City in Ruins (12 page)

“Remember to let go of the pain,” the prince
said, and was gone.

I stumbled to the side of the deck, my hands
fisted against my stomach, the pendant heavy around my neck, my
gaze on the stars.

Weirdly, loss had made me closer to the people
I’d loved in life, creating this invisible connection that seemed
to tie me to the Great Veil, to the beautiful beyond.

The first tear fell, and with it, an exhaled,
“Oh, Aigneis, my heart! It hurts so much.” Maybe, in hindsight, I
should have spoken to my mother or Kye, but in that moment, I
simply wanted to speak to the only mother I’d ever known. I would
have given anything to feel Aigneis’ brush in my hair, to lay back
on the bed in my small room in Forticry, the window open so that
Ari could perch on the sill. I would have given anything for my
broken Henderonian armoire so that I could slide beneath it and
write my name next to Kye’s and next to Cadeyrn’s. Two lives, two
loves, and two hearts. Such different men, but both
scarred.

A sudden thought struck me, and I felt more
tears boiling inside of me, leaving hot tracks down my cheeks when
they finally fell. In retrospect, the war with Raemon, although
devastating and full of heavy loss, had been too easy. We’d
destroyed him, and in the process saved ourselves. However, along
the way, something had changed, something had been thrown off
course for Medeisia. There were ways to make things right, but they
weren’t moral.

The question was: how much was I willing to
risk for my people? How many choices was I willing to make to put
my country back on course? How much of my heart was I willing to
risk? How many people was I willing to hurt? How much was I willing
to ask of the people I fought with? Worse yet, how much of my good
name was I willing to lose?

I’d been dragged into a world of intrigue and
politics where nothing was pretty and nothing was right. I kept
trying to walk the higher ground in a world that had no higher
ground.

I thought of Lochlen, his image stopping my
tears. He was a dragon. He didn’t think the same way humans did.
Dragons lived their lives to survive, to save their race from
extinction. I needed to look at life the same way a dragon
did.

I needed to be a dragon.

With that thought, I left the deck, a terrible
idea forming in my head, the promise of a broken heart in my
future.

Part II

Choices

Chapter 15

It was easier to think a terrible idea than it
was to carry it out. I’d never done anything without a purpose
behind it. This was no different, and yet it was. This choice meant
doing things I couldn’t take back.

From my nights with SeeVan, I knew we were
making port on the Isle of Marr any day now to restock our supplies
before making the final week’s journey to Henderonia. Once we
reached Catriona’s country, I’d be out of time. I had one week to
make this work. It was a good week to do it, the charts right, but
I was hesitant.

The first person I went to see was Reenah.
Cadeyrn trusted her. Whether he wanted to admit it or not, his
esteem for her spoke volumes.

That morning, the rain swept in, the
water pounding the ship. It was an easy rain. The waves the shower
caused were choppy but not concerning, their gentle slapping
against the vessel calming my nerves. I snuck along the decks, not
because I was trying to hide, but because what I was about to ask
made me
want
to
hide. I’d lain awake the night before thinking about my decision,
startling every time my eyes began to close.

“Are you alright?” Maeve had whispered across
from me, her voice weak. It was her feeble words that decided it
for me.

“I’m fine,” I’d answered.

Oran, who’d been lying across my feet, had
peered up at me, his discerning black eyes boring into mine. I’d
feigned sleep, but true rest had never come.

When I arrived at Reenah’s chamber, I was
shaking. My fist met the wood, my knock too loud to my paranoid
ears.

The door swung open to reveal the prince’s
consort, her eyes a circle of surprise when she caught sight of
me.

“Stone,” she greeted.

Breathless, I brushed past her. She’d barely
gotten the door closed when I started speaking, the words ripped
from my throat. She was sitting on her small bed when I finished,
her eyes wider than before.

My shoulders sagged. “You’re judging me,” I
accused.

