“Are you sure this is the only way, your Majesty?” The intensity of Ara’s gaze was blinding.
Over the past few days, Etta had come to appreciate the quiet company of the General. She’d grown up as the bastard daughter of a duke–his only child with magic. Even with an accepting man like Duke Caron, that wouldn’t have been an easy life in Gaule.
Discrimination based on magic was not allowed on Caron’s lands, but that didn’t mean it didn’t exist.
Which was why they were in that place on that day, hovering near the line where two ancient kingdoms met. They stood in the shadow of the mountains where La Dame lay waiting behind her walls.
Alex sent his best riders into every corner of the kingdom. Their message? Leave. Get your families to safety. It was time to erect the wards that once stood along the border. The difference being this time there’d be people other than Draconians on the other side.
The only way to protect both magic folk and non-magic folk alike was to keep them apart.
Etta studied the contrasting features of Ara’s face. A firm set jaw and high, harshly cut cheekbones, but a soft brow and round doe eyes with sadness echoed in each of them.
She didn’t get a chance to answer her before the duke strode toward them. He touched her back and led her away for a private conversation.
Etta let her eyes roam across into Bela and over the lush rolling hills stretching into the distance. After a moment, she turned on her heel and headed back to the row of tents.
They’d been there for days as the flow of magic folk across the border was never-ending.
Tomorrow, the deadline would pass. They’d set a date for the wards to be put in place. It was plastered across the kingdom. One day and then she’d use her magic to cut the land in half. In truth, it would be an invisible line. One who didn’t have magic would never sense it. But if magic ran in your blood, you’d be prevented from crossing by unbearable pain leeching the magic from your veins. For miles in each direction, a buzzing in the air told magic folk a ward was near, alerting them to the danger.
She didn’t want to do it. God, she wished it could be different.
But wishes were for people who didn’t have crowns on their heads.
She didn’t get the luxury of pretty fantasies.
Alex stood near the opening of his tent watching her. He looked kingly in his navy-blue doublet and embroidered jacket.
She shivered as a blast of cold air worked through camp. Winter had hit them in full force. In the mountains, the paths would be blocked, but that wouldn’t stop La Dame. Still, Etta was under no illusions that she’d come. She wouldn’t leave her walls behind. No, all La Dame had to do was wait. Etta had no choice but to go against her. The only question was when.
“Are you cold?” Alex asked.
How did one answer that? Yes, she was cold, but not only on the surface. Once she crafted the wards, she’d never again be able to return to Gaule. That fact alone turned her entire body to ice.
Alex reached for her and rubbed his hands down her arms. She leaned into his touch and met his eye as if he could give her the answers; pleading with him to tell her this wasn’t going to happen.
As she closed her eyes, she wrapped her arms around his waist and breathed him in. For once, she was able to keep the magic from tainting her emotions. They’d spent every night together in the past few weeks and some of the ire left her with each moment by his side.
Alex rested his chin on her hair.
“Why are we always leaving each other?” Her words were muffled by his shirt.
He hummed low in his throat and held her tighter. “You don’t have to do this.”
“Please don’t say that. If you… just don’t. I’m not strong enough to resist if you ask me to forget about this.”
He kissed the side of her head. “You’re the strongest person I know.”
She pushed away from him. “Don’t say that either.” She shoved her way into the tent and sat down on the bedroll in the corner.
Alex followed her and crossed his arms over his chest. “Why not?”
Her magic pulsed, trying to rise and expand. She managed to hold it back, but the anger it brought didn’t go away.
Alex’s voice softened as he repeated “Why not?”
The anger wasn’t hers. She knew that now. It was the power inside her. But it felt like she owned every inch of it.
“Because I don’t want to be strong,” she yelled. “I want to say ‘screw it’ and forget about every person that’s waiting for me back in Bela. I don’t want to dredge up my dead father’s magic and every memory that’ll come with it.” She covered her face as the anger slithered away. “I don’t want to leave you.” Tears slid between her fingers as her back shook.
He knelt down in front of her and pried her hands away from her face before leaning in to press his lips against hers. She’d never get used to kissing him. To running her hands across his firm chest and up under the edges of his shirt.
