The next morning, I found my desert robes gone and something else in their place, a thing like Danae wore. It was just a single, wide, very long piece of red cloth and a length of silky ribbon.
Frozen in bed, I stared at it as my husband dressed. “Calix,” I asked. “What do I do with this?”
He looked at it. “Put it on.”
“Will you ask Danae to help me?”
He leaned against the wall, crossing his arms as he looked at me, his mouth curling into a smile. “No need. I suppose I’ve taken enough of these off to figure it out.”
Aiden had bragged about a girl he’d been with once. My mother caught wind of it, and he ended up carrying the girl’s heavy pack for a month. I desperately wished Mother were here to make my husband reconsider bragging to me.
He came to me, pulling the red cloth from the bed. He held it up, a flimsy curtain between us. “Come,” he said. Despite the cloth, he still watched me as I stood from the bed, and he looped the cloth around my neck when I was before him.
He evened out the sides of it, letting his fingers graze my skin, and I wanted to pull away.
He spread out the pieces of the cloth so that they covered my breasts, and the long, wide ends overlapped and formed a skirt low on my back, leaving much of my skin bare. It hadn’t looked strange on Danae, but I hated the way it felt. Exposed. Displayed. Unprotected.
“You are stunning,” he said, running his hands along my sides, pulling me closer to him.
I didn’t feel stunning, and I clutched my arms. “I’m cold,” I told him with a shiver.
He stared at my body for a while longer, and then his finger touched my chin, drawing it up higher. “Then I will get something from Atalo to cover you with,” he told me, moving away.
He left me, demanding a coat from the vestai as I stayed within the chamber. He brought it to me, a thin silk garment that skimmed my arms and went the length of the dress to the floor. There was no way to close it, and it hung open over the foreign clothing.
We left with as little ceremony as we’d come the night before. As we walked out to meet Danae and Galen, the wind kicked up and caught my dress, ruffling the light fabric, but it felt so cold on my skin I stopped and sucked in a breath, rubbing my arms.
Galen was staring at me, his hard eyes fixed and shocked like I had stepped out naked from the castle. I felt naked. I couldn’t move forward.
“What in the Skies is that?” Kairos asked, appearing behind me.
I looked around. “The clothing?” I asked.
“Clothing?” he repeated, laughing. “You look like a bobcat in butterfly wings. Like a—”
My mind filled in any of the awful words I had been thinking.
He sighed, drawing his wide desert scarf off his neck and pulling it around my shoulders. “Like you’re frozen,” he said softer, rubbing my arms.
I held the scarf tight around me, nodding. He kept one arm on me as he walked me to the carriage, his watchful eyes considering Calix, Danae, and Galen all in turn. Kairos was about to help me into the carriage when he murmured, “They will never take the desert from you, Shalia. Don’t fear.”
I nodded, clutching his hand, more grateful for having him with me than I knew how to say.
We stopped again that night, shackled by the slow progress of the army. By the third day, I didn’t even want to open my eyes and look out on this new kingdom. I wanted to go home. I wanted to be warm again, feel the heat on my skin and the bright, sustaining love of family wrapped around my heart.
And yet, when we readied the carriage that morning, Danae stretched and said to me, “We need fresh air. Will you join me in a ride, my queen?”
Osmost swooped, catching something up in his jaws, and Kairos smiled. “Osmost thinks it’s an excellent idea.”
The wind blew across my face, fresh and cold, and I nodded, wrapping Kairos’s scarf more tightly around me. “That would be a welcome change, I think.”
Kairos helped me onto my horse before mounting his own, and Calix scowled and got into the carriage alone. I saw Galen ordering his soldiers about, and Danae led me into the column. At the shout of a man on horseback carrying a flag, the army lurched forward with loud, coordinated stomps.
It wasn’t long before there was a clearing in the trees, and I saw a green valley below us.
“We’re in Nomikos, the northernmost part of the Bone Lands,” Danae told me. “Just for a little while longer.” She held out three fingers on one hand, raising up the knuckles like the legs of a spider. “People call the Trifectate the Bone Lands because it looks like three fingers—three great mountain ridges running into the sea.” She tapped her fingers one by one. “Nomikos, Kyrikatos, Liatos.” She wiggled the tip of her middle finger. “And the City of Three is here, in Kyrikatos. We’ll make Kyrikatos by the end of the day, and hopefully the City of Three in another day.”
“The Bone Lands are vast,” I murmured, looking out into the green. “Is that forest?”
