Page 47 of Crown of the Dunes

Those were some of the first words Neven had spoken to me after my long journey to the Great City. It was the promise that had led me here and the thing that made me love Kelvadan even when something in me itched for the open desert—the seductive call of a home for one who had never had one before.

“I think it’s time we adopt this idea of political prisoners.” I uncrossed my arms. “And I’ll be happy to negotiate with both Doran and Viltov after the queen’s funeral.”

There was no use putting the ambassadors off now, as the queen had only been avoiding seeing them directly to avoid the extent of her illness. With Izumi leading the clans and Kelvadan’s grain stores dwindling by the day, the favor of the ambassadors was more critical than ever.

“I will be holding you to that,” General Warrick said, his rumbling voice pitched low, and he turned and strode off down the hallway. Before he turned a corner out of sight, he looked back over his shoulder, and his eyes narrowed at the way Prince Calix had lingered.

I too looked at the prince curiously.

He shrugged at the question in my eyes. “I wanted to check on you.”

“On me?” I repeated somewhat dumbly.

“I hadn’t seen you since that day in the fields…” He trailed off, raking a hand through his already perpetually mussed hair.

My fingers twisted the end of the sash around my waist, and I made a concerted effort to relax them, pressing my palms against my thighs.

“The display of stopping the avalanche was quite something,” he admitted. “I was afraid it might have left you indisposed. Worn out.”

I blinked. “Oh. No. I seem to have the opposite problem with harnessing the power of the desert.”

Something flashed behind his eyes, and I bit my tongue. Admitting to a shortage of control did not befit a queen. I had seen Dryden fighting for the clans in the courtyard yesterday. No doubt being on the receiving end of an outburst of my power had convinced him to back somebody—anybody else for the throne of Kelvadan. So, I would bury the snarling, snapping exile if that’s what it took to truly earn the people’s acceptance.

Calix’s expression though, was only curious. “Seeing you and your people so close to your home, able to harness the power it carries, makes me wistful that Viltov has become so distant from the strength of the ocean.”

I furrowed my brow. “The ocean?”

Calix sighed, leaning back on the wall behind him and propping up one foot. His casual posture made me smile; he did not seem to treat me differently now that I was queen, for which I was grateful.

“Stories say that hundreds of years ago, those who sailed between the islands of Viltov had a similar relationship with the sea that the clansmen have with the desert. Certain people could call on the strength hidden in its depths and navigate the waves with legendary skill. Some say they would even use it to fight.” Calix’s expression seemed wistful.

“Of course, we’ve been at war with Doran on and off for two hundred years now. While most of those fights occur on the mainland, our soldiers are certainly not using any powers of the ocean. My father, the king, discounts that such a power ever existed in the first place, choosing to pour his efforts and his treasury into inventing machines of war and science that can be brought to bear on our enemies.”

“And what do you think?” I asked, drawn in by his tale of those who traveled the waves the way riders traversed the dunes. As queen, I might not be able to leave the city for long enough to cross the desert and see the ocean. My heart cracked a little at the thought.

Calix smiled crookedly, revealing that one of his canine teeth had been chipped. “I’ve experienced enough things in my travels to convince me there are things about the sea that science can’t explain—that something beyond human lurks in her depths. At times, I thought it might be my overactive imagination thinking the power of the ocean could be harnessed once more. After watching you stop a mountain from falling, though…” He shrugged again.

“I hope Viltov can connect with the power of the ocean once more,” I said earnestly.

“And I hope I can learn something about how to reconnect with her power from the people of the Ballan Desert.”

I tilted my head at him curiously, but he pushed off the wall and sauntered down the hallway. With a shake of my head, I reminded myself that now was not the time to ponder the plights of Viltov and Doran. A long day with the Archons stood ahead of me.

A familiar arm tightened around my waist. I scooted closer to the warmth at my back, even though it made me frown.

“Am I dreaming?” I asked, interweaving my fingers with the callused hand splayed across my belly.

Erix grunted in affirmation, sounding sleepy. “It’s the first bit of actual sleep I’ve had since I got here. All the stone makes me restless.”

The furrow between my brows deepened as I thought on his words. I was dreaming that I was sleeping in my own bed in the palace. In the waking world, Erix was likely laying in a bed a few levels away from me. I twisted in his arms so I could see his face, and he cracked a bleary eye at me. My heart skipped a beat at the sight of his high cheekbones and strong jaw, accentuated by the shadows of the dim light in the hour just before dawn.

“It seems silly that you did so much to get to me and we’re still having to meet in our dreams,” I murmured.

“Everything is always complicated in this palace,” he murmured back. “It’s not like it is out in the dunes. It’s hard to worry about politics when you’re so busy figuring out how to survive.” He grunted as if remembering a rather unfunny joke. “Although politics found their way to me there too. They seem to be a hazard of leadership.”

“I never wanted to lead. I’m still not sure I do,” I admitted quietly, speaking the words into Erix’s chest, and he tightened his grip around me. “I just wanted to help.”

“I feared being king more than almost anything. It’s what scared me right into the arms of a tyrant. Because if he was willing to lead, then I didn’t have to. But he’s gone now, and I have nobody to blame for my failures but myself.”