Maray bit her lip. What was she supposed to say to him? Nothing wasn’t exactly an option. “A minute, Jemin, if you will.” Maray stripped out of her robe and dropped the heavy fabric to the floor. Before she stepped into the steaming drops of water, she gazed back over her shoulder as if she were looking right into his amazingly blue eyes. “Don’t go anywhere. I want to hear it. All of it.”
Jemin
Jemin watched Laura march out of the room, the train of her dress fanning out behind her. She looked exactly like a textbook Cornay today, the way all of them did in the portraits that hung along the walls of the palace corridors, and in every public place in all of Allinan, and probably in every household, too. Her grey hair was elaborately braided up the back of her head, and a small tiara was sitting atop like a spider with leaves and flowers for legs.
He couldn’t look away even if he wanted to, but his heart was already pulling toward the bathroom door. The second Laura disappeared, he felt the heaviness of her presence fall off of him.
“At least, not when you’re around,” he commented defiantly—if only in her absence.
Until recently, he had admired Laura for her bravery, for choosing her heart over her mother’s bidding, for fighting for Maray and supporting her by helping her learn to fit into court and her role as an Allinan princess. But her recent actions…
Ever since Rhia had been locked in the dungeons, Laura had fallen into a pattern of evasion. She sent Scott down to question her, and Neelis and his pack to guard the prisoner. Jemin and Heck frequently joined, and he had witnessed one or the other pointless attempts at withdrawing information from Rhia. Rhia wasn’t going to speak other than in mockery of her daughter’s and granddaughter’s weakness, even though there were eons of knowledge trapped behind that decaying face. What little of substance that had slipped through was hardly relevant to catching Feris. If anyone could make something of her babbling about a ‘binding spell’, it was Corey. Laura just kept procrastinating the moment when she’d have to make a decision concerning what should happen with Rhia. They couldn’t keep her down there forever… But execution? How could a daughter sentence her own mother to death? Even for the crimes she had committed?
A sour taste filled Jemin’s mouth as he thought of how Laura kept promising Maray her support and understanding, and when it counted, she was more a regent than a mother. And she kept withholding information. She had sworn Jemin to secrecy and he had intended to keep his promise… until just now when he had seen firsthand how affected Maray was by how she acted.
Now that Laura had left, the room had fallen completely silent. He closed his eyes and listened hard, hoping to hear at least some sign Maray was still in the bathroom. But it was quiet.
“Maray?” He leaned toward the carved door as if he could see through it and hesitated, his hand itching to push down the brass handle and check whether she had vanished into thin air. “Are you still in there?”
Not knowing what was going on with her made him uneasy. It was a sensation he had gotten used to over the past weeks. After saving her from Rhia and returning her safely to the palace, every free second was with her—even if he was mostly just a volunteer guard Maray’s parents welcomed due to his skills and dedication. But every now and then, they had a moment alone, and those were the moments he lived for. The ones with her thick, dark hair between his fingers, her mysterious eyes, which spoke of her past in the other world, the sparks of magic in her hands as she lit a candle with a well-directed flame, and her silken lips on his whenever he was lucky enough to steal a kiss.
Jemin was aware that it wasn’t right for a soldier to love a princess—not in the nobles’ eyes, at least. His own father would have schooled him about it had he caught them. About the dangers of stepping out of the invisibility his position as a soldier granted him. About the heartbreak he’d go through once she realized her future was with someone worthy in the eyes of the crown. But did it matter? When his heart was beating a rhythm that was mostly the sound of her name? She had changed something in him, and as long as he was around her, he was that new man—that better man. And no matter what Laura would do if he broke his promise, he was going to tell Maray the truth—at least the parts of it he could fit in.
As there was no response from the other side of the door, a new frustration kicked in. What if her mother’s words had made her think and change her mind about him? What if her feelings for him were no longer strong enough to overpower her obedience to the court’s wishes? What if… he didn’t dare think it.
“Maray, please let me in. I want to talk to you.”
No answer.
Was it even his place to demand? Laura was right: “remember your place, Jemin”. He was here purely by Maray’s wish and Laura’s grace. Gerwin had never objected. He could tell from the look in the ambassador’s eyes that there was no opposition to be expected to come from his side when it came to who his daughter chose to love. After all, his marriage was the product of Laura’s refusal to obey Rhia and fall into her footsteps. But he wasn’t here now to balance out Laura’s harshness—something Jemin believed wasn’t her nature but her instinct for survival at court after everything that had happened with Rhia, the faltering loyalty of the nobles, and Feris on the loose.
“A minute, Jemin, if you will.” Maray’s voice was surprisingly calm. He could swear he had seen moisture in her eyes when she had bolted from the room. It was almost too smooth to be authentic.
His heart gave a jolt that resulted in a painful sensation, which he was aware he’d never have felt had it not been for the deep, burning affection he felt for the princess. It wasn’t necessarily that her tone was sharp; it was observing her turn from the quite emotional girl into a calculated royal… was she? Or was he just imagining things? Had his love for her tainted his perception of her so much that he couldn’t even allow her a moment to gather her thoughts?
