The Four Kingdoms

by Maryam Durrani

  If I hadn't put so much of the weight on his shoulders, maybe he would've moved away from the bullet in time. Maybe he wouldn't have wanted to die.

  Xavier was the one.

  “Y-you . . . You were dead,” I said. For the first time in a very long time, I was terrified. I had no idea what to do.

  His lips curled into a smile.

  “Surprise.”

  TEN

  He was gone.

  I couldn’t find him. I looked everywhere, but I couldn’t see him anymore. He disappeared into thin air as if he’d never been here in the first place. Ah, the irony.

  He left, just like I had the day of the coronation.

  The cheers were what snapped me back to reality.

  I had won.

  Amherst was pumping his fist and the crowd was wild tossing bags of coins around. They were laughing and cheering but I couldn’t hear a word they were saying. I won.

  Jax and Isabelle jumped over the barriers and into the arena, whooping.

  “I knew you would win!” Isabel punched a fist in the air, a smile on her face. Jax wrapped me in a giant bear hug, nearly lifting me off my feet. I frowned past his shoulder at the exit door. I pulled away from him.

  “Thank you.” I felt disoriented. I turned to Amherst. “Please give my winnings to Jax and Isabel. I’ll be back.”

  I’ll be back.

  The last time I had said that, I’d never planned on actually coming back.

  What a lie. I was going insane. I was finally losing it. I was seeing things . . . people. People that were dead. I threw open the exit door and walked out. Nothing.

  Silence.

  I let out an angry cry and slammed my fist against the wo-oden door. I kicked it with all my might and bashed it with my shoulder. It was too thick, too heavy. I could already feel the bruises darkening all over my arms, my shoulders.

  “No!” I shouted, pushing the door in with my palms. “What’s happening to me? Why now . . .” I’d come so far. I beat helplessly at the unarmed frame, when suddenly it creaked open, as if trying to push me away. I took a step back.

  It was Jax. He didn’t fight back. He shut the door behind him and held out his arms.

  “Come on.”

  “No.”

  “Adalia. Come here.”

  “No,” I repeated, frustrated. I needed to hit something.

  “Just . . .” He stepped forward, taking me into his arms. I froze, standing there. Unmoving. Completely silent.

  And then I screamed, “Why now?” and Jax rested his cheek against the top of my head as I repeated the words over and over and over.

  Zinovia was upset.

  “I switched my guards yesterday,” she said. “Not all of them, because how will I know if the outsiders are more trustworthy than the guards I already have?”

  I nodded. “It was smart to do so.”

  “Are you feeling alright? I feel so hot and stressed,” she fanned herself, taking a seat on a plush chair.

  “Is something wrong?”

  She pursed her pink lips. “You know what’s terrible? I feel as if my kingdom is at war with Dystalphi.” I waited for her to go on. “They haven’t sent our grain yet. I’m at a major

  disadvantage. The kingdoms are clashing.”

  “Have you tried reaching out to Trella?”

  She rolled her eyes. “You know how they are. Always neutral. King Tarquin wouldn’t help me if I begged.”

  Trella was a sixteen day journey from Crea. I’d visited once before with King Sadim, but Astodia never had a problem with that kingdom in particular. And anyway, it was a trip overseas. The journey was extremely perilous. Whoever dared to go on the voyage had to stay on route, or they’d be killed by whatever was below the waters.

  And pirates. Pirates were the most dangerous of all.

  “I feel as if there’s an internal war brewing,” she shut her fan and snapped it against her palm. “I’m sure Queen Lorelle sensed it too. The king of Dystalphi threatened to stop trade with us when he found out about our new alliance with Astodia.”

  I furrowed my eyebrows. That didn’t sound like King Adrean. Maybe he felt threatened by the joining of two kingdoms against him, if anything were to happen. Or maybe he wanted Astodia all to himself; Astodia was a large kingdom with a strong force and many advantages.

