ELLIA:
The journey to Akadia took forever to begin. I spent the morning looking for and listening for signs of Rabaus, but to no avail. He was not in our fair-sized procession; beginning with chariots of spoils and ending in large cages of scorpios. Scores of captives were led between these, but I was not among them. I walked at the front beside my horse, my hands tied to a rope that connected at its saddle. At first I’d been allowed to ride it—until the third time I’d tried to steer away from Cyric, then he’d forced me off the horse and had linked it to his.
His horse was… unusual. I thought it was the same one I’d seen in the battle at Karatel, and I’d seen others like it since. Black hair, armored faces. Only it didn’t wear armor now, and this revealed a pattern underneath of silver, shaped like a horse’s skull. Its eyes were completely pitch black. From my close position, I could see smoke flowing around the horse’s hooves and in its wake.
“Is it a granted animal?” I asked: to no one apparently, because Cyric didn’t acknowledge me. He kept his gaze ahead, his body perfectly erect in the saddle. Only a few soldiers trailed ahead of him, and that had been at his permission.
I scoffed annoyance.
The horse turned its head to me, strangely cocking its ear. Cyric took notice then, glancing down and tightening his grip on his reigns. When he saw that it was me that had drawn the horse’s attention, he darkened and spurred it on. I almost tripped at the sudden increase of speed.
“I asked if he was a granted animal?” I repeated.
“What?” Cyric sounded actually confused, but still incredulous.
“Your horse. It’s obviously magical. Is it a granted species? A country Lox destroyed maybe?”
Cyric snorted, but said nothing.
“I suppose you intend to ignore everything I say.”
“You want to be friends?”
“Never!”
“Good.”
The horse whinnied beneath him. I turned my attention to the space around me; anywhere but Cyric. The land was plains, and plains, and more plains. The city of Karatel was well out of sight. I could barely make out some of the captives behind a cluster of soldier-bearing horses. There were obviously captives of every eastern race, and a fair number from Karatel as well. I heard a laugh and my eyes refocused on a soldier, mounted nearby and pointing between Cyric and I.
When he saw me watching, he hesitated, and then he bowed his head. I nearly tripped at the shock of it; once the length of rope tied to my hands caught up to me I did trip. My horse halted, then Cyric’s. He sighed exasperatedly before he’d even realized that I’d been the one to cause the hold, then he just looked viciously angry.
While I rose to my feet—with some trouble having no hands—the others moved past us.
“Get back on the horse,” Cyric instructed tersely.
With a scowl I moved towards it, my sore heels grateful—until I realized that that would be obeying Cyric. I stopped beside the horse.
“Did you hear me? I told you to get on.”
I averted my gaze. Some of the soldiers were looking in our direction. I couldn’t help but notice Cyric glance back to consider them when his name was mentioned. He swore. Someone laughed.
He jumped down from his horse, his boots crushing grass to ruin. He reached for my rope. I pulled my hands away, but then his horse made a sound and in the distraction he grabbed my waist, two hands on either side, shocking me so that my body went limp instead of defiant. He sat me up onto my horse, then untied my hands. My heart started beating faster. I didn’t even think to resist as he pulled my arms forward, and the next thing I knew my hands were tied together and to the saddle. He turned back to his horse without a word, mounted it, and led us back to our position at the front; this time he went out ahead of everyone, and yards beyond.
My stomach was a knot. I could still feel where he’d touched me on my stomach like icy points. I wanted to sink against the horse, or into the ground.
I repeated all the evil things he’d done over and over in my mind. I thought of all the people Akadia had hurt. I thought of Ceras, digging his nails into the sand, and finally then hate began to drown out everything else.
#
We reached Akadia the next day, in the late afternoon. Cyric had driven the lot of us on with barely four hours rest, and no proper camp. From the moment the red rock appeared, till I was being paraded through the golden streets of glistening buildings, everything seemed distant and blurred. The many torches, the sounds of cheering, the tokens being cast towards the soldiers. I’m sure I didn’t want to see it all. Cyric’s countenance remained as somber as ever, until we reached the foot of the palace, where a woman in a vibrant blue dress waved to him. She was by no means the first to do so, but he immediately jumped down from his horse, abandoning me and the rest of his charge to go to her. My stomach contorted when he took her hands in his, then he spun her in a circle, obviously appreciating her dress. She was something far beyond striking. Her hair was dark, and full, tied back into a clean loop. Her skin was a perfect contrast of olive-red; it glowed against her dress, and with many points of opportunity.
