Page 59 of Tale of the Heart Queen

“It’s going to be okay,” she says.

“I don’t think it is.”

“It will be. Whatever is on the other side of this might not look exactly as you envisioned, but everything will work out. One way or another.”

I run a hand down my face. “You really believe that?”

“I know it seems hopeless right now, but we’ll figure this out.”

“We?” I ask.

She shrugs. “I’m in the middle of this now, and I like to see my way to the end of things.”

She blinks up at me with those big green eyes, and for the first time in as long as I can remember, something stirs in the hollowed-out recesses of my heart.

Gods, this is truly the last fucking thing I need right now.

CHAPTER 23

NADIR

THE EVANESCENCE

Ipace the length of my room, feeling like a wild animal tethered inside a cage. I can’t tell how long I’ve been up here, but it feels like it’s been months. I’m invited to dinner every night while Zerra makes lewd comments loaded with innuendos. She seems convinced that because this King Herric was her lover, I, too, will succumb to her advances. In fact, I get the unsettling sense she thinks I’ll replace whatever role he once played in her life.

I’ve been doing my best to play nice during our dinners, attempting to lull her into a false sense of security. She’s revealed a few things as a result. Like the fact she sent Lor on a mission to retrieve the ark of Alluvion.

But that information only adds to my confusion. Why would Lor agree to that? I’m not sure I even believe it. If Lor had the choice, she would have gone to find Willow and Tristan. Unless Zerra is holding something over her. I wonder if it might have something to do with me, but Zerra doesn’t seem inclined to ever let me out of here.

I also get the sense she doesn’t like Lor, thanks to a regular stream of underhanded comments that make me see red, but I can’t begin to figure out why. What could Lor have possibly done to make Zerra dislike her so much?

Beyond that, I’ve learned a bit more about the Empyrium and my ancestor, King Herric, who was indeed the first king of the Second Age, but something happened to him that Zerra hasn’t yet revealed. It does seem clear that he hurt her, but given the way she’s treated me, I’m not all that inclined to feel much sympathy. Something tells me I would have sided with him.

The “wedding” is coming up, and it’s imperative I get out of here before then. Not only does the idea make my skin crawl, but she’s made it clear that once it takes place, she’ll be coming for my . . . body. I shudder at the idea of becoming like one of her servants who move about this place like soulless ghosts, trapped here forever.

I rub my chest and the constant ache that blooms behind my ribs. I miss Lor like I miss air. I want to hold her in my arms and bury my nose in the scent of her hair. Inhale that combination of roses and lightning that always makes me feel like I’ve come home. I miss her skin and those eyes that see me in a way no one else ever has. I miss that mouth and her sarcasm, and I’d give anything to have her yell at me right now.

I touch the window, pressing against it with all my strength, already knowing it’s useless. Zerra made a comment about requiring a sacrifice to destroy her palace, and I’ve yet to puzzle it out. After our first dinner, Zerra returned my magic, but I quickly understood it’s to remind me that it has no power here. That I have no power here.

It seems to only work alone in my room, and I’ve tried using it to free myself in every form I can manage—with every ounce of strength I possess—but it makes no difference. I’m losing my mind, stuck in this place.

I need Lor.

A knock at my door stops me in my tracks. I’ve learned to dread that sound, knowing I’m about to be dragged to yet another uncomfortable dinner. They don’t wait for my answer. The door swings open as two of Zerra’s minions enter.

They both wear gowns of light, almost sheer material that floats around them and drapes to the floor. Their shiny hair is curled and pinned, and their faces are painted with artful lines of black around their eyes, their lids and cheeks dusted with shimmering powder. It’s become obvious Zerra doesn’t like anything to be less than shiny and perfect in her presence.

“Her Majesty requests you for dinner,” says the one on the left, her voice distant and hollow. Her name is Tia. She dips into a curtsy, and I repress a long, exhausted sigh.

“She’s asked you to wear this,” says the other. Her name is Diana, and she holds out a silver jacket embroidered with glittering stones along the collar and cuffs. It’s the height of tacky and ostentatious. Even if it weren’t, I don’t want anything from this goddess.

Still, I’m trying not to make too many waves that will either get me killed or prevent my escape. In fact, I’ll keep playing the willing captive, hoping to glean more information from her. Zerra seems inclined to see what she wants to see, so I don’t have to pretend too hard. I roll my neck, working out the tension that wrenches on my muscles, and grit out a stiff smile.

“Thank you,” I say, and Diana holds it open for me.

I walk over and slip my arms into the sleeves before she shrugs it onto my shoulders, smoothing them down.

“That fits you very nicely. Her Majesty will be pleased,” Tia says, and I grunt.