The rush of fabric over skin followed by the sound of drops of water in the bathtub made him look up. He tucked his hair back into his ponytail. Why did that particular sound affect him so much? Was it because it meant he wouldn’t be able to talk to her for at least another ten minutes until she had taken a shower? Or was it because he wanted to be there, on the other side of that door, to be her clothes, or to be that running water on her skin?
“Don’t go anywhere. I want to hear it. All of it.” Maray’s voice, almost like a beautiful echo, touched his ears, and his heart picked up pace, making him uncomfortably hot. He wasn’t usually hot. His body followed his needs, and his needs were to function in any climate, whether it was the icy Allinan winter they were headed for, or the humid and hot Allinan summer—and anything in between. This heat originated within him, though. It was something new, and it was connected to his thoughts and emotions rather than room temperature or season.
Jemin gritted his teeth and strolled back to the window, planting himself on the side, where he peered out with tired eyes. When had he last rested properly? Not in weeks. Probably not since Maray had first crossed that border to Allinan. And he had no one but himself to blame. It was he who had brought her into this dreadful place. When a few months ago, Allinan had been Jemin’s home, now he saw dangers and threats for Maray in every corner. It had become a death-trap for his heart. And this made it hard for him to close his eyes even for a minute. Heck had even suggested he take one of Corey’s sleeping potions. But he wasn’t ready to try that. He still believed in his own youth and ambition to keep him awake.
As he gazed outside, he wondered if any of the people out there—the commoners—saw Maray for something other than Rhia’s come-alive image. Was she as different—as soft, gentle, beautiful to them as she was to him? The crowd was slowly dissolving now that Scott’s soldiers were combing through the scene, on the lookout for the crimson-eyed, hooded person. While Laura had questioned Maray’s judgement over her situation, he would never doubt anything Maray said—not because he was naive or besotted (which he probably was), but because he had go
tten to know her pure heart and her willingness to put herself into harm’s way for him and for her people; a people she was just now getting to know.
“Jem?” Maray’s voice sounded from the bathroom, a bit weak for his taste. “Jemin?”
He reacted to both his name and his nickname, which she so tenderly whispered in his ear whenever she had a chance. But this time, it didn’t make him shudder from pleasure but from fear that something was wrong. There was a layer of distress to her tone that made his stomach tighten.
“You alright in there?” He was back at the bathroom door within a second, skipping the room in a noiseless leap, and rested his ear against the wood. “Shall I come in?”
There was a noise of objection that sounded a lot like a ‘no’ in a different language before the door popped open, hitting him right in the forehead.
“Ouch.” He swallowed most of the curse that was itching to slip from his tongue and stepped aside so Maray could exit alongside a cloud of steam.
“I’m sorry.” Maray’s palm was there on his cheek, forcing him to face her, and her lapis-lazuli eyes gave him an inquisitive look. “Are you going to survive?” she asked with a frown. “Or should I get Corey?”
He shook his head, freeing himself from her hand, and took another step back. “The question is not whether I am okay. It’s if you are.”
Maray’s expression was a riddle.
“That bad?” Jemin recognized the nonchalance in his tone, but his heart beat double speed. He couldn’t tell if Maray was upset or hurt or simply annoyed. From the dangerous royal neutral, it could be anything.
“You tell me,” she countered. This time, her lips twitched upwards—not in a good way. It was almost like a dark version of her usual humor. She reminded him of himself when he tried to hide what was going on, when his mouth wanted to tremble from anger, or his eyes wanted to tighten as he felt the impulse to scold someone… Allinan court was rubbing off on Maray, and not the glamorous, fun part, but the secrets and intrigues part.
“You know the door isn’t soundproof,” Maray informed him as if that would explain everything. “What exactly is it that you know that I don’t?”
There was a shadow in her eyes that made her look older, less like the teenager he’d picked up in the other world, even if she was wearing her jeans and sweater right now instead of Allinan attire. How could he have even considered keeping a secret for Laura? Even being a soldier, a guard of dimensions, his loyalty was to Maray as much as it was to Laura… maybe even more.
“I apologize, Maray.” Jemin wanted to say something different. That he loved her, that he never, ever wanted to hurt her. That he would always put her first, no matter what. But the truth was he kept his emotions encapsulated, not because he didn’t want her to know how deep his feelings for her ran, but because he wanted to protect her from the heartbreak once she had to choose a suitor.
Maray didn’t speak but kept watching him with cautious eyes, obviously waiting for him to explain. With a sigh, he stepped to the closest chair and sank into it, folding his hands in his lap.
“You want to know all of it.” Jemin repeated her words and earned a nod from Maray. “Even if that means that you will no longer be able to sleep at night?”
Maray
Maray’s heart pounded. But that was under the surface. Had she hoped Jemin didn’t notice that had she been merely curious and upset before, now she was terrified.
“Even then.”
Jemin’s eyes widened into a beautiful, blue canvas. She could tell that he had been hoping she would say no. But he should know her well enough to know that she would always—always—prefer the truth.
