Theo turned away, muscles tensed as he fidgeted with the leather coverings around his wrists. “Her history lesson is over. Take her back to her room.”
Manos did as he was instructed. Helaina could do nothing but reluctantly follow. She had escaped Oakmire only to find herself with another escort, another guard.
This was not salvation. She would never know the meaning of the word.
Manos paused in the doorway to her room as she sank down on her bed, her leg aching from the walk. Those shadowed eyes gave her a once-over. “You can’tundofate, Helaina. You can accept it, or try to change it. Running from it just delays the inevitable. We don’t know the plan; we only know the east is stirring, that they are stealing lives for a purpose. We fear war is near. For the first time in our histories, the Divine might not be enough to stop what’s coming.”
She grew angry. Why her? Why should any of this have to rest on her shoulders?
“The ghosts that haunt you... leave them in the past,” Manos said. “You think you owe the dead a debt? Pay it by saving liveshere, and now.”
“You know nothing about me or what I’ve lost,” she seethed.
He Tapped his temple as if reminding her. “Oh, I think I do.”
Such an intrusive trick, to climb into her thoughts and suddenly think he understood her.
He paused and gestured with his head to the corner of the room. “When you’re ready to train, knock on Theo’s door.”
“I haven’t decided anything.”
“Yes, you have.”
Before she could reply, he was gone, the sound of his boots clacking on hard stone faded in the distance.
She breathed her anger out through her nose, remembering Adriel’s tricks to help deter her emotions from getting the best of her.
Fight or flee. She only had two paths to choose from.
This was what Adriel had prepared her for, to somehow prove the prophecy wrong, to make her own destiny. She released a guttural cry and shoved the entire empty tray to the floor, shattering more porcelain dishes over the other broken pieces.
Weakness and running were what got Krysta killed.
Weakness was what made Adriel slip into his addiction.
Weakness could no longer be her course of action.
Manos was right, she’d already decided.
Fight.
CHAPTERTWENTY-SEVEN
BEFORE
Helaina loved her siblings’ stories of the neighboring countries. They were so much better than the written accounts in her books. It was a favorite pastime to hear the tales of their journeys. Krysta talked about Creston the most, its white sandy shores and fishing towns. Their royal family were descendants of Kydon. His bloodline had always ruled the territory that bordered the Sea God’s ocean.
Krysta’s betrothal to their prince was publicly announced. Ildhor and Krysta had been matched for some time now, and every time Krysta returned from Creston, she made the kingdom sound like a dream.
“All those white sails on the water, Laina. I can’t take my eyes off the shores when I’m there. It’s like staring at a sky full of clouds,” her sister had marveled and let out a whimsical sigh. “I wish they would have let you come this time... I’m sorry. I shouldn’t say these things. I know how you feel about?—”
Helaina held up a hand, telling her to stop. “It makes me happy to hear you speak of your new home like that. It sounds like you will be very happy there.”
Helaina had stopped fighting, stopped pushing for answers. It caused a pang of hurt in her chest to know Krysta would soon be moving. Helaina knew she would never leave her fully. Krysta would visit, and she would always have Adriel. She had her horses, her work with the healers, and Dolion.
“Maybe when you’re married, Father will take me to visit...” It was a joke to say it, but it was a nice thought to voice aloud. To think of the salty air filling her nose, the grainy sand between her toes.
Krysta’s eyes went grim. Helaina hated that look.