“Tonight,” he breathed, leaning his forehead against hers. “I’m not the king of Gaule and you’re not the queen of Bela. Just for tonight can we pretend we have the entire future spread out before us?”
She wound her arms up around his neck, her fingers sinking into the back of his thick hair. “Kiss me please.”
He smirked. “Since you asked so nicely.”
She forced away the dark emotions swirling in the depths of her magic. It would not control her. Not tonight.
The power didn’t make her who she was. Etta was crafted by memories of her father, her love for Alex, and the determination of a warrior.
Alex’s hands worked to untwist her braid as he laid her back. “I would touch your hair for the rest of my life.”
Tears stung her eyes, and she blinked them back as she pulled Alex down on top of her and got lost in everything she’d never have again.
Alex laughed as Etta played with the tiny hairs on his chest. “That tickles.”
She raised her head to look at him and her heart stopped. He’d always been beautiful, but never so much as when he was… unmade. His dark hair stuck up in every direction and his lips were swollen with the memory of every kiss.
“What would you do if you weren’t the king?” she asked, a wistful note in her voice.
He ran the tips of his fingers along the curve of her waist. A shiver raced through her, her every nerve on edge.
“I’ve never really considered it. I was raised to be king. There was never another option for me.”
She tucked her head into the crook of his neck.
“What about you?” he asked.
She shrugged. “I’m still getting used to the idea of being the queen. Remember, I grew up thinking I’d spend my life serving you.”
“As my shield.”
She laughed. “The person who would step in front of arrows—as you once said to me.”
“I did not!”
“Oh, you definitely did. You told me it was a ceremonial position, and you didn’t think I’d actually be protecting you.” She laughed. “I remember protecting you quite a few times.”
“Once.”
“If that’s what you want to believe.”
He was quiet for a moment. “I’d like to see something other than Gaule–if I didn’t have to be king, I mean. The Kings of Gaule used to travel abroad, but that was before we closed our country off. It’s not even safe for me to visit some more distant parts of my own kingdom. Most days, I only see the inside of the castle walls. As awful as my time with La Dame’s people was, it made me see that there is so much more than a throne and the life that demands.”
“Alex–” She sighed, not knowing what she wanted to say.
“I reinstated the council’s powers my father took away.” The words were so sudden she startled.
She leaned away from him and met his stare. “That’s—”
“I know. But it was the right thing to do. My father’s purge showed us what happens when one person has too much power. I don’t know who will wear the crown after me but I must safeguard the people the best way I know how. Everything I do is for them.”
He didn’t say it, but she knew what lay between his words. He’d agreed to her plans to put the wards back into place only because the Gaulean people were no match for the magic that was coming for them. They couldn’t face La Dame without being erased completely. Not without magic.
Etta was operating under a lot of assumptions. After her father created the original wards, La Dame stayed away from Gaule. She hoped it was the wards that deterred her. She’d never questioned the strength of her father’s magic, but if La Dame couldn’t break it, it was unbreakable.
“Just because you won’t be able to cross the wards doesn’t mean I can’t.” Light entered his gaze and for a moment, Etta wanted to give into the tiniest bit of hope in his voice. “I can still come to you.”
The hope fizzled out as his words sank in and she tucked her head back against his chest. “You know we can’t…”
“Etta, there is no way I’m ever going to agree to never seeing my best friend, my brother, and the woman I love ever again. You can just forget about it.”
She breathed in the scent of him, committing it to memory. If there are any of us left. It wasn’t the first time she’d considered the possibility of La Dame beating them. If it were up to her, Tyson would stay in Gaule. Even as she herded the Belaens across the border to bolster their numbers in the fight to come, she wanted her brother safe.
But he wouldn’t hear of it.
“Are you scared?” Alex asked as if sensing the direction of her thoughts.
Etta sat up and turned away from him, her magic coming alive beneath her skin. “No.” It was the truth. She didn’t fear La Dame. Not anymore. Not when the power of the Basiles coursed through her blood.
She reached for her trousers and pulled them on without bothering with her underclothes.
“Where are you going?” Alex reached for her.
“We can’t stay in bed all evening.”
“Why not?”