She shook her head. “No, those are mostly farmlands. There were forests around here, but they’ve been culled and are starting to regrow. The shipbuilders in Liatos get their trees from the mountain regions now.”
“My father always said you had strong farms. You feed your people well.”
She smiled. “Yes. One of Calix’s first acts as king was to improve our farmlands. His quaesitori found that the land can be fortified so that it won’t grow fallow as often, and it’s worked very well.”
I frowned. “What’s a quaesitori?” Weren’t they the men who Calix wished to send into the desert?
“They are men of knowledge,” she said. “They study the ways of the world. Calix has been very enamored of their art ever since we were young.”
Kairos drew his horse up beside mine. “I can’t quite imagine him as a child,” Kairos said. “Your mother must have had her hands full.”
“I suppose so. It was only my father who would ever chastise him, even before my mother died.”
I looked at Danae. Her posture was straighter now, and she looked only ahead. I couldn’t imagine losing my mother so young—or ever. Even being away from her for a few days felt like someone was pulling my insides out.
Her shoulders lifted. “But no one could ever really discipline Calix anyway. From a very young age, he wasn’t just a prince, he was a god. It changes things.” Her shoulders dropped back down. “And then he became a king, and his will became his undeniable asset. It might have been the only thing protecting me and my brother when foreign kings and even our own vestai would have taken the crown away. And our lives, I’m sure.”
“Was his early reign so difficult?” I asked her, quieting my voice.
She nodded. “It has taken a long time to achieve peace. For all of us.” She laughed, a sharp, short sound. “But yes, being the younger sibling of a god is complicated.”
“But you and your brother are also gods, aren’t you?” I asked.
She looked at me. “Yes. But the faces of the God are never entirely equal.” She shook her head.
“Don’t bore her, Danae,” Galen said, riding up the column to Danae’s side.
“I’m not bored,” I assured him. “You were raised very differently from us, it seems.”
Galen’s jaw worked, but Kairos chuckled. “Yes, well, having older brothers upon older cousins upon uncles means someone is generally willing to thump some discipline into you.” Kai laughed. “Though it’s the girls who are the worst. All that pinching.”
“You must be an accomplished fighter,” Galen said to Kairos. “You should teach me how to wield those scimitars.”
Kairos shrugged and held out his arm, and Osmost swooped, making Galen jump. Osmost grabbed Kai’s covered wrist, then hopped to his shoulder, opening his mouth and giving Kairos an affectionate kik-kik-kik noise that almost sounded like he was laughing. “Me? I’m not much of a fighter,” Kairos said, his smile turning sly. “When you have four older brothers who could pound you into the ground, you learn different skills.” Kairos held out his hand with a thick leather glove to guard against the bird’s claws, and Osmost jumped to it, letting Kairos bring him in close to pet his feathers as Osmost glared at Galen. “But a scimitar is just a big sword, really. Watch out for the pointy parts.”
I expected Galen to be insulted, but instead his eyes narrowed at Kairos, and I wondered if he understood the truth—with four older brothers who could pound anyone into the ground, Kairos was by far the most dangerous.
Osmost’s head cocked, and Kairos winced as his claws dug in. Osmost leaped into flight, winging fast and high, and Kairos reined in his horse. “Stop,” he said sharply, looking around. “Shalia, go there,” he said, pointing to a break in the rocky wall on one side of the road.
“What is it?” I asked.
“The hawk’s letting me know there’s danger,” he told me.
“What kind?” Galen asked.
“He’s a hawk,” Kairos snapped. “He’s not specific.”
“Go with your sister,” Galen ordered. I still hadn’t moved, and I looked to Kairos, who didn’t come closer. “I’m not leaving her alone by the side of the road.”
Kairos nodded at this, wheeling his horse over to me. No sooner did he turn than a cry rose up, and men started flooding out of the trees around the road. My horse reared, but I held on, locating a break in the rocks and urging him toward it as Kairos followed close behind, shouting at me.
I practically leaped off the horse to get lower and deeper into the small space, and Kairos moved in front of me, his gleaming scimitar drawn as another row of guards closed off the break in the rock.
Beyond the guards, men were rushing at each other, but they all seemed to look the same, their uniforms indistinguishable to my eyes. I didn’t know how the soldiers could tell good from bad.
And then a man came perilously close to the line of guards, and I saw a green dragon stitched onto his coat.