A palace guard approached Cyric amidst his smiling and playing. Lingering onto one of the woman’s hands, he spoke seriously with the guard, gesturing back to our procession more than once. The cheering Akadians had lessened since we’d entered the palace district, except for the many handmaidens which were absorbing the soldiers’ attention. My focus was returning to me in the worst way, the glowing torches against the cool dusk of the dessert. Gold everywhere, mosaics, gems, luxurious clothing, rich colors.
I forced myself to scoff away my tears as the palace guard went inside to speak with another soldier. Cyric turned to the woman again, this time whispering in her ear. I looked around me and realized I was only tied down by two horses, mine and Cyric’s—for all that this mattered now that I was inside Akadia. For the first time I noticed Cyric’s dark horse really looking at me. Where his eyes were all black before, I thought now I saw faint silver. I narrowed, then Cyric reappeared, pulling at my horse’s reign.
“Get down,” he told me. I realized the other soldiers were dismounting as well, and heading back into the procession to collect captives and spoils. I also noticed that the beautiful woman in blue had disappeared. She was no longer even where she had been by the fountain.
So she had been waiting for him after all.
“I can’t,” I said; it sounded more like a sullen complaint.
Cyric’s gaze lifted to me, where before he had been distractedly pulling papers from a pack on his horse’s saddle. I tugged at my arms, hardly believing he could have forgotten what he’d done himself and more than once, but he must have, because he sent off a fresh wave of annoyance, then reached to untie my hands. Once he had, he led his horse off to the side of the street, shouting orders at a nearby soldier.
He came back, obviously expecting me to have dismounted. His eyes landed on me, full of distaste, not the way he’d been looking at the other woman, nothing like that.
I dropped down and he immediately passed the reigns of my horse to another soldier. I saw that his was already being led back down the road.
“Where are we going?” I asked, mostly out of fear; but he paid me no attention. I hugged my arms, which my newest dress left bare at the shoulders. Other soldiers led captives and trunks into the front of the palace. I had half a mind to think tribute was about to be paid to the king, but Cyric stayed waiting and watching the others. Then, the woman in blue reappeared across the way. I realized now that she was taller than me as well as much more shapely. Cyric waved to her and she came close.
“Here you are,” she said, handing him a velvet drawstring bag, about the size of a fist.
He glanced inside of it, then thanked her.
“Is this her?” she asked, her gaze shifting to me. Her eyes were bright with an interest that was almost captivating, even to me. She spoke with a subtle accent which only told me she was just as much a traitor to her country as Cyric.
Cyric looked back at me with her question, his eyes grazing me up and down, as if he had just realized I existed and hadn’t been riding beside me, looking just as I did now, for days. “Yes,” he answered, turning back to her. He adapted a smile then, and moved closer to her. “After I’m done here, I’ll come to find you.”
Surprise registered on her features, but she grew a matching grin. “With all of this to present, that might be a while.”
“Are you going to watch?” he asked.
She shrugged. “A little. Until I get bored.”
“I wish I had that luxury,” he complained.
She laughed and flicked a finger at his papers. Her eyes found mine again before she turned. All I could define about them was that they were difficult to hold with confidence. Cyric checked again inside the bag she’d given him, then he nodded back to me and tipped his head towards the palace.
I hesitated.
“Shall I call for soldiers?” he asked.
I thought of being dragged before King Molec, who I’d never met, in comparison with walking behind Cyric. I also thought of Lox, declaring before everyone in his hall that I was the princess of Shaundakul. And they hadn’t questioned it—to be bowed to by a passing soldier had confirmed that. But even if the soldiers took Lox on his word, I had doubts that a king would accept me without proof. It hadn’t been so in Yanartas. I certainly wasn’t acknowledged in the eastern kingdoms. There was a good chance that Lox was going to end up looking the fool here, and I had no qualms about helping that along.
