by Eva Brandt
Naturally, Alarians would never do anything as plebeian as succumbing to shock, so it didn’t take long for King Sterling to address Malachai’s request. “The High King’s Privilege,” he repeated. “Is this a joke?”
“I assure you, Your Majesty, I am not joking,” Malachai answered, and the whirlwind of his emotions started to settle down into something more sedate. Taking a deep breath, he repeated, “I would like to call upon the High King’s Privilege.”
The ground started to shake under my feet. Instinctively, I reached out for Lucienne to steady her. She shot me a wide-eyed look, her magic flaring around her in agitation. “What is going on?” she asked.
“I have no idea,” I admitted.
As far as I knew, the High King’s Privilege was an ancient heirloom that had belonged to Alaric himself and was presumably the basis of the Alarian Vow. Most people thought that it was another spell, but during my time as an inquisitor, I’d learned that this was not so. It was a pendant, the same one that appeared in most of the High King’s portraits in the Palasion.
The High King’s Privilege had been deemed unusable, though, and it had been buried in the same crypt that held his body. A crypt that was right beneath us.
Oh.
As if my realization had triggered the outcome Malachai had been hoping for all along, the floor cracked and a glowing object emerged from the depths of the Palasion. It flew straight toward Malachai like a shooting star. Despite the fact that he was still in chains, Malachai caught it with ease. As soon as the gemstone landed in his fist, his bindings fell off.
Inquisitor Chen tried to reach for Malachai, perhaps intending to immobilize him again. The light around Malachai’s hands flared brighter, and Chen froze in his tracks.
By my side, Lucienne swayed. “W-What is that thing?” I had not deemed it possible, but she looked even paler than before. Her eyes had started to glow almost ominously as if responding or competing with the pendant Malachai had summoned.
I squeezed her wrist, hoping to anchor her without using my magic. “An heirloom from the time of the High King Alaric.”
I didn’t say it was not something Malachai should have been able to use. Queen Sarai did it in my stead. “Impossible,” she whispered. “You’re... You’re not even Alarian. The pendant has been dead for over a millennium.”
“The pendant comes to whoever is deserving of it,” Malachai replied. “It is the High King’s privilege to bestow his blessing on whatever person he chooses. That’s why the pendant has that name, to begin with.”
“And what would you know of it, Malachai Braun?” King Sterling asked, getting up from his seat. He was frowning, which did not bode well for our well-being.
“I know plenty,” Malachai answered without missing a beat. He paused as if bracing himself for what he was about to say.
No, that wasn’t it. That wasn’t what he was doing. He was listening to someone. The brief widening of his eyes suggested that he had not been prepared for whatever the person was telling him.
Who had contacted him? Mathias Vandale? But what could Vandale know about an Alarian artifact? More importantly, why hadn’t Malachai shared the information with us?
Malachai paused for too long, and King Sterling’s frown deepened. “Please, do enlighten us on what you had in mind,” he said.
I wondered if he’d noticed what I had or if he was still oblivious to what was going on right in front of him. It was difficult to say. Due to not having emotions, Alarians were almost impossible to read. I dearly hoped he remained unaware because if the council ever guessed that we had a tentative agreement with Vandale, it would all be over.
“I didn’t realize you wanted me to reveal the secrets of your line in front of everyone, Your Majesty,” Malachai answered. “But very well. This pendant was given to the High King Alaric by his own father. It contains the essence of both the bloodline of our ancestors and the person who originally cast the curse. It is why anyone who wears it is immune to the side-effects of what we—”
“Enough!” King Sterling cut him off. His eyes flashed dangerously, and if I hadn’t known any better, I would’ve sworn he was angry. “Very well, Malachai Braun. Given that the High King’s Privilege has come to you, you are hereby granted permanent immunity to all Alarian laws. You’re free to go.”
No one protested. Despite their ruthlessness, the Pures still valued the name of their first king a great deal, as evidenced by their choices in greetings and farewells. The council might not like the idea of Malachai receiving a pardon, but they would not question it.
