Fabian squeezed my hand in return and offered a frail smile. “I wouldn’t last a day without you.”
“No, you wouldn’t,” I said playfully, and reached for a shrimp. “Oh, that’s divine. I think just a bit more cumin, don’t you? And seeing it now, I’d prefer the gold glass plates to the blue ones.”
“How do you focus on these things?” Fabian asked, shaking his head. “I can’t seem to concentrate on anything constructive. Sometimes I sit in the study for hours, wondering how everything went so wrong and whether it could happen again.”
A cool breeze rushed over us, tugging at the table linens and streaming my raven hair over my face. “Nissera has to move on,” I said, looking over the jewel-blue sea. “It has to heal. We’re the leaders now. We’re the ones who have to stitch everything together with smiles on our faces, no matter what challenges arise.”
I resituated my wind-tossed skirt, and the corners of the folded letter pressed against my skin. “Speaking of challenges,” I continued. “I received a letter from Rayed. It contains less-than-ideal news.”
“When did you start phrasing everything so diplomatically?”
“When I was crowned queen and had no choice.”
“Fair enough,” he said, popping a shrimp into his mouth. “What’s the matter?”
“Our alliance with Erdem is under strain. They look at us and see unmitigated disasters, young and inexperienced leaders. If we don’t start thinking like your mother and father, we could lose the favor of Perispos too. The economic crisis Ambrosine and Mathis Lorenthi caused will be nothing compared to losing trade partners.”
My tone intensified toward the end. The lenience the Realm Alliance showed Glisette’s sister and uncle had agitated me from the start. A prescient regret had haunted me during their hearings. But I let the others sentence them without speaking up. I stayed silent because Rayed had also made grave errors, which we had informally pardoned. His intentions were far more innocent, and anyone with half a heart could understand why Rayed helped the Calgoranian traitors—they had threatened my life if he refused.
But one could also argue that Ambrosine and Mathis didn’t mean to cause any harm. In fact, they had argued that for themselves quite deftly. The pursuit of justice so easily became a slick slope into a valley of moral ambiguity.
Thunderclouds passed through Fabian’s eyes. “So King Agmur does not respect us.”
“He respects you. He says your claim to Yorth’s throne is the only inarguable one.”
“It’s insulting,” he said, though he looked a tad relieved. “He should know better than to disregard elicromancers. Does he not know what we can do if our relations sour? Does he not fear us?”
“Oh, Fabian,” I sighed, molding my hand to his cheek. “After what we’ve endured, can’t you concede that no elicromancer is invincible?”
“Even Valory?” he asked.
I swallowed hard and broke our gazes. “Probably even her. Regardless, the Realm Alliance cannot antagonize mortals, even mortals who insult us. We need to repair the relationship as best we can. Promise me you won’t do anything rash until we’ve spoken with the others?”
He hesitated before nodding. I knew he wouldn’t lie to me. “I promise.”
Excusing myself, I went inside, crossed the pearlescent and bronze tiles of the banquet hall, and journeyed upstairs to my suite, adjacent to Fabian’s for appearance’s sake. It was large and resplendent, with embroidered silk cushions, sheer fabric dividers, and pierced metal lanterns reminiscent of typical Erdemese décor.
I glanced to make sure Falima wasn’t there before I approached the jewelry case on my vanity, opened the bottom drawer, and removed the wooden slat concealing a silk-lined compartment.
My violet-and-blue elicrin stone winked at me from its hiding spot.
Withdrawing the crystal-like gem by its gold chain, I stuffed the letter from Rayed in its place. Fabian could never learn about the king of Erdem’s invitation.
I didn’t used to have so many secrets. Just one, which I had never guarded closely. Fabian and I were content to let people see what they wished when they looked at us. Some saw a happy couple in love, yet others surely saw a royal man-boy chasing skirts while his wife suffered in silence. Some believed we were simply willing to share our intense romantic love with others. And some knew the truth: we were friends who had struck a beneficial bargain.
Our union was an act of diplomacy. The engagement had pleased his parents, and I didn’t mind Fabian’s dalliances with beautiful girls so long as they didn’t jeopardize my status. I would be able to assist my people as queen, and Fabian would not force me to perform any duties I did not wish to. We were each other’s shields from excessive scrutiny, from people trying to dictate our lives and futures. It wasn’t so much a secret or a lie as an innocent omission of the truth.
But this—accepting an elicrin stone from Valory—was a secret. A heavy one, which I both feared and relished.
Immortality. Status. Equality. That was what she had given me. She was now the steward of elicrin gifts, and she had confiscated this stone from an elicromancer who had abused her power.
At first, I had rejected the stone. If she turned one mortal into an elicromancer, where would it stop? How many more mortals would come to her begging for power and eternal life?
But Valory had insisted it was a simple, small gift: the gift of perfect marksmanship. Compared to others, it was trivial, and she had jested that my marksmanship was near perfect anyway.
We both knew that the gift would make some things easier and others more complicated. And for that reason, I could not publicize my possession of it yet.
The elicrin stone was slender, nearly cylindrical, and easier to hide than most. And Valory had taught me a concealing spell, though I wasn’t yet comfortable using it.
I slipped on the chain and tucked the powerful jewel into my bodice, sheltering its warmth against my skin.
THREE
GLISETTE
THE BRAZOR MOUNTAINS
THE mountain air tasted of freedom, and the sharp-sweet aroma of pine needles and snow. A chilling breeze snaked up my sleeves and made me shiver with delight.
When I opened my eyes after materializing from the palace, the late-morning sky over the Brazor Mountains was a canvas of periwinkle and ruby red, streaked with feather-thin clouds. I stood upon a ridge overlooking the vast fortress city of Darmeska, and the iron-and-glass monstrosity of a tower that loomed over it: the Moth King’s lair.
It was an obscene imprint that a now-deceased oppressor had inflicted upon a graceful landscape—a reminder that one could overthrow evil, yet still reside in its shadow.
I filled my lungs with the crisp wind and trod through the thawing spring snows toward a ledge. Settling down, I dangled my legs over the yawning chasm below. The danger of it made my blood course like a wild river through my veins, made me feel alive.
But it wasn’t the only reason I came here. A strange sense of loss had lately carved out a pit between my ribs, and I’d found myself thinking wistfully of my adventures with Valory, Kadri, and Mercer. Before Devorian had unleashed the dormant tyrant on Nissera, I had hardly cared about anything besides my siblings and the luxuries we enjoyed as royalty.