I shook my head curtly. Cyric behaved as if he hadn’t needed the response to go on. He ascended steps, past pillars in practiced form, passing the rows of tributes. Inside, surrounded by glassy floors and carved stone walls of vibrant color, a wide staircase led up a story, then divided into two directions, but on either side of the steps, they were heavy doors, now opened. Cyric walked towards these. He stopped at the entrance, turned back and gave directions to a nearby soldier. I was just wondering what they were (all these orders he gave) when I felt two hands grab my wrists. The guard he’d spoken with pulled me back from the door, then held me beside a pillar. Cyric had obviously been the cause of it, for he didn’t respond at all to my cries for help; then he disappeared into the bright chamber beyond.
I gave up struggling after only a few seconds, by now exhausted with the pointless effort. Before long, groups began to enter the room Cyric had, captives or spoils from the procession I had travelled with. One after another, after another. The soldier guarding me gave up holding me at some point and tied me to a pillar instead.
It must have been hours later, and the only thing besides me that hadn’t been taken into the next room were the scorpios because they’d been dropped off in another district entirely.
A guard appeared in the doorway, no one familiar to me, but his gaze showed surprise when he saw me, or maybe something else that I couldn’t identify. He cleared his throat, and told the soldier to have me untied.
Once I was free, he said that I should follow him inside. It sounded more like a question than an order. I couldn’t bring myself to reply, but with hopes of Lox’s embarrassment prodding me onwards, I gestured consent.
He bowed, which gave me daunting, then walked through the door. The entire chamber beyond was utterly silent. It was a large room, clearly the throne-room, which I’d suspected. The floor was sparkling marble. The ceilings high, with golden rafters. And large, golden pillars lined the floor on either side, leading up to the throne. Almost every inch of the chamber was full; with captives, or Akadians, loot, soldiers, or councilmen, but no one spoke a word. The steps of myself and the soldier leading me were the loudest, and all eyes followed us in. He stopped within seconds, then he gestured me forwards.
There was only one clear path, leading up to the head of the chamber and the throne. Standing to one side of it was Cyric, his rugged look of a warrior contrasting the room and those nearest him. There were two thrones, both occupied. One holding a man with reddish-brown hair and one a woman in an exuberant dress.
I couldn’t imagine how, but it wasn’t until this moment, seeing Molec, that I remembered he was the father of my late friend, Tobias, and my Yanartian trainer, Lucian.
In my hesitation, whispers surged around the hall. Cyric’s eyes beckoned me more than anything. I walked forward, trying not to hold my head too high so as to reinforce Lox’s claim, but finding it difficult not to in the situation. The gown, and the hall, the royalty, lords and ladies; all reminded me too much of my true identity.
I walked past Cyric, his eyes following me the whole way. Then I told myself to bow, as a princess of a betrayed allying kingdom would not—but I couldn’t because even if they didn’t find out I was the princess, they knew I was a Cirali Warrior. And a Cirali Warrior would not bow before such a king.
I met his eyes square on, easily seeing Tobias and Lucian within them. And then I heard gasps.
#
The gasps came from all directions. The king’s features went wide in shock, even the queen’s. I didn’t know what had happened. I turned around—
And Cyric was standing right behind me, his expression smug, though as I narrowed in confusion his features showed something else: Distance, then darkness and warmth both at once. I couldn’t explain why, but it made me touch the top of my head. Almost as I’d expected I felt a crown. I pulled it away and saw bright, shining turquoise. I could hardly believe that I was seeing it; my crown. I’d thought after I’d dropped it in my fall from the temple that I’d lost it forever. With this in my possession, I could prove myself. Any of the eastern kingdoms would believe. I felt a wave of relief, then a wave of disappointment.
I turned around to see the king was standing. “You truly are the princess of Shaundakul,” he exclaimed.
So, Cyric had already spoken all and explained all; he’d only needed to prove that I would cause the jewel to appear on my crown. Which he had. I felt my fists tighten.