And the dragon looked frighteningly like the symbol for my family.
Then I saw only red as a knife slashed across his throat and blood poured out. He fell, and Danae stood behind him with a knife in her hand.
She met my eyes for a moment, and I saw no fear there, no hesitation.
“Shalia, back!” Kairos yelled, and I saw the guards fighting, someone breaking through and raising his sword to my brother.
Kairos was a force to be reckoned with when he had a blade in his hands, but it didn’t calm the fear rising in my chest. The dust from the road rose with the fervor of so many moving bodies, and it was hard to tell who was coming for whom.
The man Kairos was fighting fell, but two more sprang on him. In wartime, desert men carried two scimitars—and knew what to do with them—but Kairos was only wearing one today.
They set upon him viciously, and his sword flashed as he fought them both off.
Then a third appeared, brandishing a knife and heading for my brother.
“Kai!” I screamed, launching forward, everything else vanishing in my need to protect him.
Kairos turned as the man made his move, and one of the others raised his sword.
A cracking sound boomed above me, and I looked away from Kairos to see where it came from. Then the mountain moved, blocking out the light as a boulder sheared off the rock overhead and came crashing down.
Kairos dropped his scimitar and dove for me, hitting my body and dragging me down as the rock crashed, too large to get into our small corner. Everything shuddered, and more rocks swept down over us as the boulder slammed into the road, stilling before it rolled and fell off the other side.
The sounds of the fighting were loud, but no one was near us now. Dust rose thick around us, and I couldn’t breathe, coughing against Kairos as he kept me down and away, and it felt like he was sheltering my thundering heart as much as my body.
A dense curtain of dust hid us away from the fighting. The men who had been attacking him were broken on the ground, their bodies still and red.
Almost like the rock knew what I wanted.
I sucked in a breath, and it was thick with dust. I coughed it out as my heart pounded and I fought to get in any clean air, my chest tight with panic.
My hands were tingling, and it was more than the rush of fear—I had felt this before. On the bridge, when the veil had been removed and the shiver seemed to start inside me and end on the rocks.
The earth had answered me. The earth had reacted to me.
I used Kai’s scarf to cover my mouth as I desperately tried to breathe without coughing, black spots dancing in my eyes as all my thoughts and fears stormed inside my mind and I still couldn’t breathe.
Kata had told me, she’d told me for years—she always thought I had an ability. A power. Like her, but she could control water. What if I could control earth?
Foul sorcery.
No. No, I couldn’t possibly. If I could control earth, if I was like Kata, I would be a traitor to my new country. Peace would be broken before it was even real.
The scarf helped, and I finally got in a full breath, then another one. A cough came quick on the heels of the third, and the spots burst across my vision again.
Which was worse? Dying here for lack of air, or living to break the peace and betray my new husband with a power I couldn’t possibly have?
“Kairos,” I said, my voice shaking.
“Stay quiet, Shy,” Kai said softly, moving off me and pulling me farther into the alcove.
I nodded, trying to repress my cough as I followed him.
“Are you all right?” he asked quietly, looking up, watching the mountain like it was about to attack.
Was I? “Can Osmost get word to Kata?” I asked.
His eyes met mine, confused and questioning, always seeing more than I wanted them to. Then understanding sparked, and his head jerked up, searching the cliff again. “No, Shalia. I know she always said—I know it’s possible—but of anyone, you cannot have that power. Not with your husband.”
“Kairos, can he get a message to her? I have to see her. I have to …” I trailed off, looking up at the cliff. “Kairos, please.”
Something clamored closer in the dust, and he huffed out a breath. “Yes,” he said. “Don’t breathe a word of this, Shalia. Don’t even think about it.”
I nodded, gripping his hand and pulling myself up.
“Shalia!” I heard someone yelling. The clanging noises of steel were becoming quieter, and I saw shapes moving in the clearing dust. Kairos moved away from me as Galen charged through the dust. “You’re all right?” Galen asked, touching my chin and turning my head this way and that.
“I’m unharmed,” I said. It certainly wasn’t the same thing, but it was the only answer I could give.
“Come with me,” he said. “The column is broken. I need to get you to safety.”
“Where is Calix?” I asked.
“He’s coming behind us,” he said. “We need to secure you both as quickly as possible.”
Kairos let out a low, sharp whistle, and his dark brown horse came trotting back to us, with no sign of mine.
“Take my horse,” he said. “I’ll be right behind you.”