She sighed. “I’m not in a position to judge
anyone, and truth is, you’re right.” She stared at me, at my bright
eyes and flushed cheeks, and her brows furrowed. “Do you think I’d
say anything? That I’d turn you in?” She stood, her blue eyes
catching mine. “You’re not doing anything a person in power
wouldn’t do. I just hope you realize what it would mean. If you
succeed, you’ll need to be more cautious than ever. Your life will
be at risk. Mixing with the prince has never been safe.”

I took a hesitant step forward. “I’m not safe
now. I’m already marked to die.” In my confession, I’d told her
what I’d discovered about the marks on my wrists.

She reached for her trunk, pulling a royal blue
cloak free of the contents. “Use this,” she insisted. “Your best
chance is in the dark a few hours before dawn. The rain today will
help. Even if they spot land, we’ll be unable to dock at port until
the visibility is better. You won’t have much time.”

Grabbing the cloak, I hurried to the door.
Reenah stopped me. “If you succeed, you’ll need help later. I-I’d
stay with you if you like.”

I gaped at her. “You’d do that?”

She smiled. “You take a great risk. If you’re
willing to make this choice for your people, then I know I’m not
wrong to serve you. I’ve overstayed my welcome in the Sadeemian
court. It’s impossible being a consort to someone who doesn’t need
one. When you’re forced to flee, I’ll flee with you.”

My gaze softened.
“
If
I
succeed.”

Reenah smiled. “You will. The gods go with
you.”

Tremendous gratitude swept me, and I turned to
tug Reenah into an embrace. “Thank you,” I whispered.

Reenah squeezed me. “I am losing myself at
court,” she murmured. “You’d be saving me.”

With those words, she released me. I
stumbled from her chamber, the blue cloak balled up in my hands,
Reenah’s words ringing through my ears.
“The gods go with you.”

Did they? Would the gods agree with my
choice?

Tapping two fingers against my heart, I lifted
them to my head, and then dropped them to my lips, the gesture a
show of respect.

“Silveet …”
I thought, replaying my idea in my head for the courtesy of
the goddess. She didn’t speak to me, her silence a gaping hole in
my plan.

It wasn’t until later that afternoon, the rain
still coming down in sheets when the goddess appeared. Only it
wasn’t Silveet who materialized.

I was on the main deck despite the downpour
when I saw the vision of a woman wavering over the ocean. She stood
in the air, hovering. Her figure was bent, her piercing eyes
watching me. Unlike Escreet and Silveet, this woman wasn’t young
and beautiful. She was old. A veil of straggly white hair hung in
knotted strings around her shoulders. Her eyes were green and
ringed in fire.

She crooked her finger at me.
“For Medeisia,”
she
called, her echoing voice as eerie as the rest of her.
“Call on me when the time comes. You know my name.
If you refuse to say it, then I cannot help you.”

Her words still echoing, she disappeared,
leaving behind a gray ocean and an unfurling uneasiness in the pit
of my stomach.

“Be a dragon,”
I reminded myself.

For Medeisia, and if I was being honest, partly
for myself.

Chapter 16

With night came the fear, my pulse jumping in
my neck. My stomach churned, my breathing rushed.

Cloaked in Reenah’s blue robe, I made my way to
the quarterdeck, the rain from earlier still falling from the sky,
an ever-changing flood of water. From a trickle to a downpour and
back again. The wind pushed it sideways, making it hard to escape
the barrage no matter where you were on the ship. It soaked me to
the skin.

Because of the deluge, there were no lanterns
lit along the walkways, and I stumbled as I moved, my fingers
dragging against the ship, my untethered hair plastered to my face
despite the robe’s cover.

“Give me strength,” I begged the
gods.

My feet paused before a doorway, and I
hesitated. Rain pressed against me, urging me forward, my clothes
clinging to my flesh.

My hand rose.

The door swung open before I had a chance to
knock, Prince Cadeyrn’s figure filling the opening. He was naked
from the waist up, his breeches the only thing covering him. Even
his feet were bare. His face was weary, and I knew he’d been
working the past day with his men in the rain, his damp hair a sign
he’d left them only recently.