  “Our last hope is to unite with Trella.” I gave her a look. “I know I said they wouldn’t listen, but it won’t hurt to try. If we don’t . . . well, let’s just say, Dystalphi has the greatest advantage. They have the biggest army out of all four kingdoms. And guess who has the smallest?” She gave me a tight-lipped smile. “I guess my father spent all his riches building a glamorous castle instead of training a force to protect the glamorous castle.” She rolled her eyes, getting to her feet.

  Zinovia smacked her rose patterned fan against her palm twice more for emphasis, looking straight at me. “If we don’t get Trella in time, we’re done for.”

  I took ten steps forward, turned, and walked back.

  Sometimes pacing helped me think. King Sadim, the former king of Astodia, always paced. Watching him walk back and forth calmed me sometimes, and right now, it was too silent.

  So I started to pace. I walked to one end of the room, and made my way to the other end. Then I turned, returning to the same spot by the bookshelf. Two more steps, and then—

  “I know,” I said, looking up.

  “What do you know?” the princess sat up straighter than she already was.

  “What if I train people to fight? We can recruit men for the army—”

  “Families will be torn apart. There could be uprisings,” she countered. “I’d rather yank out the root of the problem instead of hacking away at the stems.”

  “No offense, Your Highness,” I stopped her, “but that statement is very weak. Your kingdom will be crushed, and the casualties will be tripled. Would you want that?” She shook her head. “I know this is new for you, but understand me when I say this is the best way to go. I’ll personally go to speak with Trella’s King Tarquin about an official alliance.”

  The words left my lips before I realized what I was saying. Trella was so far and the trip was dangerous. Ships got lost at sea all the time. Again, there were pirates. Unknown vessels scoured the ocean for fresh bait.

  My chest tightened. Ships always went missing, pushed off course towards Amghadon.

  Amghadon was a resting place for the pirates, an uncharted island surrounded by black mountains and a lagoon as dark as ebony. The Black Island was about two thousand miles south of Trella.

  “You would do that?” Zinovia raised a perfect eyebrow.

  “You do realize it’s very risky. Of course, if you agreed to go, I’d send my best men with you.”

  I swallowed. “I understand.”

  She squared her shoulders, her brown eyes bright. There was a smile on her face.

  “We can start training anytime.” She smirked. “I have a champion on my hands, don’t I? Lucky, lucky me. Now I just need to get my hands on Cadeyrn.”

  My body seemed to numb as I heard the name of the Battle Lord. I rubbed my throat, almost tiredly.

  “I’ll be spending the night here,” I informed the princess.

  “That’s alright. I’ll make sure your chambers are set for you.” I bowed, turning to leave the room. “Oh, and Adalia?” I glanced over my shoulders, stopping. She was smiling. “Thank you.” I faced forward and turned out of the room towards the empty corridors.

  The sound of a gunshot rang through the air. All I could see was blood, and the prince was on the floor, grabbing at his chest.

  He opened his mouth to speak his final words as he slipped away, and I’d never speak to him again.

  “What is it?” I asked, grabbing his hands. “Xavier. How can I help you?”

  “This . . . is your . . . fault.”

  Panic flooded through my veins. “What?”

  “Your fault. You should’ve left him. Lance. I wouldn
’t have died. My father . . . You could’ve been there to protect him.” There was blood on his mouth, on my hands. “You did this.”

  “I did the right thing.”

  “You betrayed your kingdom. You betrayed me.” He pulled his hands out of my grasp. “You . . . you should’ve . . .

  been the one to die . . . instead.”

  I sat upright. My back was slick with sweat, and my heart beat so hard I felt it in my throat. “It wasn’t me,” I whispered. “I would never have let you die if I’d known . . .” I buried my face in my hands. My mind was playing games with me. I thought I’d seen Xavier, and now the dreams were back and crueler than before.

  If I really saw you, I thought to myself, if it was you at the Battles, I need a sign. Give me a sign, for God’s sake. I can’t be tortured anymore.

  I shivered, pulling the heavy blankets up to my chest. I should have jumped in front of the bullet.

  If only I had known.