I nodded, swinging onto it. Galen put his foot in the stirrup, and I pulled at the reins. “What are you doing?” I asked.
“Escorting you.”
“We’ll be faster on two horses,” I insisted.
“You’re all right to ride on your own?” he asked, surprised. “It’s a difficult ride.”
I nodded sharply. “I told you, I am unharmed. If the horse can do it, I can.”
He found his own horse, turning back to look at me. “Follow me closely. Shout if we are separated by more than the length of a horse,” he said.
“I will,” I promised.
He led the horses off the road, down the steep, sloping terrain littered with rocks and trees. I held my breath at the sharp pitch, but the horse knew what to do, following behind Galen’s until we hit open fields, and the horses ran, not at a full gallop, but a quick canter.
We crossed through fields, and passed small farmhouses, and I wondered why we couldn’t stop there. Was there not enough room, or did Galen not trust their loyalty to the king?
“Here,” he called, leading me down a path around a field of some sort of tall grain. I saw a large gate guarding a road and, farther in, a sprawling home.
Two guards appeared as we approached, and Galen shouted, “In the name of the king, open the gates!”
The guards didn’t hesitate, opening the gates and letting us ride in.
By the time we reached a pretty fountain, a woman was coming out of the house to stand on the steps. She was older, her hair white and still well kept. “Commander,” she said, dropping her head to him. “How can I be of service?”
“Forgive the imposition, Domina Naxos,” he said, inclining his head to her before he jumped from his horse and came to attend to me. “The king and queen have been attacked. This was the closest place we could come for shelter.”
“You are welcome to it, dear boy,” she said, turning to a servant and ordering rooms opened, fires lit, food made, and everyone who could tend to an injury made ready. Galen helped me down, letting out a breath when I was on the ground, as if he could relax now that I was secured.
He brought me to the woman. “This is your new queen,” he told her. “My queen, this is Domina Naxos. The domina and her late husband were good friends to my grandfather.”
“And always to you,” she said, leaning forward to kiss his cheek. He warmed to this, and it was the closest to a smile I’d ever seen on his face. She turned to me, bowing and taking my hands to kiss each in turn. “Welcome, my queen. I am sorry for your hardship.”
“Thank you for taking us in,” I told her. “Has anyone else arrived?” Anxiously, I looked around, but we were the only ones.
“No,” she said. “But come. We will see you clean and fed.”
Galen nodded me inside, and I followed where she led. She gave us water to wash, and I splashed my face and my hands to clear them of dust. When I was done, Galen took off his black jacket with a grunt, and I saw why. There was a cut on his arm, not deep but still bleeding.
It looked like the work of a sword, not a rock, but it suddenly made me wonder if I had protected my brother to harm someone else’s.
But no—the farther I got from that moment, the more I doubted that I had been the one to pull a boulder from the mountain.
Drawing breath, I asked one of the servants for a few bandages. “Sit,” I told Galen, gesturing to a stool. “You’re hurt.”
“And?” he asked, arching one of his sharp eyebrows, but sitting on the stool I directed him to. “Is there something you intend to do about it?”
“Yes,” I told him. “You do know I have five brothers quite prone to fighting, don’t you?”
He grunted, which I took as a yes.
“They get into many scrapes, which girls are usually required to fix.”
“I don’t need a woman to tend to my wounds,” he said. “I can do it myself.”
“Oh, for the Skies,” I told him with a sigh. The servant reappeared with the bandages, and I took them from her, dipping a fresh cloth in the water. I reached for his cuff, and he pulled away. “Galen, really,” I said. “I’m not going to hurt you.”
“My sleeve won’t go up that far,” he said simply. He tugged his shirt off over his head, and I felt heat flush my face as I focused on his wound.
I took the clean, wet cloth and brushed the debris out of the wound. His jaw went tight, but he didn’t flinch, looking ahead as I did it. I snuck glances at his chest. It was similar in size, but so very different from his brother’s—full of scars and honed muscles, equally as solid and carved as his face.
“It’s not deep,” I told him, pressing to stem the blood. “You won’t even need stitching.”
He nodded. “Thank you.”
I smiled at his continued stoniness. “I planned this whole thing,” I told him, and his eyes cut to me. “So I could tend to your wound and you’d finally be forced to like me.”
I wrapped a length of bandage around his arm as tightly as I could. A muscle in his jaw flared as I tied it. “It needs to be tight,” I told him.
“I didn’t complain,” he answered. “And I don’t dislike you.”
