After that awful night when Krysta was ripped from this world, Helaina’s eating habits, or lack thereof, were her only way of latching on to some pretense of control in her life.
The queen gave a barely perceptible nod of that pointed chin, then continued staring out the window toward the courtyard.
Helaina hadn’t inherited her mother’s uncommon beauty; those traits were given to Krysta. She also didn’t possess the midnight hair and strong jawlines that belonged to the Ironblood men.
The late prince’s list of accomplishments had also separated him from his youngest sister. Even in his early youth, countless rulers and nobles had come to know Adriel. He had forged alliances and created many truces alongside their father. Foolish battles over land and borders became a thing of the past because of Adriel, and his invitations to attend negotiations. Creston, the coastal kingdom to the south, and its western neighbor, Vrasta, ceased their decades of rivalry. The Mirrored Deserts to the far west were allowed to trade goods again in exchange for offering their armies if they were ever called upon. Alliances had become more important than any territorial dispute. Because a greater enemy was making itself known in Lynor.
The eastward lands had always harbored ancient monsters of great wrath. History taught that the gods had grown so weary of warring among themselves that they proposed the creation of a mortal realm to bridge the oppressive divide.
Brahm, God of Creation, had made the mortals. Adonna, Goddess of the Hunt, contributed her many types of animals. Nedos gave Lynor its sun and Kydon gifted his seas. The Hell Gods made malevolent beings, but they had never wandered past the dreadful peaks of the Ash Cliff Mountains before. That barrier had been placed by Brahm himself to split the territories between east and west—between man and monster. As ominous as those mountains appeared, they were there for protection. Yet, two decades ago, that reliable protection began to wither. Since then, there had been occurrences, reports of indescribable things crossing the barrier to hunt the humans and even the fae folk inhabiting Lynor.
When the attacks began, King Matthias of Azaros, the ruler of the fae, had come in response to Adriel’s call, traveling from his northern kingdom to visit Keles. It was the first time any Azarosian royal had visited human lands in centuries. Because of Adriel, that gathering resulted in the first treaty between human and fae.
She knew now that visit had meant so much more than a summons for peace.
Her sister, Krysta, had been a different kind of extraordinary. Not in the political sense like her brother. It was her radiance that left a lasting impression. If Helaina was being honest with herself, it had annoyed her at times. She grew up loving her older sister, but there was always a bit of jealousy there too. How could you not envy Krysta’s honey-golden locks and her almond-colored eyes? Helaina regretted that foolish jealousy now.
It was a stab of icy pain to remember her—remember them. So Helaina did what she did best, and pushed the memory of her brother and sister deep down where it couldn’t reach her.
“Did you sleep well, Mother?” She attempted to make idle conversation to distract herself.
The queen didn’t answer, her eyes fixed on the line of trees outside the window.
Helaina tried her best to form a comforting smile. She reached across the table for the queen’s delicate fingers as they locked eyes.
“I miss them too,” Helaina whispered.
The queen withdrew her hand from her daughter without hesitation, then returned her gaze to the window.
A tingle of humiliation crept up the base of Helaina’s neck. She had never felt so completely dismissed—so disowned.
Thundering footsteps sounded from around the corner.
“Good morning, dearests.” Helaina’s uncle Fessyk, the acting steward, announced his presence. A far-too-cheerful salutation for the melancholy currently hovering over the dining hall. Fessyk never could read a room.
The king’s absence in the realm had not gone unnoticed. Anyone who attempted to persuade him to attend to political matters was met with cold malice, and sometimes a fist. Anyone who reminded him of the constant threat of beasts breaching the barrier and attacking his own citizens had a door slammed in their face.
The court had appointed Lord Fessyk of Oswell, the king’s younger brother, to rule until the king was mentally fit to return.
Helaina was beginning to question if that day would ever come.
“Uncle, you weren’t expected back until Sunday. What a pleasant surprise.” Helaina’s lips turned up in another awful attempt at a smile, her words rich in false elation.
“Business in Vrasta went better than expected. King Heymir’s reports show no attacks for the past several weeks, none in the south either. Patrols at our own borders have had no sightings.” He wore a self-assured smile. As if he alone was to thank for this news.
Discussion of these disappearances had been going on for so long, Helaina was hardly shocked anymore to hear when attacksdidoccur. It had become the new state of normal.
“Your efforts are much appreciated, Fessyk. We owe you a debt beyond measure,” the queen mused dispassionately.
“Yes, thank you, Uncle,” Helaina muttered. She didn’t even deign to make eye contact. She felt Fessyk was getting too comfortable with his new role.
Queen Jayda rose from her chair with a curt smile resting on her face. “I apologize, I know you just arrived, but I’m heading to the chapel this morning. Do you wish to join?”
“No, no... with the recent travel I haven’t had time to visit with my niece. I’m sure we have much to catch up on.” Helaina noticed a knowing glance pass between the two. “Perhaps I’ll join you later.”
Queen Jayda placed her hand on Fessyk’s shoulder. He reached up, gripping her fingers in what looked like reassurance.
Strange. This whole interaction is strange.The majority of conversations between her and her uncle were the exchange of awkward pleasantries. What could he want?
