Pain flashes across his expression and I gather my dress around me, feeling extremely vulnerable right now. He proceeds to attach his sword back to his hip before sitting beside me.
“Is there something wrong with me?” the words slip out. I have to know, for myself. “Would you want me if I was like amæna?”
“There is nothing, absolutely nothing wrong with you. I just ... I refuse to treat you as amæna. If I have you, I will want to keep you, and I can't. I won't do that to either of us, it was stupid of me to think I could have just one more moment. I shouldn't have done anything, you told me to go and I should have. If you’re ...” He roughly wipes his face, holding back tears. He breathes out slowly, “If your future husband found out, or his people, my death would be instant, yours too, most likely.”
I pull myself to my knees, my hands hang limply in my lap. Tears again stream down my face, back to where we were when this started tonight. “He wouldn't ...”
He shakes his head. “Maybe not. But I know the Shastonians, I won't risk it. If it was just my life – I would forfeit it in a moment, but I won't risk yours. Goodnight, Carnaxa.” He kisses my forehead again and leaves before I find the words or courage to say anything else.
The soft click of my door is all it takes for my heart to break. I want to scream. I want to curse the Goddess for letting me have these feelings. Instead, I lie down on my side and pull my knees up to my chest and watch the moon in the distance, wishing to be back home. To be back in the land of my Goddess, even though right now, she seems angry at me. A land where I could have been with Thylas.
The crescent moon watches over me, casting shadows through the room, and I give into the pull of sleep. The shadows are theonly ones who will know the truth of tonight, after all, shadows are made for secrets.
twenty-five
EREON
There was a time in my life when I wanted the fear of everyone, and most days I still do. I want the fear of my men, I've done many things over the years to ensure that fear. I want the fear of my people, Shaston knows nothing else but fear. It has proved itself useful. If you disobey, you die. It's simple, and if I'm honest, the fear has created a kingdom of amazing soldiers who I know are lethal.
Knowing the plans my father has laid out for me, even if I wanted to do something different, it wouldn't matter. The old man refuses to step down as it is, he won't step down at all if he thinks I will change Shaston. He likes ruling and the power that comes with the position. To make sure I comply, he found my weakness. Anara’s almond-shaped eyes and thick lashes haunt me tonight. The fear of what is happening to her by his hands. To make matters worse, my feelings for Carnaxa are getting in my way, seeing how radiant Carnaxa looked tonight, wondering if she tasted as good as she smelled. But I can't think like that. I'll ruin her, I'll have to. Never in the years since I wasgiftedAnara have I wanted another person, and I can't explain why I would want one now. I will fall on my own sword for Anara, and I will if that's what it takes. But that annoying rush of emotions I felt when I first saw Carnaxa is getting stronger and harder to ignore.
Ten Months Ago
She walks in behind her father, her hands visibly shaking. Her plaited, cerulean-blue hair lays softly on her left shoulder as she walks with her head lowered, and I can see her nibbling on her bottom lip. The purple gown she wears fits her so well that it leaves little to the imagination, but I know the truth of what this is. It is an arrangement, that is all. I am here to get her back to Shaston, and that's what I will do.
"Prince Ereon, we were not expecting your arrival so soon.” King Clennom walks past me, taking his seat on his coral throne. “But, I knew this day would come soon – so we welcome you back to Antalis.”
She walks up the dais, never once looking at me. A man, her guard, stops just at the steps but I don't miss the look of disdain he sends my way. He'll be one to watch. She steps beside her father and he reaches out to hold her hand. “This is my daughter, Carnaxa.”
She looks up and her eyes connect with mine. The beauty of the sea does not compare to the sight of those eyes. I greedily drink in the view with awe as my heart triples in speed. She's beautiful, more beautiful than my father told me. She smiles softly at me but her eyes flick to her guard, and I can feel a tightening in my chest as my heart feels as if it’s rushing toward her. A gold-something snakes into my vision, but before I can make head or tales of it – it's gone.
“It's nice to meet you, Princess Carnaxa,” I can hear my voice, but I'm not sure how I'm speaking. I feel as if my breath has been taken from me, a moment I've not felt in a very long time. But it doesn't matter, I have arrangements to make and plans to keep.
Present
I roll my neck back and forth, throwing the plush covers from over me, and step toward the window. I will miss the weather here. I will miss the relief from the heat and the sun. Running my hands through my curls, I try to tame them the best I can. My mother used to say I always looked unruly because of them. Putting my forearm on the window ledge, I lean out, enjoying the cool night surrounding me.
I'm not ready to return to Shaston. Partly my father's rule and partly the torrid weather that never gives relief. If I were to believe myths, it's the curse of the Goddess. The curse of banishment for something or another, I never did pay muchattention. Who wants to live in myths of the past when you have to focus on surviving the present?
The village is quiet now, with no laughing or music as it was earlier when I first came to my rooms. The rumbling of my stomach has me wanting a bit of something to eat. I really should have paid less attention to Carnaxa and more to the meal that was before me. Watching her lips as they grazed that roll had completely taken my attention. I survey the room, looking for something I can escape to the kitchen in.
Foregoing a shirt, considering no one will be awake but servants anyway, I grab loose-fitting pants that sit loose on my hips, a short-sleeved, black, silk robe that I leave open, and my leather sandals. Opening my door, I nod toward the guards who stand there. They'll follow me, as always, three steps behind. The downfall of being a prince, you're almost always followed. I could turn them away but that would lead to questions from my father when they report back. I don't trust any of them. Thankfully these aren't the same two from earlier.
The palace is quiet and much darker at night. Lit torches line the walls of the wooden castle. From marble in Antalis, wood in Midaeliea, and then we have sandstone in Shaston — to all be on the same continent — the further north one travels, the more our differences show.
Thankfully, this castle is relatively easy to navigate, and I don't get lost heading toward the kitchen. I open the door and peer in, moonlight streams through three windows on the ceiling. A way to ensure the entire room can be used by allowing in natural light. I like it, maybe we could add one to my rooms in Shaston. I start walking to the giant, wooden table in the middle of the large space; it appears to still have fruits, cheese, and bread on it, but I stop suddenly when I hear a whimper.
Turning sharply to my right, I notice a small figure sitting in a chair next to a round table in the corner. It's Carnaxa. What onAshonera is she doing here at this hour? She could be hungry, like me, but why alone and where is her damn guard again? I motion to my own guards to stand at the door as I look at her again.
“Princess Carnaxa?” I step toward her as she spins, wiping tears off her cheeks.
“Oh, Prince Ereon. I'm sorry. I didn't think anyone would be here.”
My stomach decides to make its emptiness known and rumbles through the quiet room. A small laugh escapes her. “I thought we were done with the formalities. We have to be now that you've heard the sounds of my stomach. Can I sit with you?”
She nods. “You started with the conventions first, you called me ‘Princess Carnaxa.’” A hint of a smile touches her lips. I'll hate when she no longer does that in my kingdom.
“You're right. My apologies. But you do fit the name ‘Princess.’” I grab a few strawberries, a chunk of bread, and what looks to be cinnamon butter. My favorite. Sitting beside her, I can't help but let my gaze take her in. Her pale blue hair is cast in a haphazard bun on the top of her head, tendrils hanging down around her face. She wears a short top that shows off her stomach and loose-fitting pants in the colors of her house, dark blue and silver. Her eyes are puffy and red, it's obvious she's upset and has been crying.
