But that’s far from the fate the gods cursed me with.
I shove my hands deep into my coat pockets before anyone can see how fiercely they tremble, and raise my chin high for those watching. “Take me to the advisers.”
CHAPTER TWO
The throne room falls silent when I enter, the last tendrils of conversation evaporating like smoke as the heels of my boots snap against the marble floor.
Bitter air and the prickle of ghosts brushing against my skin welcome me into a room I’ve not stepped foot in since I fought Kaven here last summer. It’s one that no longer shows signs of the fire that destroyed it, or even a drop of the blood I remember flowing so freely from Father’s corpse when he drove a sword through his own stomach to sever his connection to Kaven and give Bastian and me the ability to fight him.
I don’t stop to observe the advisers who stand and bow their heads until after I’ve taken a seat at the head of an oversize black quartz table, rubbing my fingers over the charred bones of my throne—freshly lacquered since the fire so that it’s sturdy enough to sit upon.
It’s a cruel punishment to hold our council meeting here, but no one says a word, likely thinking the same thing I am—one of us is sitting in the very spot where Father died.
Mother sits after I do. Her curls are slicked back, fashioned into plaits that are so tight they lift her forehead, making her eyebrows high and alert. Once, her beautiful brown skin glowed radiant as the seaside cliffs at sunrise. Now it’s sallow and sunken, and she holds her lips like she’s just taken a bite of something thoroughly unsatisfying. Perhaps she feels the wrongness of this room as much as I do.
Advisers from each of the islands—with the notable but not unexpected exception of Kerost—take their seats around us. Feathered quills and parchments full of notes lie before them. There’s an empty seat on my right meant for my leading adviser, Ferrick, but I wave for a royal guard to take his chair away.
“Ferrick has duties elsewhere today,” I tell the advisers before they can ask, jutting my jaw so that I might look as authoritative as possible beneath my crown. “I’ll speak on behalf of Arida myself.”
Next to me, Mother’s voice chides in a whisper only I can hear, “Mind your tone, Amora. You’re not here to fight; we all want the same thing.”
Her words force my lips into a thin line. Ever since I took the throne, there’s been no shortage of those who question my authority. But she’s right; confronting Visidia’s advisers as though I’m prepared to fight them will do me no good.
Digging deep into myself, I find my will to continue playing the game Mira and I started back on the docks—the same tired game I’ve been playing with the kingdom since taking the throne. I plaster a smile to my lips.
“Thank you all for coming.” I make myself sound lighter this time. Friendlier. “I know things are difficult for all of us right now, so I appreciate everyone’s willingness to meet.”
“I’m glad we finally have the chance.” The voice that speaks is deceptively tender. It belongs to Zale, the newly appointed adviser of Zudoh, an island we’re working on reintroducing into the kingdom after my father wrongly banished them eleven years ago. Though her people cruelly suffered, Zale was kind enough to offer my crew and me shelter and protection when we arrived in Zudoh on our quest to find Kaven—even despite Bastian being his brother.
Ever since her island was freed from Kaven’s reign, she’s developed a lively glow to her warm skin, and her once hollow eyes have filled with a brilliance that rivals the brightest malachite. She’s gorgeous in her silky white robes, but there’s a fierceness in her that’s not to be overlooked. Zale’s one of the sharpest and most determined women I’ve ever met.
Beside her, Lord Bargas sits as proudly as one can be while bundled in a ruby coat so thick that it’s practically a blanket. Accompanied by his young successor, they represent Valuka, the kingdom of elemental magic. My heart skips a beat when I see him, as I’m reminded sharply of Bastian and how he’d pretended to be the baron’s son on the night we first met to gain entry to my birthday celebration. The baron and his crew had been left out at sea, disarmed, disrobed, and under the heavy influence of Curmanan sleeping powder.
“Hello, Your Majesty.” His lips pull into the kind of smile that could melt ice during the coldest winter. He’s the oldest adviser, nearly sixty, and seeing him not only reminds me of Bastian, but also of the way Father liked to joke with the baron. The way he would clap Lord Bargas on the shoulder and roar with one of his chest-rattling laughs.
“It’s a pleasure to see you again, Lord Bargas.” I clear my throat and the emotion swelling within it, tucking it away for a later time when eyes are less prying. “I hear you were sleeping the last time we all met.” That earns me a few chuckles, even from the lord and the young woman sitting next to him.
“I assure you, it wasn’t by choice.” There’s a conspiring gleam in his eyes. “That blasted pirate even stole one of my favorite swords. Be sure to get that back for me, would you?”
I match his lively smile. “I’ll see what I can do. Who’s this you’ve brought with you?”
He claps a firm hand upon the young woman’s shoulder. “This is Azami Bargas, the daughter of my eldest brother, and my new successor. Azami will be fully taking over by spring.”
“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Azami.”
She bows her head quick and low. “Likewise, Your Majesty.”
I’m surprised to find there are other faces here I don’t recognize. While most watch me with intrigue, Mornute’s new adviser steeples their fingers on the marble table, then taps anxious patterns upon it. With each tap of their fingers, tiny constellations dance around their lacquered black nails. When they catch me looking, they jolt to attention.
“Leo Gavel, Your Majesty!” Leo’s face is pleasantly youthful, with full peachy cheeks sprinkled with freckles enchanted to look like stars. Physically, Leo is small and plump, with striking features that give me a tinge of jealousy for all those able to practice enchantment magic. They’ve piercing yellow eyes and matching buzzed hair, and wear a lavender pantsuit with winged liner in a similar shade around their eyes. “We haven’t been able to meet since Mornute’s previous adviser was killed during the attack, but I assure you that I’m well trained. I look forward to working together.”
“As do I.” But my words are forced as my thoughts linger on the night of the attack, wondering how many people I let die. Because I couldn’t kill Kaven the first time he and I fought on Zudoh, how much blood am I responsible for spilling?
There’s yet another new face—the adviser representing Curmana, the island of mind magic, judging from his loose onyx pants and shimmering cape.
“I’m Elias Freebourne, and I’ll be filling in for my sister, who went into labor the morning we were loading the ship to journey here. I look forward to serving you, Your Majesty.” There’s a glint in his striking green eyes that warms my skin. I turn quickly away.
“This meeting is to discuss the unification of Visidia,” I tell them. “I’d like to focus on our restoration efforts with Zudoh and Kerost. While relations with the former are going as well as we can expect, we need to figure out a way to restore Kerost’s trust in us before they secede from the kingdom.” We let them suffer from the storms for far too long. We ignored them as a time trader profited off their pain and stole years of their lives. If we want to make it up to them, we’re going to have our work cut out for us.