“This trial is dismissed,” the king finished. “We will reconvene on a different day to discuss the matter of Ms. Hastings’s wedding to Darius.”
The idea that they wanted to marry Darius and Lucienne while he was in a coma still outraged me. Maybe it was foolish. Of course the Alarian royals would not want the future heir to be born out of wedlock. Besides, had he been cognizant, Darius might have actually wanted to marry Lucienne.
But Darius was still ill, and this felt an awful lot like the Alarians taking what little he had left from him. And then, there was Lucienne, who probably didn’t even understand what the Alarians wanted from her.
I really should have known better than to underestimate my soulmate. The king’s words almost seemed to have a magical effect on her, because her gaze cleared, her power settled, and she faced him without fear.
“It would be my honor, Your Majesty,” she answered smoothly. “Thank you for giving me the chance to belong to your family. I will not let you down.”
The king didn’t comment on the fact that Lucienne had been singing an entirely different tune not five minutes before. “I’m sure you won’t, Ms. Hastings. Now go. I believe we’ve had enough excitement for the moment. Mr. Braun, why don’t you make yourself useful and take your princess to her quarters? Inquisitor Lindberg, accompany them and make sure nothing of concern occurs.”
The contrast between Lucienne’s future title and Malachai’s lack of role almost made me flinch. Despite having agreed to give Malachai his freedom, Sterling wouldn’t just blindly accept whatever Malachai asked. He obviously didn’t intend to return Malachai to his previous position, and he still didn’t agree with Lucienne’s connection to him. And why would he? Malachai might have outmaneuvered the king with his sudden use of the pendant, but Lucienne still had Darius to worry about, and could not spurn the king without risking Darius’s life.
For the moment, no one seemed to have sussed out my true allegiance, but it was only a matter of time until that happened. It wasn’t a secret that Darius had been the one to promote me to the post of inquisitor.
This had the potential of blowing up in my face any moment now, but I didn’t let my apprehension show. “Yes, Your Majesty,” I answered instead. “With honor, we move forward.”
“Yes, Your Majesty,” Malachai echoed me. “Praised be the High King.”
I really wanted to laugh. Praised be the High King indeed. Without the fortuitous appearance of the pendant, this trial might have ended very differently. I had to admit Malachai had style. He’d managed to get another dig in at the Alarians and be polite at the same time. That was a feat very few people could accomplish.
It was also something that could backfire on us if we stayed here for much longer. With one final bow, I quickly ushered Lucienne out of the room. Malachai followed us without me having to say anything else. Thank the gods for small mercies.
The pendant in his fist was still glowing, the light a little less bright, but somehow, just as powerful. Lucienne kept staring at it as if she was hypnotized. She was so distracted that several times, she tripped and would have fallen if not for my grip on her arm.
“Lucienne, you look pale,” Malachai finally said after the fifth time she stumbled. “Are you all right?”
“Not really, no,” she answered, sounding dazed. “I think we should go see Darius.”
“His Majesty instructed me to take you to your quar
ters,” I answered. We were in public, and I didn’t have the luxury to drag her into a private room and tell her what I really wanted to do.
“Yes, but he didn’t instruct you to take me to my quarters right this instant,” Lucienne reasoned. “We can go visit Darius and then head back to my chambers, as His Majesty said.”
It was only semantics, and perhaps not something an Alarian would’ve actually accepted. It would have to do. I was too worried about Lucienne’s mental state to refuse her. “Very well, Ms. Hastings. As you wish.”
We changed directions and I guided both Lucienne and Darius into the healing wing. The guard on Darius’s room was just as tight as before. The paladins narrowed their eyes at Malachai when they saw us approach, but I waved off their concern. “Former Guardian Braun has received a pardon due to extenuating circumstances. We are here at Ms. Hastings request. She wishes to see Prince Darius.”