Cadeyrn’s brows furrowed, his gaze dropping to
my blue-hooded figure. “I should be asking my consort why she feels
the need to come to my chamber at this hour, but I’m not going to
insult you or me by pretending you’re Reenah.”

He stepped back, and I ducked into the cabin.
Cadeyrn’s gaze swept the deck before he closed the door behind
him.

Drawing back my hood, I gazed at the room. The
Captain’s quarters were bigger than those on the middle deck. A
neatly made bed was tucked into the corner, a trunk pushed against
the wall next to it. There was a desk on the opposite side of the
room, the surface littered in parchment. An astrolabe and a map
rested amongst them. Lanterns burned around the room.

Water dripped from my clothes, pooling at my
feet.

Cadeyrn’s gaze found my face, his eyes
traveling my figure to the floor. “Why did you come, Stone? Why
would you risk it?”

Swallowing hard, I answered, “Anyone who saw me
would have thought you called on your consort.”

“Stone,” he sighed. “I haven’t called on her
for a long time.”

“Because of Catriona?” I dared ask.

His gaze bored into mine. “No.”

My chest heaved, my hands fisted against my
stomach. “It could only do Reenah good if your people thought you
called on her.”

Rather than argue, Cadeyrn stepped toward me.
“Why have you come?”

“I know a way to help Medeisia,” I
whispered.

The prince froze, his gaze searching my eyes. I
knew what he saw in my face, but I didn’t flinch.

“Aean Brirg,” he said hoarsely.

My stomach a fluttering mess, I undid the robe
at my neck, the heavy wet fabric falling with a splat to the floor.
My fingers went to the laces on my tunic.

“Stone,” Cadeyrn said, more firmly.

I glanced at him, my cheeks flushed even though
the rain’s chill had seeped to my bones. Tears threatened. I didn’t
know if it was because I feared rejection or because I was being
forced to use him the same way other kingdoms had, the same way
Henderonia and Greemallia had used him with Catriona and Gabriella,
as if he were a stud horse.

My voice shook when I answered him. “Medeisia
needs an heir, Cadeyrn. It needs an heir with Hedron’s bloodline,
an heir born to a Medeisian mother. This won’t fix everything. Not
the issues with New Hope or the problems in Sadeemia, but it’s a
start.”

Cadeyrn swept his hand through his hair,
leaving it tousled, the muscles in his back bunching as he moved
past me to lean against his desk, his palms flat against the
surface.

“Do you know what you’re asking?” he
inquired.

“I do.”

His grip tightened on the desk. “How much
thought have you given this, Aean Brirg? You’d risk your life to
have a Medeisian heir? Have you thought about what this would mean
for you? For our son or daughter? It would be an illegitimate claim
to the throne.”

My gaze fell to the floor, a shiver
running up my spine at the words
our son or
daughter
.

“Only if you don’t claim him or her,” I pointed
out.

Cadeyrn laughed, the sound short. “God, Stone!
I’m married into the Henderonian monarchy! How much do you expect
from me? You know more than anyone what it’s like to be born
illegitimate. You’d do that to a child?”

My heart sank, tears spilling down my cheeks.
“Would you? For Sadeemia?” I asked. “This is a chess game, Your
Majesty. We’re all pieces in a very large, very complicated game,
and I’m all out of moves.”

Cadeyrn threw me a glance, but didn’t turn to
face me. “Then why are you crying?” he asked.

My chest burned, full of loud, angry sobs in
danger of escaping. I was a walking dead woman who’d loved two men
in her life. It was pointless to pretend otherwise. With Kye, it
had been a sweet, carefree kind of love full of hope with a sad
start but a passionate ending. I’d fallen for him hard and fast.
With Cadeyrn, it had come on more slowly, a sneaking kind of love
born from grief. We’d shared a great friendship full of
understanding, the transformation to something deeper so slow and
unexpected that I’m not sure when it changed. But the pain of
heartache was there.