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I crossed the room and placed one palm on the side of her face, the other over the anguished beat of her heart.
The touch surged her pulse to her throat. Beneath my palms, the beat throbbed, but Livia didn’t pull back from me, she even tilted her face to my palm, as though leaning into my touch.
“You are Livia Ferus,” I whispered, “daughter of warriors, princess of earth magic, rebuker of the Ever King—”
She let out a snort. “Why does your voice help?”
I brushed a thumb over her cheekbone, wiping away a tear. “This fear takes your thoughts, and I won’t tell you not to let it; things are never so simple. But I will remind you of who you are, for you are a formidable foe.”
She lifted her glassy eyes to mine. “My mother always told me to breathe deeply.”
“Does that help?”
Livia hesitated. “Not the way you do, and I think I hate you for it. You should be horrid all the time.”
“I’ll try harder, Songbird.”
Her smile was pinched, and her chin quivered. I didn’t know what kind of magic or games of fate were at play here, but I would find out now.
“The mantle was a gift for my father from Narza,” I said. “It was a gift to enhance the power of the Ever King. Should it be conquered or lost, the mantle could not be taken back for ten turns. All I could do was wait to challenge his killer.
“My uncle took particular care in preparing me to do so during the great war, but . . .” I shook my head. She couldn’t know what I’d done during the war. “There wasn’t an opportunity before I was locked in a cell.”
Livia placed her hands on my waist, almost like she wished to embrace me, but thought better of it.
“When the Chasm opened, I thought it was fate granting me a new opportunity, but I found you instead.” I softened my tone. “Where is my father’s mantle, Songbird?”
Her breath hitched. “Erik, I—”
“Where is it?” I already knew. Truth was written in the furrow of her brow, in the way she dropped her gaze to the floor.
“Please don’t hurt them because of me.” Her voice quivered.
“Where is it, love?”
Livia tightened her grip on my waist. “It’s gone. That night, that last night when I showed it to you, I tripped on my way back and . . . it shattered.”
I closed my eyes, throat tight, and let my forehead drop to hers. “What else?”
“The mark came right after,” she said. “I never told anyone except my cousin that it appeared because I broke the talisman. I even replaced the original with a wrapped gold plate. A plate, and still no one noticed. No one even looked. Despite what you think, it is not a proud thing for my folk. It is a painful symbol of an unwanted war.”
My father’s mantle, his true power, was gone. Games of the fates were in full bloom, and something new had been shaped from it.
“I knew the Ever would heal if I found the power of the king again,” I said softly. “I was right.”
Livia’s brows tugged together. “It’s broken. I’m . . . I’m sorry, Erik.”
“I thought it was my father’s power calling me through, butyoucalled to me. You are drawn to the sea; you’re drawn to the Ever, to me.”
Livia visibly paled. “What are you saying?”
I touched my thumb to her bottom lip, tracing the gentle lines. “I foundmymantle, Songbird. It’s you.”
I paused for half a breath, then I kissed her.
CHAPTER25
The Songbird