“How can I be princess of Shaundakul?” I seethed. “When you destroyed that country?”
“Careful princess,” I heard whispered behind me. Whether he was serious or teasing,
I couldn’t tell, I dismissed his voice.
The king smiled and clapped once; his delight seeming genuine. “What happened in Uldin Keep was an unfortunate occurrence, albeit necessary, but for the first time its sting has been greatly eased. Daughter of Solidor, you are most welcome in Akadia.”
His words snapped my memory to Tobias’s death. Lox had said something similar, and he’d repeated it to me in my nightmares: Daughter of Solidor. Daughter of Solidor, indeed.
“Lox has truly won a great prize this time,” Molec murmured. Others about the room nodded in agreement. Before I could speak in argument Cyric stepped past me.
“He has, and in appreciation of his tributes… in recognition of his success and in order to grant you many more, he asks that you approve his request to produce his new weapon here in Akadian.” After giving the king a moment to absorb this, Cyric went on. “The one used to such effect in the battle of Selket, where the princess was won.”
“What?” I demanded, interrupting the king’s response; if he was going to give one. I turned on Cyric. “You can’t mean the weapons that were used against the chimera?”
Cyric’s gaze flicked from me to the king. “The Princess Ellia witnessed them herself. She might be able to describe to us how well they worked.”
I felt my blood boil, but I wouldn’t take this opportunity to hit him; it was too important that I deter Molec.
“King Molec,” I interrupted, turning to him. “I can assure you, having witnessed it myself, that this machine is a monstrosity. You cannot allow more to be made.”
“She says that because she’s been too long in Yanartas. She’s grown deep and perhaps undo affection for the chimera. She forgets that they are our enemies.” Cyric still didn’t meet my gaze, and he was fortunate. Molec frowned.
“That’s right. You’ve become a Warrior yourself, haven’t you?”
I clutched my crown. “Yes, but I have never fought your people without cause: Either because they were unjustly attacking another kingdom, or in self-defense. None of the Warriors have.”
Molec met my eyes carefully, measuring me in a way that helplessly reminded me of Tobias the first time we’d met. “If that’s just behavior in your opinion, wouldn’t it be acceptable to build these weapons that can kill chimera? For our own self-defense.”
“The Warriors would never attack a granted animal!”
“Tell that to the Wyverns,” Cyric remarked.
The nearest in the chamber laughed, and it rolled on and grew throughout the whole hall—even coming from those who couldn’t have heard Cyric. It seemed enough for these people to laugh simply because he’d meant for them too.
Molec took a step closer to me. “Princess Ellia, I can see that you are in great distress. Such matters as these weapons can wait in light of your presence. As the king, and ally to your father, I desire us to speak more of how we may make things right between us.” He scoffed, gesturing around the room, then speaking softly. “Perhaps a less crowded venue.”
“You won’t make the weapons?” I asked with surprise—and excitement. I spared a victorious glance at Cyric, but he was looking with thinly-veiled distaste at Molec.
Molec waved a hand. “As I said, it can all be dealt with at a later time. Lieutenant Dracla and I will work out the details. I’m sure that would be acceptable to Lox, Cyric?” It was strange to hear the king address Cyric by name. While I expected it for myself, it wasn’t as if Cyric were royalty. Akadia truly did think highly of its soldiers if a king was so informal with a lieutenant.
Molec and Cyric shared a long glance. Finally Cyric nodded.
Molec turned to me. “Is this acceptable to you, Princess?”
I didn’t understand why Molec seemed so interested in appeasing me. Was it possible that he didn’t know what had really happened in Akadia? Why else would he order my father killed, but then befriend me? Then again, I wondered that very same thing about Lox. Not that Lox was befriending me, of course he wasn’t, but he had allowed me to live.
“So long as the chimera weapons don’t get built, I am very pleased,” I said. I could hardly believe I’d been able to have such a positive effect already. If my presence in Akadia kept these weapons from being built, if only that, it felt worth the pain of being separated from Luffie.