“Will you answer some questions if I ask you, then?” I sat back, rinsing my hands as he put on his shirt, then washed his face and put on his jacket, all buttoned up again.
“That usually depends on the question,” he said.
“What happened today?”
He looked out the window. “I believe the Resistance was after the tax money that Atalo paid us. It was a fortune in gold tri-kings.”
The Resistance. Hadn’t Kata said that was the name of Rian’s cause? He could have been following us since the desert. “Did they take it?”
He nodded. “Yes. Calix will be in a foul mood tonight,” he said, his eyes flicking to me like a warning.
“I saw Danae cut a man’s throat,” I said. “She didn’t look afraid. She looked like she knew what she was doing. I’ve never seen a woman commit violence like that with such ease or ability.”
There was a grave expression on his face, and he crossed his arms. “I would ask you to speak to her about that. It’s not my information to share.”
I nodded, swallowing. What kind of secret did she harbor? “Very well.”
“Kairos is here,” he said, his watchful eyes on the window. “Do you have any more questions for me?”
“No.”
He started toward the door and then halted. “You should tell Calix you were hurt,” he said, his eyes on the door and not on me. “I don’t know who he’ll vent his rage on, but it will be someone, and if he thinks you’re injured, it won’t be you.”
This made my breath stop, but Galen just left the room.
I shook my head. What did that mean? I knew my husband could be short tempered, but the warning made fear curl at the back of my neck.
Moments later, Kairos came to me, eager to wash up. He dipped his hands in the pink-tinged water, and I looked at him, feeling incredibly lost. He sighed heavily, leaning on the table as water dripped from his face. “Shalia, what you said before—” he started.
I shook my head fast. “No, Kai. Not here.” I bit my lip, sucking in a breath like with it I could hold so many secrets. “Did Osmost return?”
He nodded. “He’s hunting outside.”
“How far behind you is the king?”
“Not far,” he said. “Apparently the attackers got his money, and he’s not happy.” I nodded, and he hesitated, forming more words slowly. “The thing before,” he said carefully. “What if it happens again?”
“It won’t,” I assured him, but it was false. I couldn’t even consider controlling it, because it wasn’t possibly real. Was it? Then I shook my head. “I’m not even certain I did … that.”
He nodded. “Just be careful. I’ll send Osmost out tonight, and I’ll let you know as soon as I’ve heard from Kata.”
“What if he doesn’t return by morning? They’ll be suspicious.”
A ghost of a smile appeared on his face. “Of what? My hawk off hunting?”
I shrugged, but my head turned as I heard a horse whinny outside. The carriage was pulling up, and even as a shiver went down my spine, I went out of the room and almost ran for the doorway. The domina was there, bowing to Calix and Danae as they emerged, but Calix smiled when he saw me, motioning me forward.
I went to him and he pulled me into his arms, kissing me. My throat felt tight as so many things pounded in my chest. Galen’s strange advice to lie to him, the stolen money that Rian might have taken, and worse, the power that might mean my death. At my husband’s hands, no less.
And also, stupidly, the strange look on Calix’s face when he asked if I cared for him. I wondered if I could care for him in truth, if that would keep me safe if I was what I feared, if simply caring for him would make him love me.
“Come,” I said, pulling back. “You have had such an ordeal, my husband. I will tend to you.”
He smiled and kissed me again, pulling me close to his side when he was done. “Thank you, wife,” he said. “Galen,” he called, seeing him. “Follow us and report. Domina, I will need a bath.”
She had never raised her head, but she bowed farther. “Of course, my king. My servants will lead you to a room.”
The servants brought us to a different bedroom than I had been in before, with hot water in a basin and clean cloths beside it. Calix sat, and moments later servants brought in a huge basin for his bath and started filling it with bucket after bucket of steaming water.
“Wash me while they fill it, wife,” he said, looking at me and the basin on the stand. “Like you did the other night.”
Something about the way he said it in front of his brother made it seem shameful, like my attention to him made me weaker and submissive, and heat burned in my cheeks. I took a cloth anyway, dipping it in the water, and I used it to rinse one hand gently.
“Are you going to report, brother?” he snapped.
Galen cleared his throat. “We lost ten men, and—”
“So few?” Calix demanded, sitting straighter. “We lost ten men and almost a thousand tri-kings.”
“They had the advantage,” Galen said. “We couldn’t do much on the road. They chose their spot well to attack the gold without much engagement.”