“In private,” Lucienne added.
That was when everything went horribly wrong. All of a sudden, Lucienne gasped and clutched her chest as if she was in pain. Her magic flared once again, so overwhelming I couldn’t hold onto her any longer.
The outburst sent everyone in her proximity—including me and Malachai—flying back. The paladins were knocked unconscious, unable to withstand the intensity of Lucienne’s power. Malachai and I were a little luckier than them. Her magic only jolted us but didn’t otherwise harm us.
I was more concerned about her well-being than my own. As soon as I recovered a little, I reached for her, just like I had earlier, in the courtroom. “Lucienne! Calm—”
“It’s Darius!” she shouted, viciously cutting me off mid-sentence. “Something is wrong with Darius!”
Without another word, she pushed past the fallen guards and ran into the healing room. I ran in after her, and what I found inside shook me to the core.
Eileen Vaughn was already with Darius, but her healing magic seemed to have no effect on him.
I should have blamed her for it. I should have gotten angry or stalked toward her like Lucienne was. Instead, I stood there, in the doorway, and with a mild dose of hysteria, thought that Eileen’s failure made sense. After all, healing magic did not work on people who were already dead.
All our efforts and betrayals had been for nothing. In the end, it had never been The Pure Council of Alaria we should have worried about. We should have known that Darius would not be able to withstand the Alarian Vow for much longer. It was too late now, and the thin thread of his life had snapped.
* * *
Darius
Earlier
“Are you just going to stand there or are you going to tell me what is going on at the trial?”
I glowered at Mathias, willing him to turn around and face me. He had been staring out at the indistinct ocean for the better part of the last ten minutes, if not more. It was very difficult to tell the time here and Mathias being uncooperative never helped.
“Hush now, dear,” he replied as if deliberately trying to make me angrier. “I’m trying to listen. It’s a little more difficult than usual.”
“More difficult?” I asked, narrowing my eyes at him. I could count the times Mathias had confessed to something being difficult on the fingers of one hand, and still have fingers left. “Why?”
“I’ve been looking into Lucienne’s mind to keep track of her motions. Unfortunately, she’s chosen this exact day to have trouble controlling her powers, which means I have to maneuver through a minefield to get to the information I’m trying to find.”
I didn’t bother chastising Mathias for spying on Lucienne through such a questionable method. He would not care one way or another. Such things were trivial to him, and I had to admit that considering my situation, I couldn’t exactly complain. It would’ve been far worse if I hadn’t known what was going on at all.
“Will she be all right?”
“I have no idea.” For the first time in what seemed like ages, Mathias looked at me. “I might try to pretend I know everything, but it’s not actually true.”
After that, silence fell over my mindscape. I allowed him to work and in return, he kept me posted on the highlights of the trial. Apparently, my parents had decided to marry Lucienne and me while I was still in a coma. That had not exactly been the way I’d planned to start a real relationship with Lucienne.
What a fucking mess.
Things became even more complicated when Malachai was brought in. My father was willing to compromise in my case, but Malachai was not so lucky. “At this rate, they’re going to execute him and there will be nothing Lucienne can do about it. Unless she plans on killing them all, of course.”
“That isn’t funny,” I chastised him. “Even if Lucienne had the power to do that, she wouldn’t go so far.”
“You underestimate your soulmate.” Mathias threw me a small, smug smirk. “I’ll have you know that—”
Before he could finish his sentence, his body lit up from within as if he was suddenly being consumed by an outside force. His eyes widened and he fell back on his ass in a display that would have amused me had the circumstances been different.
Unbidden, a thread of concern wormed its way inside me. Mathias had a lot of enemies. That sort of thing happened when you were older than dirt and went on semi-regular killing sprees. I had no idea what happened to his body when his mind was here. What if someone had attacked him? “Mathias? What’s wrong?”
As it turned out, Mathias’s reaction was not caused by any kind of threat directed at him. “Everything,” he answered almost absently. “What in the world is he doing with that? How can he possibly wield it?”
