by Elise Kova
“Sure.” He eased off her shoulders as quickly as he applied pressure when she hissed in pain.
“No, good pain, do it again,” Vi said quickly. Romulin pushed back to the point and held her there for several long breaths before letting her up. Vi closed her eyes, moving her leg around its socket.
“Better?”
“Marginally.”
Romulin finally sat across from her. “I have another stretch, if you’d like?”
“Since when have I ever said no to your counsel?” Vi smiled.
“Do as I do.” He patted the spot next to him and laid back. Vi stretched out next to him, copying his movements. “Now, put your heel there, against your knee. And reach through, grab your shin. No, there. Yes. Now pull and you should feel it—” She interrupted him with a sharp inhale as her whole hip seemed to tense and then blissfully relax all at once. “—there it is. Sounds like you got it.”
Vi repeated on the other side before dropping her legs. “I got something, all right…” She turned her head, looking at her flaxen-haired brother. “How’d you learn that?”
“Master of Horse in the palace. When I first started learning to ride, I had the same problem. Couldn’t find a comfortable seat for years. I’d have all kinds of pain after. It still haunts me from time to time. Like when I have to travel across the world to collect my sister.” They shared a grin. He paused before something else seemed to strike him. “Pain in your lower back?”
“No… Or should I say not yet?”
“Hopefully it stays that way.”
Vi pulled herself into a seated position, arms wrapped around bent knees. “Thanks for that.”
“Any time.” He smiled. Somehow, they had found an easy cadence near-immediately. “How was the trip north?”
“Tedious, but worthwhile, because you were at the end of it.” That had her beaming from ear to ear.
“Thank you for coming.”
“There’s no way I wouldn’t have—so long as the Senate allowed.” He reached over, grabbing her hand lightly. Sorrow filled her brother’s eyes all at once. He took in a breath that hitched halfway through, but his words were level, not betraying the emotions Vi could palpably feel. “I’m sorry Father isn’t here.”
It was then that she realized her last letter to him had been sent before her visions. He hadn’t even known she was Awoken. There was so much she had to catch him up on.
“Brother, I need your counsel on that.”
“I know, there’s much that needs to be done. Your coronation—”
“No, listen,” Vi interrupted. He looked mildly offended, but she spoke too quickly for him to say or do anything about it. “Father’s alive.”
“What?” Romulin took a sharp inhale of air.
“Father is alive,” she repeated.
“How?”
“I had a vision of him.”
“A vision?” he asked, clearly skeptical.
Vi wasn’t sure where to begin, so she started all the way back to her training with Jax. She summed up her months working in the pits to the eventual Awakening of her magic. She told him of her visions, and even training with Sehra on the magic of Yargen—complete with a small demonstration of durroe. The only thing Vi didn’t mention was Taavin. He was the one secret she couldn’t seem to share with anyone and the fact filled her with a mild twinge of guilt as it brought her mind briefly to Andru.
When she finished, he was silent, looking down at his hands folded in his lap. Eventually, Romulin shook his head, ran a hand through his short-cut hair—shorter than she remembered from her portraits—and stood, beginning to pace.
“I’ve read about Firebearers, and their sight.”
“But I’m not—”
“Yes, you have this other magic, Lightweaving.”
“Lightspinning,” she corrected.
“And I don’t know about the visions that come with that…” he mumbled.
“I know this is hard to believe.” Vi stood as well. “But you must.”
“Why do you?” Romulin stopped suddenly, looking back to her. “Didn’t you say you rode off in pursuit of your last vision because you were worried that fate had changed? Why do you believe father is alive?”
Getting called out on illogical jumps by her brother in person was far worse in person than in letters.
“I just feel that… he is…” The small kernel of doubt in herself sprouted a small seedling that poked through her confidence.
“How?” Romulin shook his head. “And even if he was… Why would he not come back to us? Why not send word?”