“Spit it out.” With a gesture that was supposed to make her look in charge, Maray leaned against the chair next to Jemin and waited, holding her breath.
“You know we have been questioning Rhia for the past weeks,” he repeated what she already knew. “But it’s not exactly true that we haven’t gotten much from her.”
“The binding spell.” Maray remembered that first session down in the dungeons. Nobody wanted her anywhere near Rhia. But she had snuck down there and observed the initial interrogation. Jemin had been there, Scott and, of course, her mother and father. Some of the Yutu-shifters had stood guard just in case Rhia tried something. Rhia had looked old—like a real grandmother. Her hair, once shiny and dark like Maray’s, was now a dull grey, darker than her mother’s silvery hair, and her skin was now dissolving in some places.
Rhia had asked for blood that was stored at the warlock quarters, not to drink, but to transfer into her veins, so she’d stay younger, more capable. But Laura had refused her. Much to Rhia’s disliking. It had taken a while before she had spoken to any of them as they threw questions at her. It had been Scott who had asked the one that had made her look up and speak again. The one golden question: how do you become immortal?
She had lifted her head and laughed, the sound of a rusty chainsaw stuck in a human’s throat, and said, “Fools. It’s there in his books. You just need to look. You need to bind the right pair the right way, and you’ll live forever. ”
“You’ll live forever,” Maray spoke absently, her mind in the torch-lit dungeons. Rhia hadn’t tried to escape or fight.
“What?” Jemin straightened at her words, and Maray cringed. No one knew she’d been down there. She should keep it that way.
“Nothing.”
Thankfully, Jemin didn’t push but continued his own train of thought. “The binding spell is the least of our worries.”
“What?” This time, it was Maray who was surprised. “What do you mean ‘the least of our worries’?” Maray lowered herself to Jemin’s face and sat on the chair next to him. “What else is there to know?”
Jemin’s neckline lifted a bit as he propped himself up on his forearms and looked to the side, almost as if he was expecting to find answers there.
“Jemin?”
“Rhia did tell us more than just about the binding spell,” he finally admitted.
It didn’t surprise Maray. It was actually a relief. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
With a quick gesture, Jemin pulled his hair out of his eyes before he faced Maray, looking as if he felt guilty of having committed treason. “Because…” His eyes darted to the ceiling, then to the closet, before they searched the blue brocade wallpaper above the bed.
Maray’s gaze followed his, and when she found their reflection in the mirrors left and right of the bed above the fireplaces, she was reminded how their days together were counted. Jemin’s shape, a statue-like image in the glass, next to her, they originally were from two different worlds, and now that she was transferring into her position as a princess, they would be of two different worlds again. It was only now, during a brief window of opportunity, that they were equal. She, not yet a ruler, and he, not yet banned from her life by a jealous suitor. She swallowed.
“Because your mother intended to protect you by keeping you in the dark. She only wants what’s best for you.”
“But she should have learned by now that it’s more dangerous to not be prepared with the truth.”
“I know that, and you know that. Even your father knows that.”
“But he does what she wants. He loves her so much. He’d do anything for her. Now that he finally has her back.”
The sad thing was Maray understood her father would keep a secret like this, but she didn’t understand when it came to Jemin. He was supposed to be her protector. He had said he’d always be there to protect her. And yet…
“I thought it was a good thing.”
“I know.” Maray chewed on her lower lip. “What is this ominous truth?” She swallowed any emotion, good or bad, and tried to focus on learning the facts.
“Rhia has allies in the other world,” Jemin said as if she was supposed to know what that meant.
“Allies?”
“You don’t know the history of the First Breach of Dimensions, do you?” Jemin raised an eyebrow
, which made Maray feel as if she’d failed a test at school.
“Obviously.”
Her frown brought forward one of the rare smiles on Jemin’s face.
“You know how Rhia opened the rift so the demons could cross the borders and roam freely.”
Maray nodded.
“But you don’t know how she became strong enough to open the rift,” he suggested.
“Correct.” Maray had guessed, together with her mother, that Rhia might have even used the power of demons to open the rift and actually become one of them in the process. But they were only guesses.
“So, what if I told you that she had help?”
“It wouldn’t surprise me.” Maray leaned back in her chair and tried to focus on Jemin rather than going back into a spiral of guessing.
“Rhia had help from someone way more powerful than herself.” He stopped, checking her expressions with cautious eyes. “There is a group of demons that have increased their power over the past decades. The Shalleyn.”
“She had help from demons?” Maray confirmed the suspicions.
“From the Shalleyn. They are a fraction of demons who are a dangerous type of shapeshifters—more shifters than shape.” His mouth twisted. “They actually are shapeless but disguise themselves as humans and are everywhere there is power in the human world. In business, in politics, in entertainment…”
Maray chuckled, imagining Jemin and video games or movie theaters. “Entertainment?”
“You know, those animated pictures you guys have…”
“Film?”
“I guess so. But that’s beside the point. The Shalleyn are dangerous because they have been striving to expand into Allinan. They were banned by Gan Krai, the last of the powerful warlocks—supposedly…”
“Supposedly?”
Two Worlds of Redemption Page 3