“Every man who guarded that gold who is still alive will be executed before I have my dinner,” he growled.
“Calix!” I gasped.
His snarl turned toward me. “They should have died to protect it,” he snapped. “It’s a matter of honor.”
“I’m not going to execute my men,” Galen said, his voice steely.
“Then I will do it myself.”
“Oh, will you?” Galen scoffed. “You will hold the sword, brother?”
“My feet,” Calix snapped at me.
I cringed but obeyed him, taking off his boots.
“When you hold the sword, it is I holding the sword,” Calix told his brother. “You are my arm. You are my hand. And that is all.”
“No,” Galen returned.
“You have so little care for my queen?” he asked, and I froze. “Keep washing, Shalia.”
“I have the highest regard for your queen,” Galen said.
“She could have been murdered today. Our peace could have been destroyed. And you won’t punish your men for their inadequacies? You may as well spit on my wife and my marriage.” I looked to Calix, but he wasn’t looking at me, invoking me like I wasn’t there at all, just using me to make a point to his brother.
“My men defended her admirably. And they will continue to do so.”
“So my wife is more important than my money. Is that what you are saying?” Calix asked. He looked down and saw that I was finished washing his hands and feet. “You may disrobe me, wife, so that I can bathe.”
I didn’t dare turn toward Galen, but I heard him make some small noise as Calix stood with a smirk on his face. I rose with him to untie his shirt. “You disapprove of the way I treat my wife, brother?”
“I made no such comment.”
Calix chuckled. “Execute them, or I will brand them as traitors and their families won’t receive a pension,” he said. “And they will still be dead.”
I pulled Calix’s shirt over his head, and my hands shook as I reached for the ties on his lower half. Was this a trick? Surely he didn’t want me exposing him to his brother. Had he no modesty?
“I will inspect their bodies as soon as possible.”
Galen grunted. “Allow me to give them a good meal, at least. And if I can do it while the others sleep, there will be less dissent from the men.”
“Very well. It is Domina Naxos who is paying to host them, not me.” Calix cupped my cheek, smiling at me darkly. “Now go, before you embarrass my wife.”
I heard Galen’s boots on the floor, and the door shut behind him. Only then did I look up to see Galen gone, and at Calix’s urging, I helped him remove the rest of his clothes. “You can wash me in the bath, wife. I think I enjoy being taken care of.”
I stared at the floor while he got in the steaming water by the fire.
“You look displeased, my love.”
“I didn’t like that,” I said softly. “I wish to care for you, but to do it in front of your brother—it made me feel subservient, Calix. Not like your wife.”
He tugged my hand, but I resisted him. “I wished only to show you off,” he told me. He tugged harder, and I moved, frightened by the strength of it. “You are queen, and I need you displayed always.”
“And you will make a display of those men,” I said, my heart aching. “I don’t understand why you want more death on such a day.”
He pulled my arm until I dropped to my knees beside the bath. “Your heart is soft, and that is good and right, wife. But mine cannot be. More important than love, than grief, more important than anything is power. And to allow them to live would be to sacrifice it, and I cannot do that.”
His voice had a hard edge to it, and I nodded, biting my lip.
“Wash me,” he ordered.
I did as he asked, and when he was through, I helped him dress and left the room to ask the servants to bring supper.
As the door shut behind me, I saw Kairos, skulking in the darkness. His mouth lifted, and he waggled his eyebrows at me, but said nothing.
I pressed back the urge to cry again, giving him a tiny smile and going to find a servant.
My husband and I ate supper together in silence. Afterward, he stretched and said he was quite tired, and I stood. “Do you mind if I take the food back to the kitchens?” I asked him. “I’m so restless. I think a walk will help.”
He looked at the bed like he knew this was a ploy to shirk my duty, but he sighed. “Very well. I’m tired. I won’t be awake when you return.”
“I won’t disturb you,” I promised.
I brought the food back to the kitchens, swayed for a moment by the warm fire, but there were too many servants looking at me curiously there. I went out the first door I could find, emerging onto a wide expanse of grass fading into dark night where the lamplight ended. It was so cold outside, and I hugged my arms around myself, feeling the shaky tremors of unshed tears still stoppered inside me. My husband wasn’t there, but still I didn’t want to let them free.
Walking out to the edge of the light, I drew slow breaths, listening to the night birds rustling in the trees. I wondered if these strange places were governed by the same spirits we had in the desert. The stories I had heard of them mandated that spirits were in everything, everywhere, and they could not be destroyed or created, only remade. But it seemed strange that they could survive here, with no one to respect them or remember them.