Molec nodded understanding, then he waved a hand and a band of minstrels struck their instruments and began to play gentle music that filled the hall. “Now that that’s settled,” he said, going back to sit on his throne, “we can move on to your presence here, Princess. Since you might be in Akadia, well, indefinitely, you’ll need arrangements. I expect you to take quarters in the palace. Nothing less for the daughter of my old ally.”
“Actually, my King?” Cyric broke in, his tone anything but reverent. He stepped up beside me, so that our shoulders were touching. “Lox has already put the princess under my care. You won’t have to bother with her arrangements. She will stay with me.”
Molec’s gaze lifted in surprise. Then his eyes went dark, even angry, until the queen drew his attention with a hand to his arm. “You will remember, Molec, that Lieutenant Dracla is one of our most honored war heroes, the man responsible for the discovery of Karatel’s betrayal, and a Shaundakulian himself.”
While the King frowned unhappily, I looked to Cyric with confusion.
Because he stood just beside me, I could only see his profile and it revealed no expression. The man responsible for the discovery of Karatel’s betrayal? What did that mean? It was the Akadians who had betrayed Karatel, never the other way around.
Molec drew my attention with a scathing tone. “Lox is bold to allot a princess as tribute without my consent.”
Cyric didn’t say a word. The music of the hall now sounded only awkward. Molec considered me for a long moment, his demeanor growing all the more annoyed and anxious. Finally he waved a hand. “Don’t expect that you will be allowed to take her outside the city walls.”
“Of course not, the battlefield is no place for a princess,” Cyric said.
Molec mumbled agreement.
“And I expect her in the dining hall when it’s open to the court.”
Cyric bowed understanding, then he took my hand. It was a sinister method he used, first touching my wrist lightly, then sliding his fingers downwards and tightening his grip. The hall responded with murmurs. I felt my chest rising, but hardly knew how to react. Molec appeared more irritated than ever.
“If you’ll permit, the princess has travelled far and must be tired,” Cyric said. “I’ll take her to retire.”
My cheeks got hot. I thought to worm my hand away from Cyric, instead I simply addressed the king. “You said that you would like to speak of my father and our alliance. I am not too tired to discuss this with you.”
Molec blinked lazily, his eyes falling on Cyric’s hand, then the spoils collected behind us. “The Lieutenant is right. You should rest. I’ll call for you when I’d like to speak of Shaundakul.”
I pulled away. “But—”
“Think for a moment, princess,” Cyric said, not a whisper, but only loud enough that I would hear. “Molec doesn’t want to talk about your country. As soon as he realized you belonged to me, he lost interest in you.”
“I do not belong to you,” I hissed, despite myself; I’d meant to ignore him.
“Alright, take your chances then. I’ve seen enough ladies pass through his favor to realize that they survive in well enough health. Their reputations don’t fare as well, but this probably doesn’t concern you.”
My throat locked up and I thought of Amalia. Amalia, who had come to the court of Akadia a Cirali Warrior, had been lured by Molec, had born his children—despite Molec’s queen—and had finally, inevitably been cast aside. This King, who let his son be murdered in his own city and then allowed the man responsible to go free. Whether Cyric knew of all of this or not, I did not know, and on the matter of trusting Cyric’s advice, I did not, but I recognized that this king would not help me. At least not tonight, when his gaze was so greedily upon his newest spoils.
I did not envy the queen. I did not envy the captives. I dropped my head and let Cyric take my hand once more. He said goodbyes to the court on my behalf, then led me outside.
CYRIC:
As soon as we were clear of the palace walls, I released Ellia’s hand. The fresh air did wonders for me. I called for the nearest guard, stationed outside one of the barracks. I could see him thanks to the torches all around us. I hadn’t realized until I’d gotten back into the city how much I’d missed the lights, always being able to see. Karatel’s capitol wasn’t nearly so bright, and while I was away in the eastern kingdoms, I had to rely on my hearing completely most nights.
“Yes Lieutenant,” the guard said, bowing. He was a soldier I’d trained, capable enough. He averted wide eyes from Ellia, obviously having heard of her identity. As if the crown wasn’t glaring enough.
