Page 54 of Prince of the Phantom Sky

“We cannot do anything until he recovers, Father,” Skylar spoke gently, reaching round a vacant throne to rest her hand on Zephyr’s shoulder. He briefly touched it, his weathered face crinkling with the smallest of smiles at his daughter, before removing her hand.

“How long has he slept?”

“Two weeks. He shows no signs of awakening,” a voice squeaked from the right side of the room. Kora squinted against the sun—a healer. She recognised them from their daily visits.

Erick had been in a coma for two weeks.

Kora’s mind spun. She’d been so selfish again, crying into her cloud-like luxury pillows whilst he’d suffered. She’d been fearing her dreams, when his had been stolen. She hadn’t visited him once, unable to face him, or the truths that may have spilled from his lips. Except this whole time he’d been on the cusp of death, incapable of granting her the answers.

She was still a fool.

Raiden twitched. “You needed to recover. You can’t be there for everyone.”

Frustration boiled into anger at the connection burning between her and Raiden. At how in-tune he was to her feelings. Why did he even care? Why was he trying to console her when he’d made it clear she needed fixing. A broken thing to mend into something—someone else. To erase her identity and replace it with someone pretty and shiny new.

Well, fuck this.

Kora stormed forward and audible gasps rang from the crowd on the right. Raiden immediately straightened, the tendons in his neck pulsing as Kora stopped at his side, glaring up at Zephyr. Was he a king? Was she supposed to bow? She didn’t care, and straightened her spine further before lifting her chin in defiance. Zephyr’s gaze whipped to her scar, his mouth sneering, which only incensed her red haze, demanding retribution for daring to stare.

“Bow before he makes you,” Raiden urged, a rare tremble overcoming him.

Kora didn’t move. She met Zephyr’s doe-like stare, so eerily similar to his children beside him. His jaw ground as he waited for Kora to bow, but instead, she folded her arms before popping her hip, recalling her captain’s flourish. He was no king of hers. He clearly ruled with an iron fist, and his dark eyes caused revulsion to boil within Kora, as though he internally taunted her with his desire to sentence Erick.

The throne to Zephyr’s right caught her eye. Identical to the one he lounged in, but empty except for a glistening palladium crown and a single, purple iris flower.

Zephyr raised one finger and a crushing current of air swept over her. Kora groaned as her knees buckled, but she still refused to bow, forcing herself to keep her spine straight. Her body wasn’t fully healed yet, her bones still brittle, and every second she spent resisting his power, the agony increased tenfold. Zephyr’s stare darkened and he raised a second finger. Kora cried out as her knees slammed into the carpet, a band of air strapping across her back, forcing her head to the ground.

“Stop!” Raiden yelled.

“Do not speak to me,” Zephyr replied with as much enthusiasm as a bilge rat.

“Enough, Your Highness,” Aryn’s wise voice echoed around the room as he appeared at Kora’s side. Within a moment, Zephyr’s magic ceased and Kora sucked in a shaky breath, her limbs quivering. His power rivalled Barron’s, his manipulation of the wind reminding her of Barron’s inky, dark tentacles snaking around her until she could no longer breathe.

She choked down a growl. She’d once been at the mercy of males choking her, now they manipulated her with their magic. Forcing her body to yield, to succumb because they saw her either as a weapon, or their enemy.

Kora would prove to them all that she was so much more. That she didn’t need a male’s approval, that nothing would stand in her way of protecting those she loved, and ensuring the darkness infecting the islands would be burned into Umbra and beyond.

“She disrespects Haizea’s heir. She must be punished,” Hector spat from his side of the chamber. Kora reined in her distress at the thought of being shackled once again. Aryn glared across the room, and Kora wrinkled her nose at the pirate who’d made it his personal mission to ruin her.

Zephyr waved a hand and Hector’s mouth slammed shut. “Do not forget your place, Hector. You may be King of Pirates, but I am King of Galen. I offered your people sanctuary on my island as a new home, to coincide peacefully. It does not mean you have the right to authority within my royal chamber.”

Raiden’s fists clenched beside Kora as she wrapped a hand around Aryn’s surprisingly strong arm, using his body for stability as she continued to tremble. Yet, something about what Zephyr mentioned sparked in the back of her mind. Peril Cove had fallen over two hundred years ago . . .

“Your Majesty,” Hector hesitated, glancing at the three of them on the carpet. “I’d never cross that line. She’s not the same as she once was, she must be contained. She’s stolen from us.”

The tremors grew violent and Aryn leaned closer, amber and cypress washing over Kora.

She was safe. She wasn’t with Barron. She wasn’t in a dungeon.

Just breathe.

“Are you a healer, Hector? Do you understand the complexities of the mind? No, you do not. Remember, we have all lost something.” Zephyr’s fingers brushed the throne beside him. His gaze swivelled back to her and she tried not to vomit from the weight of it. “Now, what do you wish to say, Kordelia Jones?”

“I’m here to represent Erick Cadell as his next of kin. I will speak for him.” Relief sang through her at the clarity of her voice as she ignored the sting of her old name.

Zephyr sat back, an amused curve playing with his lips. “You desire to maintain your relationship to the male who destroyed your life?”

“Erick has proven his loyalty. He kept me alive for ten years . . . I could’ve ended up in Barron’s clutches instead. He hid me for as long as possible, trained me to survive. He atoned daily for his actions, and he’s suffered enough already.” Kora glanced at the pirates in the room. Had one of them killed Eleanore? Had any of these people been involved in the rebel’s retaliatory attack?