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Graeson sighed. This had always been the fear. None of the Pontians knew how the Ardentolian king had convinced the world that Kalisandre was his daughter. Since the Pontians were separated from the rest of Vaneria, whatever mind trick Domitius had used to convince the rest of the kingdoms had not infiltrated the Pontian borders. Now, not only did they have to save Kalisandre, but they also had to convince the people, who had been told a lie that spanned decades, to believe the truth. And for that to happen, Graeson would need to divulge secrets that were not his own.
“Queen Esmeray and Domitius have a long, complicated background,” he said.
“Don’t we all have complicated backgrounds?” Cetia mused with a lilt in her voice.
A few warriors snorted, the single break in the women’s otherwise blank expressions.
Graeson nodded in agreement. “Without a doubt, Your Majesty.”
“You hesitate, Graeson.” A statement, not a question.
“I do, but not lightly,” Graeson explained. “You see, Your Majesty, it is not my story to tell.”
“If you wish for my people’s help, which I assume is the true reason you are here, I must know all the facts. Do you not agree?”
“Of course, Your Majesty.” Graeson’s gaze flicked to the dozens of women lining the wall.
“Leave us,” Cetia said with a flick of her hand.
On command, the women snapped their feet together in unison. They turned to their queen, bowing low, and formed two lines as they left the room. The last to leave shut the doors behind them.
Ellie, another warrior, and Loralaine—who was still asleep—were the only Tetrians remaining alongside their queen.
Graeson nodded at the queen in gratitude. “We appreciate you respecting our privacy. As you know, we Pontians are protective of our kingdom’s information.”
“Understandably so.” Leaning back on her throne, Cetia scraped a nail along the bark of the oak tree. “Although, know this: we often keep secrets to protect, but more often than not, secrets tend to hurt those we are trying to keep safe. Be wary of whose secrets you carry, Graeson.”
His lips twitched. While there may have been some truth to the queen’s words, some secrets would do more harm than good if they became common knowledge.
As lonely as it might have been for Graeson to keep them.
Still, Graeson pressed onward, revealing Esmeray’s truth, for there was no other way. “Years ago, before my time and before the queen took her title, Esmeray was more adventurous. Before she took her crown, she wanted to travel and see the seven kingdoms of Vaneria. If she wished to rule justly and fairly, she believed that one must see the world and see how others govern their people.
“During one of her trips across the sea, Esmeray met Domitius for the first time. Young, unmarried, and not yet tethered to the throne, both were full of hopes, dreams, and promises of brighter days. They spent months together, and soon, they fell in love. However, there came a time when Esmeray had to make a choice: stay with Domitius and leave her people behind, or leave the man she thought was the one her soul longed for. In the end, they parted ways. According to Esmeray, Domitius did not take their separation easily. When she left, he believed that Esmeray had lied to him, that she had tricked him.” Graeson gritted his teeth. “Over a decade later, Pontia was attacked, her husband killed, and her daughter stolen.”
“Esmeray believes it was Domitius who attacked before?” Cetia asked.
Graeson nodded.
“Because of a broken heart?” Cetia questioned, the disbelief apparent in her voice.
“We do not fully understand why he attacked us or why he took my sister,” Terin interjected. “All we know is that he did.”
“While thewhyis indeed important, what I wish to know, children, is how you know it was him? Whatproofdo you have?”
Graeson stepped forward, and silver flashed in the last of the golden light as the two warriors unsheathed their swords.
So much for being old friends,Graeson thought, gawking at Ellie.
Ellie tipped her chin at him.
He shook his head in dismay, but he didn’t back down. “He wore the helmet of the bull.”
“You mean to tell me the king of Ardentol worehishelmet, a piece of armor unique to him and only him in an attack that breaks the one-hundred-year-old treaty?” Cetia sat forward. “Why would he do that? Although stubborn, crude, and most definitely egotistical, the man is not imprudent. You must be mistaken. You were young, an easy mistake,” she said with a flick of her hand.
Graeson gritted his teeth. “He did it, Your Majesty, because he wanted us to know it was him. He wanted Esmeray to know who had attacked her kingdom, whom she had made an enemy of. Domitius wanted her to know that even though she did not choose him all those years ago, she was still his to take, his to hurt. That he had not forgotten their past even if she had.”
Cetia scoffed. “This is why I never understood the customs of the other kingdoms. Marriage, whether for alliance or love, is still a social construct that is, in fact, meaningless. Why subject yourself to one partner when your heart changes as you grow? It only complicates things and creates a mess for you to clean up later.” She lifted her head, staring at the windows across the room.