“I don’t know,” Vi muttered. “Perhaps he can’t? Perhaps he was captured, or gravely injured, and that’s why.”
“What is more likely, Vi? He’s alive and none of our ships or search parties have found him. By some miracle he survived the pirate attack and now he merely hasn’t sent back word, even though he’s totally fine?”
“Pirate attack? I thought it wasn’t certain what—”
“The public reports leave room for doubt.” Romulin preempted her question with grave severity. “But a small vessel was cornered by one of the search parties. Most of the sailors aboard put themselves to their own swords—” Vi grimaced at the words. “—but one was taken alive. He bore the mark of Adela and swore he had information on Father.”
“Which was?” Vi asked eagerly. Romulin sadly shook his head at her. “The man was stark mad, Vi. He spoke of an island of ice and a ship of mist. He said Adela herself still sailed the waters.”
“But you said he had Adela’s mark…”
“That’s just a tattoo of a trident—anyone could get one, and most pirates do to strike fear in their enemies.” Romulin shook his head solemnly. “There’s no way Adela still lives. Stories of her date back to our great grandfather’s time.”
Vi sighed heavily.
“I was hopeful too…” He rested a heavy palm on her knee. “But the man was clearly saying whatever he could to try to save his skin. It was likely pirates—given that the Crescent Continent has abandoned patrolling those waters and has pulled in their military vessels. But ships of mist and infamous pirate queens? Father's—” Romulin choked on the next word “—death can more likely be attributed to run-of-the-mill cutthroats.”
Vi watched as he stood, beginning to pace. The conversation made him understandably unsettled. She hardly enjoyed it. But it was a conversation that must be had.
In the silence, something else struck her—he spoke of Meru like he knew it. He hadn’t even batted an eyelash when she brought it up during her recount of the past few months. He’d already known; he’d found out before her. Vi tried not to be upset, but something about it—about the whole conversation—was beginning to hurt in a way her current mental state wasn’t prepared to handle.
He had known things and hadn’t told her. When had he learned these truths? For how long had he let her stay in the dark?
How many things had he kept from her when she had told him everything?
“I want to believe you.” Romulin’s voice was pleading, but Vi didn’t know what he was pleading for—her forgiveness, or for himself to believe her. “But it’s difficult, Vi.”
“He may still be alive, we can’t be sure. One person claimed he was and he may have a cure, Romulin. Maybe that’s why he hasn’t returned to us and—”
“Forget the fool’s hope of a cure!” Romulin’s voice rose slightly. Vi stared, stunned, trying to piece together why such a suggestion would make him so upset. He mumbled a soft apology as he recomposed himself. “You have more important work to do, now. If father is alive, he’ll find his way back to us.”
“More important work?” Vi rose to her feet and took a step toward her brother. “More important work than reuniting our family and healing our Empire?” Vi balked. As if he couldn’t look at her any longer, he turned, walking back toward the tent opening. “Don’t you even want a cure? Don’t you even want to find him? You grew up with him—you had him. H
ow could you not want him now?”
It was unfathomable to her. Shouldn’t the absence of their father hurt him even more than it did her? After all, he knew what it was like to have a present father and she didn’t. He knew what the loss felt like more profoundly. Or, he should.
Romulin paused, looking in a distant corner of the room. “Our family has never been whole, and will never be.”
“What?” Vi whispered.
“First you were gone, then father left, and now—” Romulin stopped himself short.
“I can find father, and I can bring him back.”
“Are you insane?” Her brother threw his hands in the air. “Find him? What can you do from the throne?”
“I—”
“And even if you found him and brought him back, we still wouldn’t be a complete family. You’d be too late.”
“Too late for what?” Vi wasn’t sure if she even wanted to know the answer. Romulin looked at her with a mixture of hurt and anger—a raw expression she’d never wanted to see from her brother.
