Page 23 of Crown of the Dunes

“I am still capable of ruling this city,” she announced, her tone brooking no argument.

Despite the fact that her flowing dress hung off her shoulders, much thinner than they had been, she still held them with a decidedly regal bearing.

“This city is also home to many other capable people, who would never let it fall into enemy hands,” Queen Ginevra continued. “Aderyn commands Kelvadan’s riders as well as she ever has. And our very own Champion, Keera, has proven herself capable of protecting this Great City from threats of all kinds, from grasping lords to threats of nature.”

She gestured back to me, and the eyes of the crowd settled on me like a physical touch. I itched to flinch away, like I had at foreign contact months earlier. Instead, I met the queen’s gaze and saw the plea hidden behind her proud posture.

I took a step forward to stand beside her and Aderyn, squaring my shoulders and tucking my hands into my sash.

More titters ran through the crowd as they took me in. I could almost feel my scars rippling on my skin, and I feared finding pity in their eyes—or even worse, disgust and fear. The expression my parents had worn before riding away from me forever.

Instead, I met the eyes of the group’s leader and found something unexpected: respect. He raised his hands to his temple and tapped his fingers against his brow. In unison, the crowd behind him echoed the action. Rows upon rows of people offered the gesture of reverence without hesitation—to me, a former exile, who still felt like an outcast in so many ways.

A burning lump rose in my throat, so thick it was almost painful. For years, I had ached to belong, and now I would not back away from their respect, as much as it scared me. I refused to squander the faith they had put in me, even if it left me facing down an army led by Erix.

My resolve crystallized, hard as blood glass in my heart as I raised my fingers to my temple and saluted the residents of Kelvadan in return.

I nudged Cail forward at a brisker pace, ready for the hot wind in my face to scour away my tumultuous thoughts. City politics and the constant threat of war overshadowed every other moment of my life these days, but I wouldn’t let it take the peaceful joy of my daily rides from me.

Stump and Calix automatically kept pace next to us, although the gelding did let out a discontented sigh.

As usual, we rode in comfortable silence for a while, the motion lulling me into a sense of relaxation, even though my muscles would still protest mildly when we returned to the stables. Thankfully, Calix seemed to have picked up on my preference for quiet early into his habit of joining me for rides. As thankful as I was that he didn’t interrupt my peace with mindless chatter, I was equally grateful that he still came with me. I had had enough solitude in my life.

I was still wary of him—of the threats still posed by both Doran and Viltov—but he had wormed his way beneath the outermost layer of my distrust after the avalanche. His voice had helped bring me back to myself, and neither fear nor judgement had entered his gaze as he helped me back to the city, covered in dust and grime.

Now, as my breaths came deep and even, I allowed my consciousness to drift toward the shifting well in the pit of my stomach. My mental fingers stroked the living power there hesitantly, and it perked but didn’t lash out.

I let out a quivering breath between my lips.

On horseback was the only time I dared do this. My magic had been relatively dormant since I had returned to Kelvadan, suppressed by pain and sedative draughts, but every day it awakened more within me. Part of me had hoped it would stay asleep, but I also knew I was likely to need its aid in the event of an attack on Kelvadan.

Now though, lyra leaf tea was no longer an option in helping me gain control, and I couldn’t rely on Erix’s touch to pull me back to myself should I lose my way in the tide of magic. It seemed the only time I could draw on it without paralyzing fear of catastrophe was when I rode.

So focused was I on gently dipping my fingers into the current of magic coursing gently within me, that I didn’t realize how far we had ridden until Cail ambled to a stop. We had ridden all the way to the half-decimated grain fields and now were almost back to the city entrance.

“What is all that?” Calix asked, pointing just to the far side of the city’s gate. I followed the line of his arm to a milling crowd outside the walls.

It was my turn to frown. These days, only those who tended the irrigated fields ventured beyond the walls, too scared of an impending attack or the monsters whose return could no longer be denied.

I urged my mare faster, and the wind started carrying angry voices to me. Although I couldn’t make out their words, the harsh tones and cadence of people all talking over each other made the hairs on my arms stand at attention.

As I drew closer, harsh black lines on the wall behind the angry crowd became visible. I squinted as I approached, and the lines formed themselves into words.

I finished reading them a full second before their meaning sank into my mind, slowly, like dry soil packed so tightly it was unable to absorb the occasional rain shower in the desert. When it hit me, I tensed so suddenly that my horse skidded to a stop beneath me, nearly launching me over her neck and onto the ground.

Prince Erix is alive. The Viper is the true heir to Kelvadan.

I murmured the words under my breath, as if that could help me understand how they had come to be here—why anybody would do this.

“The queen has been lying to us!” a voice from the crowd cut through the general chaos, penetrating the storm in my skull.

“She didn’t know!” I shouted.

A hush fell, heavy in the air like the crackle of lightning before a storm. The stillness was only broken by Calix appearing next to me.

He looked at me curiously, a calculating look in his eye that reminded me that he was raised a prince, while there was so much about the games of politics I didn’t understand. I shouldn’t have spoken up, but I couldn’t take my words back now, just like the news getting out that The Viper was Queen Ginevra’s son was irreversible.

Whoever had done this knew the chaos they would unleash—that this would be a rock thrown into a calm pool, causing waves that could not be calmed. They had wanted chaos—the only question was what they stood to gain from it.