“Yes.”
What do you do when faced with the horrific actions of your ancestors? I’d spent so long thinking the Brennac King was a monster for the fall of Phynx…but two treacherous wrongs never truly made a right.
I stared into the empty sockets.
No.This couldn’t have been the way of the realm for so long. My ancestors couldn’t…wouldn’t have done this.
“Why were they not buried?” I asked, throat tightening.
Chapter 6
Krait
Why hadn’t we buried our dead? That, at its core, was a painful question.
“We still find so many…It’s hard to delay every time.” Elsedora offered the simple answer.
Queen Sybilla brought her hands to her wool-covered hips, wiping her palms. Wool. For a journey through the desert.
We’d been traveling for over a week, but it was only our first day in the Sahlms. If she didn’t stop being so stubborn and put something more suitable on, she’d die of heat stroke before we arrived in Sahlmsara.
So be it.
“That’s a horrid excuse,” Sybilla said plainly. “Bring me a shovel. I know you’ve got one for digging holes to shit in.”
My mouth hung open, and I thought about disagreeing. “Fine.”
“Fine,” Sybilla grunted back at me, mocking my curtness in an artificially low voice. I didn’t sound likethat.
Elsedora chuckled. I shot her a glare, and she responded, “What? That was pretty good.”
As El went off to find a shovel, Sybilla wandered toward the side of the trail.
“Over there,” Sybilla said as she stared at a desert meadow. Late spring in these highland areas meant the usually sparse, sharp brown grasses were somewhat green and Larkspur shot up in bright blue patches across the otherwise rocky terrain. “It looks...peaceful. And those wildflowers are beautiful. I like those.”
After being brought the shovel, Sybilla spent the next fifteen minutes attempting to dig a hole large enough for the skull. The unforgiving rocky ground fought every strike against it.
Pathetic…yet slightly endearing.
She let the shovel rest against her shoulder and rubbed at her wrists. The sight of her attempting to bury the fallen of my land stirred something in me. It was a gesture of respect to bury another ruler’s dead.
Respect went further with me than kindness or likability. I pushed off from where I’d been leaning against the carriage and approached her.
“Move.” My command only resulted in her raising one choice manicured finger.
No shredding her to pieces with Shadows.
No violence toward our new ally.
Instead of biting back, I let my Shadows reach out and grab the shovel, pulling it away from her. She gasped as the dark tendrils brushed her fingers, unraveling them from around the wooden handle.
“That is creepy,” she mumbled. Yet, when I lifted the Shadows to create shade for her, she didn’t hesitate to step beneath it. “And nice to know you could have donethatsooner.”
I hummed a dull response, taking the shovel in my hand, and finished digging the hole.
“I loosened that dirt for you,” she justified with a smirk as I wiped my brow and glanced down at her red face. Sweat beaded down her neck and then disappeared between her breasts. My eyes had only been drawn to the spot because a sun rash had formed across her chest.
“You’re going to overheat if you don’t change,” I grumbled. After pushing the shovel’s head down into the rocky terrain, I crossed my arms.