“Escort the princess to my quarters,” I instructed. “Have something sent for her to eat. Then leave her be.”
The soldier’s features registered surprise, but I didn’t wait around for him to consent.
I started walking, past the pair, until Ellia called out to me.
“Cyric, wait,” she fumbled, her voice full of distress.
I thought it was the first time she’d said my name. I thought that was a stupid thing to notice. I glanced back. I could see her eyes as brightly as the torches, brighter than her crown.
She spared a nervous look at the soldier. “Where are you going?” she asked.
What an idiot. Why was she asking me this—and like that? I addressed the soldier. “You have my permission to use whatever measures you need if she resists.”
With that I turned from the two.
#
Molec would begin production on Lox’s new weapon, he’d made that clear enough in the throne-room. Not that he’d really had much of a choice. The council had been greatly pleased by the news that the dreaded chimera could now be defeated without wyverns, not to mention pulled in by the spoils.
Though I was glad to be able to assist Lox in his newest endeavor, I felt indifference to it. I still didn’t know how the weapons worked. I didn’t need to know, I was strong enough on my own in battle without needing something to fight for me. Lox could issue out his inventions to his weaker soldiers, and leave the real warring to me.
I took the path to Lox’s building, not having to think about the way it was so familiar. When I knocked on the door, Veera answered it herself.
“You thought it would be Thane,” she said at my skeptic expression. Thane was one of Lox’s servants, and he generally watched over Veera while Lox was away. She opened the door further so that I could enter, then closed it behind me. “I sent him away so you could tell me all that’s happened in the other countries without his spying.”
“Doesn’t Lox tell him everything anyways?”
“Thane?” She scoffed. “He’d like to think so.”
I smirked. Veera matched it, then she bobbed her head towards the center of the room, where trays of food and wine were set out in front of couches. Lox’s main area was two stories high, with a staircase and balcony circling it and a number of colored glass lights—though whenever Veera was left here alone, she brightened the space with enough torches to make it seem like daylight.
“Just a minute, I have to grab something from upstairs,” I said.
“Don’t be long.” She tip-toed to the couch, her bare-feet springing her lightly along.
If nothing else, she was fun to look at; I was glad I’d come here first.
I ascended the staircase, then entered Lox’s room. It was just as brightly lit as the downstairs. I crossed it, then pulled a set of keys from my pocket. My fingers grazed Ellia’s stone as I did so, and I made a note not to return the keys where I might be forced to touch the thing again. I turned my attention to Lox’s desk; one of the keys slipped easily into his lowest and largest drawer.
The first thing I saw was a drawing of a dragon, reminding me what Lox had said about Ellia’s presence making it all the more important for me to look into this for him. The next few papers were star-maps, the type I’d seen too many of in my lifetime. Back in Uldin Keep, they’d decorated tapestries, plates, armor, even the walls of the washrooms. I bypassed these and the rest of the messy stack to find a small parcel, filled with papers and sealed shut. I set it aside and returned everything else to the drawer, catching sight of only one more sketch, a tiger, before closing the drawer and locking it shut.
I found Veera sitting on the couch and braiding her hair when I returned, not the whole thing, just the front, in small tight loops that she generally just as quickly unwound. Sure enough she released her hair when she saw me. I held the package at my side.
“So that’s what Malatos has you doing?” she said. “His assistant brought that to him ages ago, but he never opened it. I thought he’d given up on the whole venture.”
“You already know about it?” I asked. Now that I had no concerns about hiding the package from her, I set it out on the table, then I sank into the couch, grabbing a handful of grapes.
“I know what he means to find. But whether it proves a true myth, I’m not sure. He’s chased enough of them before in the past. Did you know that when he was young, he wanted to be an explorer?”
I raised a brow.
“I heard about it from some of the councilmen, they say he went down into the caves from the time he was a child. And even you must have heard the rumor that he’s been to the Mountains of Lotos.”
“You’ve never asked him?”
She shook her head. “He gets vexed with me when I question him about his past.” She shrugged her shoulders indifferently.
