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Lira resented me for our forced marriage and hated me for the choices I’d made and the hurt I’d caused her. The misery of it ached through me. However, the zevars’ cords tangled between my fingers, the Memoria Globe rested in my bag, and we stood a few dozen steps from home. I couldn’t explain why it didn’t hold the relief the sight of the city normally offered me. It was as though my center had shifted in my time away.
Morning mist hung along the edges of the wall. “We’ll go the back way,” I said to the group over my shoulder.
That surprised no one except Ishir whose eyebrows dimpled his forehead. This was his first mission with us, so he didn’t understand like the others. He’d done well, though, according to Neia. Perhaps he’d wish to join us as we continued gathering the heart stones. I’d have to discuss that with him, and Shaan—since they were close friends—later. I couldn’t gauge Lira’s reaction. Her pale hair whipped around the creamy dress Elisa had offered her that morning. It made her look like a spirit floating in the morning mist. Untouchable.
I swallowed hard as I led the group along the wall to a sealed door. I removed my zevar and pressed it against the stone. It shifted, magic glittering over the bricks as they peeled apart. Lira gasped, and it drew my attention to her again.
She was all I could think of.
Lira fierce as she faced her mother, angry when she realized who I was beneath the glamour of the guard, and devastated when I’d said marrying me was her only option for escape.
I clenched my teeth, ducked into the tunnel, and waited until all the members of the group made it inside before sealing the passage and leading everyone up and out another door.
We exited into an alley where someone had piled banana leaves in a corner. In the distance cows bellowed over the rumble of thousands of fairies moving through the city. Carts’ wheels clicked along the stone. A faint trail of music whispered past the rest of the ruckus.
I nodded towards the alley and Luz led the way, a sway in their hips. Neia and Elisa curled towards each other. Ishir kept his sharp guard’s training in place even as Orman relaxed and tucked his knife into the back of his waistband. The team was tired. We all needed a break and a decent night’s sleep.
We made it a few more blocks before we approached hundreds of barrels stacked in the walkway. Neia turned back to face me. “Well?”
“Damn it.” Store owners weren’t supposed to obstruct this path, but someone had filled half a block, and there was no way to pass it without damaging their goods. Everyone looked at me including Lira with her pale blue eyes. I wish I had words to apologize to her, to ask her if we could try again. Not as a husband and wife—that vow was necessary for me to keep my word to her and help her get away from her mother and King Carrington. We weren’t close to that level, yet. Maybe we could attempt to reconcile and try again if she’d give me a chance, though. My body ached with the desire for that, like my bones would crumble if she rejected me, as if I couldn’t continue life without her at my side.
“Fine.” I gestured out to the main roads.
Neia shrugged and slung her arm around Elisa’s shoulders.
“Can we try to be inconspicuous?” The team ignored me as they moved onto the main road.
“Why?” Lira asked.
It was the first thing she’d said to me since our marriage vows, and the gentleness in her voice startled me. It reminded me of meeting her. She’d seemed so frightened and in need of protection. I’d missed the powers within her. I’d missed that she was someone I could trust. “It’s just… easier that way,” I finally answered and broke her eye contact before stepping out into the busy street.
The time for hiding my reality had passed. She’d soon know my reputation. I was sure that would scrape away whatever dregs of admiration she held for me with her dislike ofdarkmagic. Damn the Seelie and their hateful beliefs. Lira trailed alongside me but didn’t attempt to pick up a conversation as she took in the sights of the city.
Her eyes widened as she watched the carts trundling along, oxen driving them, fairies veering around, food vendors setting up their stands for the day, a massive fountain burbling in the center of a square, birds preening themselves along the intricate stone arches of the buildings.
Lira lifted her face as a flock of blush-colored doves flew across the glare of the sunrise, their feathers gleaming.
We made it nearly to the palace gates before someone looked at me and jerked their head back. “Raja-kumara!” The woman prostrated herself against the ground.
Others around noticed and dropped as well. The man nearest us tripped over pots he had set out on the sidewalk and stumbled into a kneeling position. “Raja-kumara! Forgive me.” He pressed his hands together but trembled.
“Let’s go.” I picked up the pace, and the group hustled alongside me.
“They’re afraid of you,” Lira said, her voice breathy. “Aren’t they?”
A dark feeling sank my heart in my chest. “Yes.”
“Why?”
“It’s complicated.” It wasn’t, really. I just didn’t want to discuss it. The Prasanna world was a delicate one. We’d scarcely avoided destruction in the war a century before. My mother and grandfather had made it their life’s work to restore our court, reunite the fae, and avoid the Seelie’s maliciousness. They were successful at many of their goals, then Mother had given birth to a young prince who had more magic than he knew how to manage. Magic that wasn’t Prasanna, at that. Even in a world where our people embraced magic, having a child possessed with unheard of powers that could unfurl shadows and unwind an entire day of memories in the kingdom of tens of thousands—and all by accident—left the Prasanna wary. My parents had quelled most concerns and assured me that my magic was a blessing. It didn’t change the rumors though, or the way others learned to fear me before I’d even come of age. The feeling most Prasanna held for me was one of respect, but the kind rooted in fear. I despised it.
Lira looked ready to ask more questions, but we reached the gates where guards bowed and ushered us up steps. Drums sounded–announcing our arrival. Lira surveyed the palace grounds with widening eyes. Pools of water reflected the pink of the sky. Grebes landed on them, breaking the crystal surfaces and stirring up the mist that hovered before the ivory, dome-topped edifice of the palace. I sometimes forgot what an imposing and impressive sprawl of architecture the place was. It had survived the war and held thousands of years of Prasanna legacy, art, and culture. Lira looking at it with fresh eyes, hunching away from it as her mouth gaped, made me see it anew.
There wasn’t time to offer a comment as we strode along the path to the beat of the drums. The code for my name was in their rhythm–a rapid tum, tum, drum–letting the entire guard know Prince Sai had returned. We continued along the grand halls, and finally into the throne room defined by vaulted ceilings and intricately painted tiles that covered the floors and walls. Thanks to the drums, instead of informally returning home, we now stood before my family who were all dressed for court alongside dozens of royal officials.
Mother sat on her throne in the center, wearing an embroidered crimson and teal sari, her zevar resting between her collarbones and a jeweled headpiece sparkling over her forehead. Father sat on her left, and Amyra—as the heir to Mother’s throne—perched on the seat to her right. I skimmed over the richly dressed group until my gaze landed on Shaan. He gave me a subtle nod then bowed his head to break eye contact.
My heart ached, and I longed to catch him before he slipped away again. He’d been scarce ever since he’d returned from his time spent with Lennox and the bastard’s betrayal. The weight of both of their zevars and Shaan’s vindication rested in my pocket. I grazed my hand over it as we approached the throne, then I noticed Lira.