She slipped her tunic over her head and belted it at her waist before shrugging on a cloak. “Come on. Get dressed. I’m not the only person leaving for Bela tomorrow. There are a lot of goodbyes to be had.”
She left him to dress. Nearby, a fire roared to life. Their party sat huddled on blankets basking in its warmth.
Tyson held Amalie in his lap. They too would be torn apart. Amalie wanted to join them, but Tyson begged her not to. She was safer in Gaule. At least until after they faced La Dame.
Too many people had faith in Etta.
She joined Edmund and Ara who were having an intense conversation.
“Your father is probably right,” Edmund said. “You may very well die.”
Ara scoffed. “So could every single person across that border. Why the hell would I sit here and wait for you all to fight a war I have every right to be a part of?”
“Am I interrupting something?” Etta lowered herself down beside Edmund.
“Edmund doesn’t want any competition for the general of your army.” Ara shot him a scathing look.
“My army?” Etta raised a brow.
“All of these people crossing into Bela will have to fight for you.”
“I will not force anyone into this battle.”
Ara fixed her with a harsh glare. “Are you trying to lose?”
Edmund scowled. “Don’t speak to the queen that way.” He crossed his arms. “Only I’m allowed to.”
“Children,” Etta said, looking to each of them in turn. “Calm down. Ara, you’re joining us across the border?”
“Of course.”
“You do realize you won’t be able to cross back into Gaule once the wards are in place?”
Ara nodded.
“May I ask why you’re willing to leave your family behind when you live in the one part of Gaule where magic people are generally safe?”
Ara leaned forward, resting her elbows on her bent legs. “I’m a bastard. That’s not new information.”
Etta nodded. She’d heard the story.
“My mother was killed by men who hated magic—on my father’s land. There is nowhere in Gaule that is safe for us. At least in Bela, I’ll get the chance to fight for people who don’t want to stab me in the back like I’m sure most of my soldiers do.”
Ara’s brutal honesty was something Etta respected. “Then we’ll be glad to have you.”
Edmund grunted out a “sure.”
They fell quiet as the crackling of the fire overtook all other night sounds.
When Etta spoke again, her voice was hushed. “Hateful Gauleans killed my mother too.”
“Who would have thought a soldier would have something in common with a queen.”
Etta smiled at that. “I’m still just the girl whose only skills are magic and weapons.”
“With an ancient royal bloodline and the intense loyalty of even the Belaens who have yet to lay eyes on their queen.”
She snorted. “Yeah, and that.”
“Well, now you have my loyalty. My sword will be the truest in your army.”
Etta’s eyes flicked to Edmund for his reaction and he didn’t disappoint. A smirk appeared and challenge danced in his eyes. “We’ll see about that.”
Alex joined them, taking the seat next to his mother. Around that fire were the royal families of both Gaule and Bela. Etta wished her father could see them now. Would he be proud of her? He’d prepared her for sacrifice and here she was, making the greatest sacrifice of them all. It wasn’t her life—losing that might have been easier. This sacrifice was one of the heart.
But she wasn’t alone. They were all being separated from the people they loved because of something as fundamental to life as magic. Tyson was leaving his mother and Amalie. Ara would miss her father. Edmund had already left everything he’d ever known, just as each of the magic folk who were crossing the border.
This life had never been easy, but it had been theirs. What future waited for them in Bela? Etta was anxious to return to her people, but it was as if they were all walking into darkness.
The cloud blocking out the sun was La Dame and the power that lurked within her.
“You okay?” Edmund whispered, bumping her shoulder with his.
Her eyes didn’t leave Alex as she nodded. Did she have any choice but to be okay? Alex said something to his brother and then got up to approach them, his long legs reaching them in a few slow strides. He lowered himself to his knees, facing both Etta and Edmund.
“Promise me you’ll take care of each other,” he said.
“Alex–” Edmund started.
“Promise,” he growled.
“I won’t leave her side.”
“Like I could get rid of Edmund even if I tried.”
Alex nodded. “Anders is nearby. As soon as the wards are in place, he’ll disperse his men throughout the kingdom to restore some sort of order. I’m sending Duke Caron and Duchess Moreau to their respective estates.”
A harsh laugh burst from Edmund’s throat. “Does my father know I won’t be returning? The great Anders wouldn’t show up to wish his only spawn well?”