The sand underneath his feet started to turn into glass, and when he looked at me, his eyes were completely consumed by black, just like they had been during our ill-fated fight. The mental analogy made me even more apprehensive of what was going on in front of me than I’d already been.
For the moment, he hadn’t tried to gut me, which was progress. “Wield what?” I asked, walking up to him and pressing my hand to his shoulder. “What are you talking about?”
“The High King’s Privilege. Alaric’s pendant.” He clenched and unclenched his fists. “I didn’t expect this. This can’t be happening. It’s too soon.”
Mathias’s incoherent ramblings provided me with very few answers and even more questions. The High King’s Privilege was only a worthless relic of the past. Countless members of the Alarian royal family had tried to use it, but to no avail. Right now, its sole purpose was ceremonial. Upon reaching adulthood, we were all taken to the crypt of the High King. We attempted to use the pendant, unavoidably failed, but were acknowledged as heirs worthy of King Alaric’s name anyway.
I’d actually held the pendant in my hand when I’d been younger, but there had been no sign of its incredible power. It had felt a little warm to the touch, like the hold of someone else’s hand, but I had dismissed that as irrelevant. I wondered if perhaps I hadn’t made a mistake by disregarding the detail.
“Is that important?” I asked Mathias. “The pendant’s power has long ago been lost.”
“I thought so too, but apparently not,” Mathias replied between gritted teeth. “Something is not right here.”
That was the understatement of the century. “Mathias, we’re Accursed. We’re the very definition of not right.”
My words drew a small smile out of him. Surprisingly, the pitch black in his eyes began to fade. “Good point. More not right than usual, then? Last time I checked, Malachai Braun wasn’t Alarian and shouldn’t have been able to use Alaric’s pendant.”
I opened my mouth to ask him if he was joking. On some level, I knew he wasn’t, because Mathias never joked with such things. Even if he had been in the mood to tease me, he wouldn’t have included a delicate topic like Malachai and his potential survival.
The question died in my throat. All of a sudden, there was a sharp crack, and pain exploded over me, catching me completely unprepared. I stumbled and fell,
clutching my head in agony and confusion.
“Darius? Darius, what’s wrong?”
Had I not been in a tremendous amount of pain, I’d have probably found it funny that he was pretty much repeating the question I had asked earlier. Maybe I would have teased him about it too. But I was too busy trying not to fall apart to focus on that. Fuck, this felt just like the first time I’d had to face the Alarian Vow, before Bjorn had intervened and kept me from killing myself with my own emotions. Had Mathias’s enchantment finally cracked? This was bad.
I blinked, and the world started to go fuzzy around the edges. The next thing I knew, I was lying down on the sand, with a concerned-looking Mathias Vandale looming above me, cupping my cheek. “Darius. Darius, look at me.”
I tried to comply, but my vision was blurry. How was that possible? This was my mindscape. My senses were supposed to be perfect, right? High King help me, it looked like I’d run out of luck even there.
Mathias must have guessed my thoughts like he always did because he promptly provided me with an explanation. It wasn’t one I liked very much. “You’re not out of luck. You’re dying. I’m not sure if the Alarian Vow has finally taken its toll on your body or if there’s foul play at work, but that doesn’t matter. If we don’t act now, it’ll be too late. We’re out of time. You have to make your choice. You can either trust me, or you’ll die.”
I didn’t reply. Beyond Mathias’s shoulder, I caught a vague glimpse of my mental representation of the Palasion crumbling. The skies were going dark, night falling over my mindscape. The ocean of my thoughts was bubbling and boiling, already starting to evaporate.
“I can’t force you to give me control of your body,” Mathias continued, his hold on me tightening. “The results would be disastrous. But I’m telling you the truth. I want to help you. I swear.”
I still didn’t trust him. He had tried to hurt Lucienne. Could I really give him unhindered access to her, to everything I’d known and loved?