“Just focus on becoming the Empress, Vi.” There was a broken quality to his words. A bitter resignation that now laced every sound his mouth made. “I will be with you… even after everyone else is gone. Even when we’re forced into bitter political arrangements. You’ll have me in your corner.”
“Will I? Because you seem to have no problem abandoning family.” Vi regretted the words the moment she said them.
Hurt painted his expression, then anger, then the same resignation she’d seen before, as her brother stormed out and brought an abrupt end to their first real meeting. Their first real argument, too.
Vi’s hands trembled. She stood, staring, until her legs gave out. Vi grabbed for one of the pillows and buried her face into it, screaming out her frustration silently, so none could hear.
Chapter Eleven
The structure of the imperial parade relaxed after the first day.
Vi and her family were still spearheading with soldiers and guards surrounding them. But there was less of a strict structure and more of a mass slowly marching along the seemingly endless road. The vast majority of the soldiers were on foot, making their pace almost painfully slow.
Vi glanced at Romulin from the corners of her eyes. He was talking quietly with Jax, but the words were lost entirely on Vi’s ears.
“So,” her mother started from her right. “Tell me what happened.”
“What?” Vi’s head swung over.
“Tell me what happened,” her mother repeated gently. There was no urgency to the words, no strict demands. Just a calmness that Vi had always seen her mother portray. “It was clear at dinner last night that something has already transpired between you two.”
“I see…” Vi knotted the reins around her fingers and relaxed them before they became tight enough to pull on the bridle. With a soft sigh, she relented. There wasn’t much that she hadn’t shared with her mother over the years during her visits to the North. “I suppose… it was just a difference of opinion.”
Vi looked over to her brother to find him staring back at her. Romulin looked away quickly, turning to Jax once more. She briefly wondered if Vhalla and Jax had coordinated for this investigation. Perhaps her uncle was asking her brother the same set of questions right now.
She wouldn’t put it past them.
“Over what?”
That gave Vi pause. Did she tell her mother of her visions? Surely her mother would want to know. But there were too many ears too close by now for her to divulge that particular secret yet. After Romulin’s reaction, she didn’t know how her mother would handle it, and putting her on the spot in the public eye seemed a poor choice.
“Our family,” Vi said simply.
Vhalla sighed and the sun glinted off her crown with the small motion. It was far more ornate than Vi’s and looked impossibly heavy.
“You know, we never wanted to send you away…” Vhalla said softly. “It was simply how fate had aligned. There was little else we could do at the time. We desperately needed to know the North wouldn’t flank us at the first opportunity when we were weak from the Mad King.”
“I know, you’ve said time and again.” Vi wished they weren’t on horseback and she could reach out to her mother. She’d have to make due by injecting as much tenderness as possible in her voice. “I don’t blame you.” Vi dropped her words to a hush. “Sehra told me everything, mother.”
“Did she?” Vhalla’s brown eyes, flecked with gold, looked at her in surprise. “Everything?”
“I believe so.” Vi gave a firm nod. “She taught me a good deal about my magic, and the world.”
“Thank the Mother,” Vhalla whispered in relief. “I was unsure if she ever would.”
The reaction affirmed everything Sehra said as truth. Her parents had known of this supposed mysterious traveler. They had known of the premonition of her Lightspinning, and had kept it all from her. Vi wanted to feel hurt by it… but the hurt was gone.
She merely felt tired. Tired of secrets and half-truths. Which was ironic, given the fact that she currently bore the burden of the greatest ones.
A full day of marching later, they finally broke for camp.
Vi spent most of it wallowing in silence and guilt. She wanted to reach out to Romulin, but didn’t know where to begin and knew the road wasn’t the place for the talk that needed to happen between them. Her conversation with her mother had continued, but about simple topics and matters of state. Merely speaking with her mother should’ve brought her joy, but it didn’t, and that was yet another thing Vi felt guilty for.
As soon as they came to a stop, Vi was eager to dismount. She hunted out Jayme, looking for the familiar tent structure she’d stayed in the night before. As expected, Vi found her friend helping delegate tasks.