  The princess gifted me a horse. It was a long legged chestnut mare named Butternut. I rode my new horse home, where I was greeted by a happy Isabel. She flew out through the door, hopping on one foot as I yanked the reins back to slow Butternut down.

  “Adalia!” Isabel shouted. “Look what I bought today.” She held up a huge plate of roasted chicken, almost prancing. “Do you know how long it’s been since I saw two roasts on a plate side by side? Come with me.”

  “Are you alright—”

  She yanked on my arm as I tied Butternut to a pole. I followed her to the back. I heard clucking. “Chickens!” she screamed. “We have chickens! And a cow.” The cow mooed as if on cue for emphasis. I stared at her in awe.

  “Did you spend all of the money?” I asked, confused.

  All of my winnings were only enough for three chickens. How could she have bought a cow?

  “Nope. I got a delivery early in the morning with more. Some boy said the money would keep coming for a while.”

  I frowned. That wasn’t what Amherst had mentioned in the winnings—

  Oh.

  Zinovia.

  I wanted to march back to the castle and demand for her to take it all back. I wasn’t poor. I didn’t need her to pay me for advice.

  But when I saw the look on Isabel’s face, I decided to go later. Maybe mention it in a month.

  I felt a smile slide on my face. “I haven’t eaten breakfast yet,” I said with a small shrug.

  She grinned. “Guess what we’re having?”

  “What?” I asked, even though I knew.

  “Chicken,” she laughed, blond ponytail bobbing as she danced her way into the kitchen. I followed her, unbuckling the sheath from my hips. I was exhausted from the ride here. My wound was healing, but I was still in pain.

  I set the sword against the wall as I walked in, pulling off my cloak and tossing it on a nearby chair.

  “Oh, and one more thing,” Isabel chirped, setting the plate of chicken down.

  “What,” I snorted, “did you buy a goat too?”

  “Nope. We have a visitor,” she pointed over my shoulder.

  “Who’s visiting at this time?” I questioned, wondering what else she’d brought home. I turned, only to have my heart stop in my chest.

  Your fault.

  You should’ve died instead.

  I couldn’t even lie to myself anymore. It was him, in the flesh.

  The dead prince.

  ELEVEN

  Usually, if you met someone after a very long time, you’d greet them with a hug. Maybe a kiss on the cheek, a pat on the back. A laugh. A celebratory feast.

  Unless, of course, the person had died around two years ago and appeared out of nowhere in a battle against you two days before you offered to be carted away to a faraway kingdom on a two-month round trip. Instead of a hug, you could go for tears. A breakdown. Panic. Maybe even jumping out of the window and running for your life in fear of the living dead.

  But the longer I stared at him, the more I realized he was realer than ever. He wasn’t dead. His cheeks were hollow, but his skin was fresh. His eyes were tired, but they weren’t sunken in like the rotting dead. He was bony, but not weak and breakable. He looked strong—it was like a transformation from a pony to a workhorse. So I walked right up to him, squinting. Overwhelmed with a million different emotions. I felt my face turning a dark, dangerous shade of red.

  Maybe he saw it coming, but he didn’t move. I knew the boy was much faster than that, but he didn’t duck or dodge because he knew he deserved it. So I pulled back my fist and punched him once in the face, ignoring Isabel’s shriek of surprise, then a second time in the shoulder.

  As he doubled over, I went in for another bruising punch,

  but a pair of hands grabbed onto my wrists—ones that didn’t belong to my dear friend Isabel.

  “How could you!” I screamed at him. “How could you? You should be dead! Why aren’t you dead?” I wouldn’t lower my voice. He deserved my screams. He deserved the rage and anger spewing from the core of my soul. I growled as Jax wrapped one arm around my shoulders.

  “Adalia!” he shouted. “What the hell are you doing?” How could Jax take his side?

  I fought against him, trying to punch the stupid gold-eyed boy anywhere I could, trying to find an opening, but Jax would not let go. Finally, I froze in place and let myself drop to the floor. I hung from his arms, and that’s when he let go.

  “Don’t touch me,” I slapped Jax’s hands as he reached for me. “How could you bring him here?” I spat.

