Abene and Maialen.Amarande swallowed, willing her face to stay blank, even as panic rose within her—a wildfire.
“Darling daughter, hear me now and know what I say to be true.” Geneva crossed the short distance and tipped up Amarande’s chin so that she could look nowhere but into her mother’s eyes—blue and aflame. “If this boy and his wolf tattoo is out to unseat the Warlord, I will personally see to it that he fails.”
CHAPTER16
“CREATEDit?” Luca’s words tasted like ashes in his mouth. “Tala, please, spare no detail.” He glanced at Ula, who looked as if she were a million miles away. She already blamed Ardenia for doing nothing to help the Torrent but this suggestion… it was a path that was dark indeed. “I know King Sendoa did not do enough to unseat the Warlord. How did that inaction lead to the creation of the Torrent?”
The man drew in a deep and weary breath. Suddenly Tala appeared so much older, the weight of the years and fight slumping his shoulders as he found the words to explain what had led to the resistance he had built.
“My Otsakumea, your father, King Lotyoa, was a longtime friend of King Sendoa. Our king was ten years older, and regarded King Sendoa as a brash younger brother. Their connection was much stronger than with the other rulers. King Domingu was too old to be a peer. King Akil’s father, King Alladan, was dead, and the Dowager Queen Tiya was not interested in making friends. King Louis-David was a peer but was even more disinterested in such things than Dowager Queen Tiya. And so all that is to say, Lotyoa and Sendoa were friends on a continent where that is rare.”
Friends.The Warrior King was friendly among those who knew him well, yes. But he considered himself protector of the Sand and Sky—a role he took on not out of friendship but as a strategy to insulate Ardenia.
Perception and perspective—did they drive everything, even at the top?
“Forgive me, Tala, but from what I know of Amarande’s life, not a single person of royal blood seems to trust one another. It seems to bear no consequence if they appear to be friendly with one another.” Luca gestured to where gauze peeked out from the top of his tunic, marking his wound. “I have personally experienced what a brother would do to remove his own blood from the line of succession. That blood and appearance of loyalty didn’t matter; why would friendship?”
He nodded, grave. “What matters is that it didn’t.”
“That doesn’t make sense,” Urtzi grunted, gnawing on a hunk of bread.
“I was there; it does make sense if you understand the situation,” Tala said. “Though they had been friends, that relationship became closer as they became older, then faced the same milestones in a sort of delayed succession—the loss of a father, elevation to the throne, marriage. They were as close as could be. And yet, right after King Sendoa married Queen Geneva, something about his relationship with King Lotyoa changed.”
It hit Luca that though he knew Amarande was not like the rest, perhaps it wasn’t possible to say the same about her father.
“Immediately after the wedding, King Sendoa called upon King Lotyoa. Twice, I heard raised voices from the royal chambers. Years later we discovered that within a week of that final visit, King Sendoa’s soldiers moved into the Kingdom of Torrence and took the first steps toward the Eradication of the Wolf.”
A chill paced Luca’s spine. “Steps. What were they? How?”
“These soldiers found the first Warlord, a man by the name of Jericho Talmage.” This was not a name Luca had yet heard. Looking around, it appeared, no one else had either. “They stoked his anger against the Otxoa, solidified his support, shored up his supplies, and strategized what would become, a short time later, a coup.”
Luca squeezed his eyes shut. “They created it byinstallingthe Warlord.”
“Yes, my Otsakumea.”
Luca drew in a deep breath and opened his eyes. “Why?”
“I do not know. All I know is though King Sendoa did not lift a finger in the killing of the Otxoa, he gave the order.”
Luca stared at the Otxoa’s most trusted advisor. The ghost of the father figure Luca had known his whole life sat heavily on his shoulders—this man who had opened his home, given him a job, ensured he was educated, could he have done such a thing? Been so generous with one hand and so cruel with the other? He attempted and failed to swallow as he read Tala’s burnished face. The older man did not break eye contact, his dark pupils unwavering. “This is not secondhand information?”
“No. It is my information and it is the truth. I survived it.” Taladid not raise his voice, but his words were as knife thrusts, one after another, all aimed at the memory of Sendoa so vivid in Luca’s mind.
There had to be a reason. This could not be true.
Tala seemed to read Luca’s thoughts. He continued. “And if you do not believe me, ask yourself why a man who styled himself as the great protector of the Sand and Sky let the continent’s heart be burned down and destroyed with a shrug and a glance the other way.”
Luca swallowed. “You know the name Jericho Talmage. Do you know the identity of the others?”
“No. He is the only one we have confirmed.” Tala’s eyes narrowed. “What are you getting at, my Otsakumea?”
Luca drew in a deep breath. “My princess believes the current Warlord—or, if your intelligence is correct and there is a new Warlord, the previous one—was her mother. You said the title did not seem to pass hands for a long time. Is it possible King Sendoa did not attack because he knew the Runaway Queen was the Warlord?”
Tala thought on this awhile, as it seemed to be news to him. After a long moment, he said, “Or that could have been what he wanted all along. Control of the Torrent. Perhaps he had it through her. And with his death, unwittingly relinquished control.”
Which could mean Amarande’s mother was forced out. Or dead. Days after Amarande was sure she had laid eyes on her. Maybe.
How many times had he sat in the meadow with Amarande on the anniversary of the loss of their mothers—hers to disappearance, his to illness—listening to her wander through her thoughts about her father’s heartbreak over Queen Geneva’s flight? How King Sendoa wouldn’t marry again with his heart in pieces. How Amarande was grateful he had Koldo’s friendship to bolster the broken parts of him.