I untied my sword and set it aside to make myself more comfortable. And as I did, I didn’t know why, I thought of the handmaiden leaving Lox’s room and laughing, not just the most recent time but other times too. I just as quickly pushed it from my mind.
“Well go on then,” Veera said, “You’re too quiet. Tell me what’s happening in the war.”
I smirked ruefully at her, but did as she said.
“We’re doing well. The Wyverns are stuck in Ghaund for now, but at least that’s been allowing us to track down their hidden settlements. Goblins die by the hundreds, not that it matters, they seem to respawn just as quickly. It was going poorly in Selket, but Lox is convinced that will change. We’ve captured a few scorpios; he wants to try and train them.”
“I saw them in the stock district,” she commented.
“Of course things in Democedes were fine until Venoc stopped checking his decisions with Lox. We’ve still got them on the defensive though.”
“I saw Scanth before he left yesterday—did you pass him on the plains?”
I shook my head. “He probably stopped in one of the cities. We rode straight through.”
“You were in such a hurry to get home?” she asked, then laughed. “I thought you were a bit more enthusiastic than usual when you saw me.”
I thought back to greeting her beside the fountain. I had been truly glad to see her, maybe that was the only reason I’d made such a show of our meeting. Maybe not. I poured a drink and drank it slowly.
“Don’t you prefer to be fighting?” she asked.
“Of course.”
“Has something else excited your interest then?” she said. “I watched you in the throne-room with Molec.”
I didn’t want to think about that again. It felt complicated for no reason. The entire experience, albeit boring, should have been enjoyable. I’d more or less forced the king into behaving just how I’d wanted him to, and I’d been envied, even by Molec. I knew how it felt now for Lox to have Veera; maybe even more so. Nothing about it should have bothered me; I told myself nothing had.
“You knew the princess of Shaundakul before you came to Akadia, didn’t you?” Veera asked, rocking me out of my reverie. I narrowed.
“Why would you think that?”
She laughed a little. “Malatos told me what happened in the temple, the first time he discovered her. It was you that told him, wasn’t it? That’s why you had her crown?”
“A lot of people knew Ellia. I’d just been in charge of watching her the day of the battle.”
“Oh,” Veera said, reigning back a little, but I could feel her gaze on me even though I wasn’t looking at her; studying, forming an opinion. “Malatos thought she was dead,” she said, matter of factly.
“She should have been. She fell from hundreds of feet. She has some freakish power that kept her alive.”
“What’s to stop her from using it again?” Veera asked. The way she did made me wonder if she hadn’t thought of this question before now. Lox must have told Veera even about Ellia’s powers.
I reached into my pocket and pulled out Ellia’s stone, then tossed it carelessly to Veera. She caught it in her hands. “A dispel stone,” she said. She held it up between two fingers, into the light, and, again, I thought she’d already guessed this much. Even from my seat I could see the colors swirling within the stone; like smoke, gold and amber, copper, flecks of brass.
Veera grew a wicked grin. “I suppose if I broke it Malatos would be angry with me.”
I snorted. “For some reason he wants it to stay with her. If you think of why, as you probably will, you could tell me.”
Veera let the stone fall. “Lovers must never share their secrets, Cyric,” she chided. It sounded like one of the many sage anecdotes from her country which she often quoted to me. “You’ll have to keep it with you, then?” she asked.
I nodded grudgingly. “Lox seems to think she’d kill anyone else to get it?”
Veera hid it in her hand. “Well, in that case you can’t keep carrying it around in your pocket. Think of when you start training again. It’s liable to get crushed.”
“That would require someone being able to hit me.”
“What about when you’re running the courses? You don’t want to end up having the powers for yourself, do you?”
I grimaced at the thought, but like I’d said, I wasn’t worried. With a yawn, I stretched my legs out and leaned back into the couch, basking in the torch-light and warmth.
“You look as if you plan to sleep there,” Veera said.
I’d closed my eyes. “Would you mind if I did?”
“I might find it curious, but I wouldn’t mind.”
I felt her scrutinizing gaze on me once more, I grew a smile. “You overthink things sometimes, Veera.”
Her reply came, clear but distant. “You, Cyric Dracla, do not think things through enough.”