  Xavier’s pretty eyes widened with mock surprise. “I thought you’d be happy to see me. What’s it been? Two years?”

  My mind went blank as I scrambled to my feet, lunging for him. Jax caught me around the waist, yanking me back in midair as Xavier laughed.

  “That’s enough!” Jax shouted, spinning me around to face him. “What is the matter with you?” He looked up at Xavier. “What did you do to her? She’s never like this.”

  “She tends to get a bit feisty around me,” Xavier smirked—a look perfect for his new hard features.

  “If you grab me one more time I will break your nose,” I fumed, facing Jax.

  “Wait. Do you two know each other?” Isabel asked, confused. “You know Cadeyrn? Well, that makes sense. I was wondering if you were just going through a random breakdown in the arena a few days ago. Maybe because of stress?”

  “That’s not his real name,” I wiped my mouth on the back

  of my hand.

  Adalia, calm down. Hit him after you find out what magic he used to bring himself to drive you insane all over again.

  “Well your name wasn’t Adalia when you came to us, was it?” Jax crossed his arms over his chest. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Isabel pick up her plate of chicken and inch away from the scene, grabbing a knife off the counter as she did so.

  “Give me a shout if you need me,” she called. “I’ll attack. I will,” she pointed the blade at the prince.

  “It’s Xavier. Prince Xavier,” I scowled. My fists shook at my sides. Jax frowned, putting a hand on my shoulder.

  “Calm down.”

  “He’s the dead prince!” Isabel gasped from across the room. “We talked about this. I thought you said you killed him?”

  “Shut up, Isabel,” Jax scowled. She stuck her tongue out at her brother.

  I turned towards Xavier, narrowing my eyes. “You have no idea what you put me through, you son of a—”

  “Dead king?” The smirk was back on his face, and then my lungs were closing. They were too tight for me to breathe and I backed away, the insides of my knees hitting the back of the old, dusty sofa. I pushed it aside, the legs scraping against the creaky wooden floor, one hand wrapped around my throat.

  “Don’t follow me,” I wheezed. “Don’t.”

  I started to run. I threw open the doors and escaped outside, only to hear Xavier’s voice shout, “Run away, Assassin! That’s what you’ve always done. Run away from your problems, like you ra
n from your kingdom.”

  Maybe this was a dream. Maybe it was another mind trick my sorry brain was playing on me.

  But he’d felt too real under my fist—too real to be imagined.

  Jax.

  I had a different relationship with him. After I got to know him, had a chance to understand him, I realized he was a very protective human. Protective of his free-as-a-bird sister and protective of people he knew. So I expected him to follow me when I made my grand escape to the bridge. Even so, I pretended I hadn’t thought he would come after me.

  “Why did you follow me?” I asked. My voice came out as a croak, and I cleared my throat, gripping the rails. Water rippled through the rocks, decorated with beautiful but dangerous slippery green moss.

  “You know I’ll always follow you,” he said with a smile. “Tell me about this ‘Xavier’.” He came to stand next to me. He nudged me with his shoulder.

  Childish as Jax was, he never let that part of him get in the way of being there when someone needed him. I, for one, would never admit I needed him—even when I needed him.

  “Just stand here,” I said with a sigh. “For a moment. In silence.” So he did, and I didn’t have speak. He understood without words and I let my head hang, closing my eyes. “I thought he was dead,” I finally said, running my hands through my long locks. “He was shot in front of me. He bled out. The doctors—”

  “The doctors could’ve lied,” Jax sighed softly. “He was their prince. It was their duty to keep his secret.”

  “They buried him,” I whispered. “I saw the coffin.”

  “Did you look inside the coffin?” he asked.

  Oh. There was a sudden pain in my chest. “No. I couldn’t see his face again.”

  “Did you check his heartbeat?”

  How could I have missed all those little details? “I didn’t think to . . . he wasn’t breathing,” I argued. “He looked dead.” As many excuses I made, his questions made sense.

  “Drugs,” Jax looked at me. “I know a little about faking deaths.”

  “What do you mean, drugs?”