But if that were true, wasn’t it possible that the powers of the islands could be found somewhere else too? They were not unlike spirits, from what I’d heard.
What would it even mean? I knew some of Kata’s power—she could control water, make it do her bidding. She had opened temples one at a time, releasing water, air, fire, and earth, like the breaking of a dam. If I had moved the rock—if, if—my element would be earth. I could manipulate the earth?
Despite knowing enough that I desperately wanted to hide such knowledge from my husband, I suddenly felt like I knew nothing about these powers—not really. Kata had said that anyone could have them now, but who did have them? Were there no ceremonies, no rites—how could such power just appear? I didn’t even know how common these powers were. When the powers still lived in the islanders, their people had been legendary—they could build palaces with nothing but their hands; they had the most mighty naval fleet in the world. They could re-form the earth to their will.
I looked down at the ground, dotted with small rocks, covered over with spiky grass. I held my hand out to it, frowning and squinting at it, willing it to move.
Nothing happened.
I tried again, feeling utterly foolish as I held my breath and tensed my muscles, acting like I could push the earth with just my will.
Nothing.
Curling my fingers into fists, I walked faster. Of course. I couldn’t be an Elementa. It wasn’t even possible, much less likely or probable or even reasonable.
And looking back to the large building, I was grateful that I was no Elementa. It had to be a lie, a trick, something—I couldn’t be that and be married to Calix.
I would not survive.
My hands were shivering by the time I came around to the front of the house, drawn by the sound of the burbling fountain. It sounded like the river that tripped through Jitra, but false and confined.
My skin prickled, scraped by the cold, and I nearly turned to go back into the house, but something caught my eye on the dark edge of the courtyard. I could see boots, just the very tips of them, and I walked closer.
My hand flew to my mouth, and I sank weakly to my knees as the tears I had fought for hours came rushing out.
Four men were lying there like they were asleep, their throats cut, their skin gray. I could only guess these were the failed soldiers, the ones my husband ordered killed.
The men Galen killed. How could he follow such an order? My husband ordered it so, but Galen was commander, powerful in his own right. And he just killed his men who had done their best.
But Galen hadn’t wanted to obey. It was easy to see in the way he defied his brother—I could not imagine what such a task must have cost him. What years of struggling under such orders must have cost him.
“Shalia?”
I turned and saw Galen on his horse, riding closer, his eyes sweeping back and forth like he was searching. “Where is Calix?” he said urgently.
But I couldn’t stop crying, covering my mouth to stop from making noise and drawing my husband out here to see my weakness, his softhearted wife.
“Shalia, three hells, stop crying,” Galen said. “Where is Calix? Has he seen these men?”
When I raised my head, I saw he was covered in blood, his hair mussed, his uniform ruined. But—I turned back to the bodies, and despite their throats being cut, there was very little blood on the wounds.
The tears shocked out of me, I looked behind him. He had been riding a horse, and on it was a prostrate body. “Great Skies,” I breathed.
“Shalia, has Calix seen this?” he demanded.
I struggled to stand, coming closer to him, but he shrank away.
“I’m covered in their blood, Shalia,” he warned. “You can’t touch me.”
“He’s asleep,” I told him, sniffing and wiping my face. “These men—how did they die?” It wasn’t here, by his hand—that I was certain of.
Galen swallowed. “In the attack. He won’t know these aren’t the men who guarded the gold.” His eyes watched me carefully. “Unless you tell him.”
Another secret, but this one felt more important than the others. It was deceiving my husband, directly undermining his orders.
And yet, not speaking this truth would save the men who were supposed to die—and possibly even Galen. And if there was even a chance I was an Elementa, I would need so much more practice in keeping things from Calix.
I wiped my cheeks again. “I would never.”
“You were crying for them?” he asked.
For everything, I thought. “Yes,” seemed like a safer answer. “And you,” I admitted, lowering my eyes.
“Me.”
I dared to look up at him, so pale and covered in blood it was as if he had been the one murdered. “They’re your men,” I said, my voice catching. “And I knew you didn’t want to do what he asked.”
His jaw worked, muscles slowly rolling and moving. “Neither did you, it seemed.”
Yet he had figured out a way to thwart his brother, and I had knelt at Calix’s feet like a dog, obeying him. The thought stung. “I’m happy you didn’t have to,” I told him honestly.
