I forget everything but my rage, everything but my desperate need to see them safe again. To hold Sylvie in my arms, to stand beside Taran like a brother. The love of my life and my greatestfriend, held by people who will do anything to them if it means getting to me.
There’s an even darker thought at the edge of my mind that I haven’t allowed to linger since the incident with Zara. Being with me is a danger to them both. It’s a danger to everyone around me. They’ve all chosen to be with me. Many of them have sworn themselves to me, sworn their lives to protect my life.
And for what?
What do I have to offer them? War? The promise of violence? The constant threat of kidnapping, torture, betrayal? All of it so I can cling onto power I’m not sure I should have, power I did not earn and rarely feel I deserve.
I’ve spent my life believing I could be what the people needed. Buttheseare the people. I glimpse them in endless tents through breaks in the clouds. There are so many of my people gathered here to fight to the death against me.
What if I’m wrong? Everything I’ve done has been predicated on the belief that my father’s sundering of the land has made it so that only the phoenix cypress ash and the gold it provides can keep all of us from starving. But what if there truly is another answer, and Adria has it?
Am I depriving my people of a life they deserve due to arrogance? Am I dooming them to war because of my pride?
And Sylvie. Gods, it hurts me to think of her down there with them. Alienated from her family because I couldn’t stay away from her. Because I chose to pursue her, knowing what it would cost her, what it had to cost her.
And then I failed to protect her. I failed not once but twice, letting her slip through my fingers. And now I’ve put Taran in the same situation through my recklessness. My desperation.
She loves me. They love me, and I failed them.
The light of dawn is just beginning to touch Faros by the time we return. We had no choice but to divert from the most direct route to the south to avoid being seen as we drew closer, and the extended flight time forced me to heal Kira to avoid injuring her wings.
She’s exhausted. And I’m exhausted, and I’m furious, but the worst of my self-loathing has passed. Whatever responsibility I have for what has happened, it’s something I’ll figure out how to deal with later, after I have them back.
“General Orinsen, your majesty?” Marta asks as I lead Kira back into the stable.
I shake my head. “Captured.”
Marta looks at me in shock and pity but holds her tongue.
“It was a tough ride. Give her extra care, will you?” I look into Kira’s golden eagle eyes. They’re strained, unused to seeing in the darkness. It’s a shame she isn’t part owl.
“Of course, sir,” says Marta, bowing as I take my leave.
“Your majesty!” calls Lord Cyrus from the steps to the palace’s main building. He sweeps down the stairs, his long white beard and white robes blowing in the morning breeze. “Letters arrived from House Orbius and House Grana. Where is General Orinsen?”
“Captured,” I say again. I’ll likely be saying it a lot today. “Convene the war council. And bring me all of the options.Allof them.” I stop before Lord Cyrus and give him a meaningful look.
Yes, those options too. I have done him a disservice by ignoring his counsel.
It’s time to consider every possibility. I need someone to find me a reasonable option before I burn this kingdom to the ground to get them back.
“Right away, sir.” He bows, but before I take my leave, he stops me. “Sir?”
I nod for him to continue. It’s unusual for him to wait for permission at all, so whatever it is, it must be important.
He regards me with a rare display of sympathy. “For what it’s worth, we agree in this matter. I’d like to see Miss Sylvara returned to you as soon as possible. And General Orinsen, of course. For your sake, and for the sake of the realm.”
I’m taken aback. I’ve never known Cyrus to show even the smallest token of compassion, not even to his own children. Not even about Quinn while she was unconscious, when it wasn’t clear she would ever wake.
“It’s Sylvie,” I say. My hand trembles when I say her name, but I manage to keep my voice steady. “Her name is Sylvie.”
“Right you are, sir. We will get Sylvie back.”
He bows again and leaves me there on the steps, feeling unsettled.
Does he fear what I’ll do on her behalf? I can’t imagine what his motivations are, which unnerves me. I need to be able to trust the people around me now more than ever before.
But look at what trust has given me. Look at what it has cost.
