My practiced speech, the words I’d carefully chosen, all fled my mind. I locked my muscles as the urge to flee settled over me. I had never backed down from a fight, and I wouldn’t now, even with the Gods themselves.
“We know what you seek, young king.” The second voice was just as haunting as the first. “But will you make the necessary sacrifice to obtain it?”
All I had done was sacrifice—everything and everyone I’d ever loved—to protect my kingdom. My people. I had nothing left to give. Nothing but my own life. They could take it. Take it all. This was my last chance. My only hope. I would willingly give my life if that’s what it took. As king, it was my duty and my burden.
“Yes.” My assent echoed around the barren room, followed by several beats of silence. Would they do it? Would they help me defeat him?
The first voice spoke again. “So be it.”
Chapter 1
Adelia
“Eleanor.” Gently tucking my sister’s curls behind her ear, I stirred her awake. Her dark eyebrows pinched, exactly as our mother’s always had. She was a spitting image, an exact replica, of Eldeira Rymes. High cheekbones led into a pert nose and soft chin. Flawless. Gentle.Sweet.Her very looks portrayed her personality.
“Lia?” Eleanor murmured before blinking awake. Familiar hazel eyes locked onto me, and my chest grew tight. They werehereyes. Our mother’s. I pushed down the grief still threatening to consume me even after all these years, forcing a smile as I stepped away from the bed.
“It’s time to wake up. I need to head to the market.” I grabbed my scarf and gloves, donning them quickly. Fall approached, that distinct scent lingered in the air, and the mornings had already grown cool.
“I’ll come!” I turned in time to catch Eleanor kicking away her blankets, her eyes sparkling at the thought of the messy thoroughfare that made our village’s merchant district. Her spirit of adventure called to the traveling merchants. She would hound each new traveler with a thousand questions—always starry-eyed and curious.
It was oftentimes difficult to keep her away. She was too pure and kind for this world. She found light in everyone and everything around her, believed that every person, no matter how cruel, carried some form of good. So much so, she ignored all signs that told her otherwise.
I sighed at the hopeful look on her face. There had been talk all week of a few new merchants—ones from Mortremon—who carried goods we hadn’t seen in years. Some fruits and fabrics could only be found in Mortremon, as others could only be found in Torglea. “Okay, but be quick about it. You’re due at the schoolhouse in a few hours.”
Eleanor scrambled around, changing into her favorite purple dress. I frowned at the hem barely skimming her ankles. How had she grown again? At barely eighteen, I thought she would have stopped by now. We had to commission new clothes just before last winter and she would need new ones again soon. I wasn’t sure our savings could cover it. Not yet anyway.
Eleanor had barely slid on her slippers before she was making for the door. Grabbing her by the elbow, I turned her toward the rickety dresser that housed the only mirror we had access to. Our differences were obvious when we were this close. My midnight-black hair smoothed away and tucked into a tight bun,whereas Eleanor’s messy chocolate-brown curls tumbled around her shoulders.
She huffed when I started to braid them, the only way to keep them under control. “Lia, I was going to tie it up.”
I snorted, catching her grinning reflection. “You’ll pile it on top of your head in a messy knot, and it’ll take me hours to brush it out.”
She shrugged and let me tie her curls back without further complaint. Once I was done, I wrapped a scarf around her neck, knowing she’d likely run off without one and catch a chill; she had just gotten over the last one. Another impatient huff escaped, and I joined her in grinning.
She played the impatient brat, but we both knew she loved these small moments of care. She’d been so young when our parents died, and missed our mother taking care of her most. I did my best to fill those shoes, knowing I would fall woefully short every time.
Nothing could replace that loss.
Eleanor chatted the entire way to the merchant district. The streets already bustled with early workers, busier than usual for this time of morning. The main reason I went to the market so early was to avoid the worst of the crowds. Today, villagers swarmed the streets with a strange buzz of excitement.
“Do you know what’s going on?” I murmured. She always stayed abreast of the town’s gossip, whereas I tended to avoid it as much as possible. Especially since I’d been the subject of one too-many rumors in the past few years. Eleanor shook her head absentmindedly as we arrived at the market; she would be too distracted for me to get anything out of her now.
I trailed behind her, filling my basket with supplies from the list Mr. Port had given me while she darted between the various stalls lining the street. It wasn’t a normal request; Ivan tended to most of these errands, but he had been ill the last two days,so Mr. Port had sent me to top up our depleting food stores. Though I didn’t know why we even bothered—people didn’t come to Port’s Tavern for a good meal, they came for the ale and the brothel next door.
“Oh! Look, Lia. Cherries!” Eleanor hurried to the stall covered in baskets filled with the ruby fruit. The merchant smiled, offering one to her. She took it before I could protest, popping the small berry into her mouth and closing her eyes. She moaned before opening them again. “Lia, you have to try.”
“Miss?” The merchant held the small basket out. Despite his friendly smile, I hesitated—narrowing my eyes at the fruit as if it would jump out and attack at any moment. The fact he was offering the expensive berries to taste had my back prickling with suspicion. The man was likely from Mortremon since cherries wouldn’t grow in Torglea.
A high-pitched wail rang through the air. I gripped Eleanor’s elbow and tugged her behind another stall piled high with potatoes, its merchant distracted by the chaos. People flooded the streets, eager to see the cause of the commotion, while I pulled Eleanor to a crouch behind the table.
Through a small gap in the crowd, I could just make out shining armor.
Soldiers.
They hauled a man between them, his feet dragging along the dirt and his head lolled to the side, blood dripping down his face. The woman who ran beside them was the source of the noise. “Please! He did nothing wrong. He didn’t do it. Please! I beg you,” she cried, each word more hysterical than the last. Tears ran down her red face, and she tugged at the soldier’s arm. He shoved her off him, and she fell to the ground with a sob.
Eleanor stood taller, trying to get a closer look, and I jerked her down as panic threatened to choke me. “What are you doing?” I hissed once she was safely behind the potatoes again.