“I’m the commander of an army, and I hate death,” he said, his voice soft.
I drew a breath, bobbing my head. “It’s a difficult strength to have, to be sure.”
“You think that’s strength,” he said, and it wasn’t a question. As a statement, it made me feel foolish, but I refused to feel ashamed of that.
“Yes,” I said, meeting his eyes again.
But he wasn’t trying to make me feel foolish. That was clear in his eyes. He appeared young, and lost, and like he wanted to believe my words. He swallowed and his eyes left mine. “You should go,” he said. “Thank you for not telling him.”
Another secret. I nodded, sniffing again. “Good night, Galen.”
He didn’t reply, turning away from me and going to pull the other body off his horse.
I paused for a moment. “Galen,” I said, trying not to be loud.
He stopped.
“This may be garish, but they need more blood at their throats,” I said, and knew even as I said it that helping Galen create his lie was worse than just hiding the truth from my husband. “He’ll be able to tell.”
Galen looked sharply to the bodies and nodded. “Good night, my queen.”
I went back to Calix. I changed into a nightdress the domina had brought before dinner, sliding into bed beside my husband. I jumped when his arm snaked around me, but he didn’t fully wake.
It took me a long while to fall asleep, counting my secrets like armor.
Calix woke me before the dawn that came in gray and overcast, and the domina gave me fresh clothes and a new, thicker coat to wear. As we gathered to leave and Calix’s attention was elsewhere, I embraced her as I’d seen Galen do. “Thank you,” I told her. “Your hospitality has been such a salve on the wounds of yesterday. I am so sorry I have nothing to offer you in return.”
Her soft cheeks lifted like there were small apples inside them, and she bent and kissed my hands, then pressed my cheeks with her own hands. “Nonsense. You are most welcome, my queen. May the rest of your reign be more peaceful than this.”
I smiled. “Thank you.”
“My king,” she said, stepping back and bowing to him as he entered the room. His hand slid around my waist, pulling me close to him. “Your queen is graceful and kind.”
“Yes,” he said, taking my chin and turning my face to him, kissing me in front of her. I tried to draw back, but he wouldn’t allow it.
“Why don’t you get settled in the carriage, my queen,” he said, finally releasing me.
I dropped my head to him, pulling away as Kairos strode into the room, carrying several long, furry animals tied to a branch. “Domina,” he said, bowing to her. “A gift for you, for your generosity. I’m told these pelts are very precious.”
She laughed, delighted, moving forward. “Oh my. Are these mink? Goodness, I didn’t even know we had any on this land.”
“My hawk is an accomplished hunter,” he explained. “And it goes against our ways to leave a host without a gift.”
She laughed again and thanked him, coming to kiss his cheek. He grinned, leading me out to the carriage while the domina took pains to fawn over my husband as well.
Galen was on his horse, looking stiff and tense, his face still pale though he was cleaned of blood. His eyes met mine for an instant, but they flicked away just as quickly.
Kairos helped me into the carriage, and I saw Danae sitting there, waiting for us. Her eyes looked up at me cautiously. “Yesterday,” she said. “I know you saw me kill that man.”
I sat beside her. “Yes,” I said.
“It’s best if you don’t speak of that to anyone,” she said, raising her chin in a way that reminded me of Calix.
“I thought not,” I said carefully. “And while I know what I saw, I don’t know what it meant.”
“Yes, you do,” she said, her voice sharp. “Princesses are supposed to be married, and instead, I was trained to be a killer. I became the hidden face in every way that matters,” she said bitterly.
“Danae—” I started, but she got up and switched sides of the carriage.
“It’s best you don’t speak of it in front of Calix,” she said, looking out the window.
“He doesn’t know?”
“Of course he knows,” she said, but she didn’t explain further. There were splotches of color on her pale cheeks, and she refused to look at me.
Silenced, I nodded, and Calix entered the carriage, nudging me over more to sit beside me on the seat. “Get on with it,” he shouted to the army. “We’ve lost a lot of time.”
I looked at her, and out the window at Galen, and thought of the things both siblings had asked me to keep from their brother. Calix’s hand captured my own, and his fingers caught mine, curling them over his, rearranging me around him until he was comfortable. I felt the eyes of this man-made God, my husband, move over me, and I thought of my own secrets too.
Three faces, and two wrapped themselves in lies and shadow so the third wouldn’t see the ways in which they defied him.