“Your highness,” Jayme said with a bow of her head as Vi approached. “One more moment and we shall have everything ready for you.”
“May I assist at all?”
“That is most generous, but we would not want to burden you,” Jayme said loudly, clearly for the benefit of the soldiers in earshot.
“You didn’t mind burdening me with your pack for a good hour on our last hunting trip,” Vi said under her breath, barely moving her lips.
“Really? You’re hung up on an hour?” Jayme was clearly fighting rolling her eyes, and Vi was fighting laughter. “After I carried your pack for how long because you were allegedly ‘hunting’?”
“I was hunting.”
“Until you fell in a hole.”
Vi turned her eyes from Jayme, knowing she was at risk of cracking a smile that would be far too wide. Her gaze landed on the man from the day before—Fallor, he’d said his name was. He was carrying the same crate with her personal effects and Vi was all the more relieved she’d thought to burn the journal. Just the sight of his hands on her things, especially something that precious, made her skin crawl.
“Jayme,” Vi said softly, keeping her eyes on him.
“Yes?” Her friend clearly heard the shift in Vi’s tone.
“I don’t want him carrying my personal effects any longer.”
“Who?” Jayme looked to her tent and the soldiers hastily working around it.
“Wait, he’s inside… there, him, the man who just left, the big one, he calls himself Fallor. Do you know him?”
Jayme stared at the man for a long moment—long enough that his eyes flicked in her direction. The two stared at each other for half a breath and then Jayme looked back to her. “I do not.” She paused, folding her arms over her chest in thought. “But I can see how he’d make you uneasy. He’s a small giant.”
“I’m glad I’m not alone,” Vi mumbled. “I don’t like him, Jayme. He rubs me wrong.”
“You really shouldn’t go around demoting people from their jobs just because they ‘rub you wrong.’” Jayme sighed softly. She was ever the challenge and counterweight to Vi’s authority. “I’m sure he’s just a common man trying to
make a living. It’s a high honor to carry the princess’s luggage, you know. You nor I should try to remove him from the post for no good reason.”
“I hope it’s as simple as you say.” She sincerely did. Vi had too much to worry about already; she had no interest in adding a nosy soldier to her list. “Still, I think he was going through my things when I wasn’t in my tent.”
“Now, that’d be an offense to the crown. Do you have proof of it?”
“I don’t… Just a feeling, given how he was unloading them.” Vi rubbed the back of her neck, trying to smooth down the hair that stood on end there from the mere sight of Fallor. “You’re right, I know you are. It’s likely nothing and I’m jumping at shadows.”
Vi didn’t want to abuse her power. Even if she was going to leave, she didn’t want rumors of her being a harsh ruler flying around with the rest. It would be a mark against her family, if nothing else.
“You have a lot on your plate right now,” Jayme said softly, the tone of the friend Vi knew slipping in. “Stress gets to everyone.”
“Still, do you mind indulging me?” Jayme looked to her and Vi added hastily. “Please? As my friend? Keep an eye on him when you’re not stuck at your post outside my tent, that’s all. You don’t have to go digging or let him know he’s being investigated. For my peace of mind?”
“Of course I will.” Jayme gave a small nod. “If I find anything I’ll be certain to let you know. But try to not let worry over nothing consume you.”
“Thank you.” As if somehow the soldiers had been waiting on their conversation ending, the tent finished going up in that moment. “Would you like to stay for dinner tonight?” Vi offered, already knowing Jayme would, yet again, find some excuse to excuse herself.
“I can’t find information on this Fallor if I do.” Jayme shook her head. “And I should stay close to the soldiers, make sure I can be your ear on the inside.”
“Right,” Vi begrudgingly agreed. “Thank you for all you do.”
“I’m here for you, you know that. I’ll be back to take up my post right after I grab some food.” Jayme gave her a fond smile and quickly departed for the ration line.