Page 23
Torvo grasped my shoulders and shook my lightly. “We will slip out then, cloaked in illusion to retrieve Rivven, then leave. Rune can leave an illusion behind of the two of us, so no one suspects.”
It was a decent plan. Father would be happy and comforted that things were going his way. He’d never expect Leuruna to do something so brazen as try to run. Though gods only knew how long Rivven could stay alive in the dungeons.
I drew in a deep breath then nodded my ascent. Even if Torvo was lying to Rune about his feelings, we all needed her to believe in herself, and as much as I hated it, this was the most likely way to make that happen.
Eleven
Leuruna
“Isee having a lover has emboldened you,” Father said as we stood on my balcony, overlooking the preparations.
He’d wanted to expose me to the crowd since he knew I tended to shy away in public gatherings. And indeed, I’d never seen the like, with visitors from both Tromodia and Astridon having started arriving for the full week of promised celebrations. Though it was overwhelming to my senses with all the chatter of excited conversation and the swirls of color and myriad of different people. But somehow the scene hadn’t sent me spiraling or retreating like father had rightfully suspected.
No, this time it felt…separate. It was as though someone had put an invisible curtain between me and the crop of wealthy people father had seen fit to invite in order to make a show of the union. And I knew without a doubt that as long as Torvo was beside me, it wouldn’t matter if a thousand people gathered around. I’d feel safe and protected. I smiled a little, lifting my chin as I looked out over the melee.
Father was right, I had become braver. And he should be afraid. Because once we’d regrouped, Torvo and I would be the new leaders of the three kingdoms. We’d unite them all as one and rule the way the gods intended. They’d never have to worry about humans with too much power again. I’d prove that I could handle it. I’d be the model queen with Torvo by my side. But to do that, I had to find a way to set Nyah free.
“Thank you, Father. I am happy to fulfill my duty to you and the kingdom,” I recited.
“Splendid,” he said, but the swirl of violet in his oily eyes made my throat dry up.
Glancing over his shoulder as he guided me back to my armchair near the fire, I found the room empty of others.
“Where’s Torvo?” I asked, trying to hide the quiver in my voice. “We should greet the new nobles that have arrived.”
Father shoved me none too gently into the chair and leaned over me, raising his staff with the crystal on the top already glowing the same violet I saw in his irises. “You will join him as soon as we’re done here.”
“It tires me so.” I flinched after the words escaped, expecting the back of his hand to answer. Instead, he smiled, which made him look like a viper preparing to strike. I might have preferred him to hit me.
“Just a bit then. You can lean on your soon-to-be husband. After all, this is part of your duty to me you are so eager to fulfill.”
Then the crystal made contact with my forehead, and all thought ceased as my magic flared to life, scorching its way from my center, through my skin, and to the staff. Pain seized me in its familiar grip as I fought to catch my breath. The stone stole my power, proving as greedy as my father. It did not pause to allow me a moment to collect myself.
But it never had.
Screams died before they could make it up my throat. I didn’t have energy enough to expend as I arched toward the sharp point where it fed. I’d grown complacent with the tiny bit of freedom I’d been allowed with Torvo—the distraction from my father’s visits. The reprieve had been only another illusion.
With a single tug, Father released the connection, and I fell back in the chair, spent. Instead of looking away as I usually did, I watched as the now vibrant purple swirled in an arc between the stone and my father, making his eyes glow. My stomach churned with the knowledge that it was my own magic. It felt like a piece of me had been carved from my soul, and I wiped at my face with the back of a hand as he grinned and patted my head. As though I were a well-behaved child—or dog. I did look away then, quickly so that he wouldn’t see the spite on my face. He needed to believe I was still complacent. He needed to allow the wedding to move forward.
“Fix yourself. You look a mess, and the prince is waiting.” His lip curled in disdain when I chanced a glance.
I stood on somewhat shaky legs, leaning on the back of the chair for support as I made my way toward my vanity, where I fell onto the small velvet pink chair and blinked at my appearance.
Quickly, I patted ivory powder on my cheeks to hide the blotchiness, then swept a hand over my eyes to add an illusion covering the smudged coal and bloodshot whites rather than waste valuable time I could be spending with Torvo. Finally, I brushed my hair back and twisted it into a reasonable style. All the while, the mirror exposed Father’s steady gaze from his spot at the side of the hearth, half-hidden in flexing shadows.
When I’d finished, he strode forward and waved his staff in a circular motion, conjuring a crown of sparkling diamonds and garnets the color of blood. He placed it on my head, then smiled down at me.
“This was your mother’s coronation crown,” he said, with no discernable emotion.
Swallowing, I stood, still a bit lightheaded. But he offered an arm for me, and though I did not want to touch him, I forced myself to rest my palm on top, then managed a soft, “Thank you, Father.”
He patted my hand and led me from the room to where Torvo stopped mid-pace behind three trembling guards. He spun toward us, eyes locked on me. His face morphed instantly from one of barely controlled rage to concern as he drank me in from head to toe and back again, then nodded as though satisfied. Only then did he acknowledge my father with a forced smile. It was nothing like the real ones he shared with me when we were alone.
“I trust you are ready to meet the dignitaries from Tromodia?” Father said, not to me, but to Torvo. Never mind that I was the heir.
“Yes, Sire.” Torvo bowed slightly with a flourish of his burgundy cape, then offered his arm.
Hurriedly, I switched to his side, stepping in close. His scent of sunshine buoyed my resolve, and I found both my balance and stomach a bit more stable than it had been since father’s assault on my magic.
