where I find my mate elbow deep in dough and covered in flour. She recently discovered she’s able to grow her hair using her healing powers, and it’s tied back with a black ribbon.
“Breesha, do you mind if I borrow your helper for a little while?” I ask, knowing if I ask Arina, she’ll make me wait.
Breesha snaps her fingers at my mate, shooing her away, but Arina doesn’t budge. “I’ve been tryin’ to get her to take a break all afternoon, Highness.”
I swoop in, ignoring the squeals of protest, and throw her over my shoulder.
“What are you doing? Put me down!” She laughs and wriggles all the way to our room, where I lock the door behind me and throw her on the huge pillow-covered bed.
She’s got both her arms behind her back, and her knees pulled up like she’s ready to bolt.
“There's something I want from you.” I slouch in the chair across from the bed, legs spread wide and head tipped down, giving her space.
She studies me, but it’s hard to take her seriously when she’s covered in bread flour. “What would that be?”
“Something I believe you’re rather eager to have, too. If I’m not mistaken?” I gesture for her to come to me, and she obeys at an agonizing pace.
When she reaches the chair, I put my hands out, but I don’t touch her. “May I?” I ask, waiting for permission.
“Mhmm.” She nods and straddles me as I lift her dress.