Alex sighed and scratched the back of his neck. “I’m sorry.”
“I should have known better than to expect anything more.”
Etta took his hand between both of hers. The flames lit the sadness on his face. His lips drew down, and he pressed them together.
Alex watched him for a moment, words of comfort failing him. He turned to Etta. “I understand magic folk can’t cross the wards, but does magic work across them?”
Etta’s brow scrunched in thought. “I don’t know.”
“Well run a test to see if Ara’s magic can be of use to us. If you need me.”
“Alex, I’m not dragging Gauleans into the fight with La Dame.”
“If you need us,” he repeated, clenching his teeth. “We will come.”
“Don’t be stupid.”
“Don’t be stubborn.”
He was impossible. Etta had no intention of calling on them and he wouldn’t listen. Her magic enhanced the anger already brewing. “You don’t have magic,” she yelled as it boiled over. “What do you think the few Gaulean soldiers who are actually loyal to their king can do against an army of magically armed Draconians? Gaule is useless to us.” When her words stopped and her chest heaved, the magic shrank back and she realized what she’d said.
Alex stood slowly. “Good to know what you really think.”
With those final words, he strode back toward his tent and disappeared inside.
“That wasn’t okay, Etta,” Edmund said gruffly.
“I know.” She pulled her knees in and rested her chin on them. Maybe it was better to make him hate her before she left. His life would be easier if he never thought of her again.
As quickly as the thought came, it dissipated, replaced by the shattering knowledge of what tomorrow would bring.
Alex wasn’t sure how long he’d been asleep when a warm body pressed into his side as Etta crawled into bed with him.
Her words had been a stinging indictment. When she’d said Gaule was useless to her, he imagined she spoke of him. He didn’t have magic and would be no use at her side. He had very little skill with a sword even. What need would she have of him in a war?
None.
Could he really be angry at her for the truth?
That’s what it all was. He didn’t know which parts of the Gaulean army was loyal and which turned a blind eye to the persecution he outlawed. Many of them had even taken up swords against him. His own people.
He longed for the unwavering loyalty of the Belaen people. Etta hadn’t been raised to be queen and yet they left everything behind to follow her blindly in a direction that could lead to ruin. Again. Bela had been destroyed once before. Would it be again?
“I’m sorry,” Etta whispered, pressing a kiss to his neck as she burrowed farther under the blanket.
Alex kept his eyes closed, enjoying the feel of her. He didn’t want to be angry on their final night and he couldn’t remember Etta ever apologizing for anything before.
When he finally opened his eyes, he turned to face her. “It was only the truth.”
“No, it wasn’t.” She propped her head up on her hand and bit her lip. “Sometimes I say things and can’t stop myself.”
“That’s always been your problem.” He smiled but the intensity of her gaze didn’t waver.
“It’s different now. This magic…” She sucked in a breath. “It has a darkness to it. Ever since the curse was broken, and this power flooded me, it’s like I can’t control anything. The power… I think it’s angry. It has a mind of its own and intensifies everything I feel. If I’m the slightest bit irritated, it turns into anger and hatred so deep that sometimes it’s all I have.”
Was it true? The ancient Basile power was dark? But the girl before him was the light of his world.
He tucked an errant strand of silky golden hair behind her ear. “You can beat it.”
She shook her head. “I can’t. There are two people living inside me. Etta—the girl who will leave her kingdom to protect her people. And Persinette Basile, the queen who was always meant to have the Basile magic. One is just trying to survive each day and keep her kingdom alive. The other yearns for more. More power, more magic. Persinette Basile wants to raze Dracon to the ground no matter what she has to give up in the process. Etta doesn’t want to leave this bed and the one man who can make her forget she’s anything but that girl who won a tournament once upon a time.”
He kissed her, his lips searing his own faith into her. “Have you ever thought Bela needs both Etta and Persinette?”
She nodded. “I think I need both too if I’m going to beat La Dame. She has all the power of Persinette, but what she lacks is an Etta. She wants revenge on my family, but vengeance will never win.”
He pulled her head down to his chest. The silence of the night hid the fears of the morning as time slowed and they drifted into the land of dreams where the time for separation would never come.