by Jenna Moreci
Tobias flinched. “You knew?”
“Pardon?”
“That Raphael was going home today. You knew. For how long?”
Something had shifted in his voice—coarse and stern—and in his gaze, which bore through Her, an onyx knife.
A new color lifted from his flesh.
Red.
“I…” Leila stammered. “I’m not entirely sure.”
“But you knew before the Sovereign’s Choice. And you didn’t tell me?”
“There are more important things—”
“More important than release?” he hissed. “Than being free of this madness? Than a life with you as opposed to watching men die around me, waiting my turn.”
“Tobias—”
“Do you know how badly I wanted to be released today?” He curled his hands, red spilling between his fingers like blood. “Not so I could see my mother or sister, but so I could spend the rest of my days with you. God, and to think I barked at the Sovereign, hoping by some miracle he’d throw my ass out of this damn tournament.”
Leila faltered. “Is that what that was about?”
“Why else would I humiliate myself? Not to mention put my life in jeopardy. I’m surprised he didn’t kill me himself.”
“He wouldn’t.”
“Is that so?” he scoffed. “Yet he sics Drake on you like a damn hound.”
“He wouldn’t just kill you. It’s not part of his plan.”
“His plan? What plan?” He flung his arms into the air. “This is what I mean. My life hangs in the balance, and I’m lost. All these schemes, and I haven’t a clue. You knew Raphael was leaving. What else do you know? What are you hiding?”
The red was consuming, blanketing the room. He doesn’t know who You are. She had told Herself it was better this way, that She was protecting him—all lies. Tobias was breaking before Her, collapsing beneath his troubles. She could’ve lifted them, but She didn’t.
She took in a trembling breath. “I can explain—”
“Brontes was telling the truth, wasn’t he? I’m in over my head. And you’re lying to me.”
“Tobias—”
“You’re lying to me, aren’t you?”
Leila opened Her mouth to speak. Tell him. But there was only silence, and the despair that crossed Tobias’s face was enough to wound Her.
“God, see?” Wincing, he shook his head. “You can’t even say it.”
“I’m not lying to you.” Her voice wavered. “I mean, there are things I haven’t told you—”
“Enough. I can’t take it.”
“I’ll tell you everything,” She said. “Right now. Whatever you want to know.”
“I don’t want to know. Not anymore.”
“Just let me speak, I promise I’ll—”
“Enough!” His bellow crashed through Her, echoing in Her bones. “You’re a liar. You leave me hanging, and I let you, because I…” His eyes clenched shut. “Because I’m stupid. I’m just a pawn in some game you’re playing with the Sovereign.”
“That isn’t true.” Tears came of their own bidding, streaking Her cheeks. “I’ve done nothing but try to protect us. I promise, I’ll tell you everything right now. I swear it.”
“It’s too late. Flynn knows. The damage is done.”
“It’s not. It’s not done.” With a deep breath, She came in closer. “Tobias, things aren’t as they seem. I’m—”
“Stop it.”
“I’m trying to—”
“I said stop.”
“Tobias, please let me speak—”
“For God’s sake, why?” he barked. “So you can lie to me again and again? I am done being toyed with. I am done being used and bartered and played.”
“That’s not what’s happening. You know how I feel for you. You know what we have—”
“What we have is a mistake. You are nothing more than a mistake.”
His words rammed Her in the chest, pounded Her in the jaw; She felt them everywhere, a resounding pain. The sobs died in Her lungs, leaving Her still. The man She adored wasn’t standing before Her any longer. That mass of red and those wicked remarks were too familiar. Too much like Her father.
The red thinned, revealing Tobias’s shamed stare. “Leila, I didn’t mean that.”
“Oh no, you meant it,” She said.
His eyes glistened over. Clearing his throat, he took a tentative step forward. “I’m here for Cosima whether I like it or not. What I want and how I feel…it doesn’t matter. We have to end things. I couldn’t bear it if something happened to you. We have to end things, because I have no choice.”
“Is that all?”
“I’m just trying to do the right thing.”
“Is that all, Tobias?”
The red was gone. It had disappeared so quickly, though the room remained thick and heated. The fire belonged to Leila now. She would make this man burn.
“Leila, can you just… Can you say something? Can you speak to me?”
“Speak to you?” She said. “Why? So I can lie again and again?”
“Leila, I didn’t mean—”
“You didn’t mean it?” She spat. “Were you lying? No, you wouldn’t dare. Now if I’m to understand you correctly, we’re done, yes?”
“Yes.”
Another blow, but this time She was ready. She held Her chin high. “Well then, I suppose this is the part where I tell you to go fuck yourself.”
“Leila—”
“Go.” She cocked Her head at the door. “You’re dismissed.”
“I just had to—”
“Leave.”
“Leila, I’m—”
“Get out!”
She hadn’t intended to scream—to reveal Her wounds. Tobias stared at Her, his eyes wide and wet, and another cloud encircled him—black, again. God, She wished She could revel in the sight. It shouldn’t have pained Her as much as it did.
Nodding, he and his misery left the room.
Leila sucked in a breath. Her body shook, the air in Her lungs insufficient, as if something was smothering Her from within. Tears came in a violent rush, shaming Her. She had known betrayal, deceit, and death. Why did this, of all things, hurt so badly?
Barely contained, She summoned Her light. The warmth of Her power came and went, but She kept Her gaze on the floor, leaving Her with brown panels and a familiar laugh.
“Is that right?” Delphi cooed. “Well, I happen to find these curves quite worthy of admiration.”
A giggle sounded, followed by a squeak.
“Leila?” Delphi said. “Good God, what did I tell You about—?” Her voice stopped short. “Oh no. Nyx, sweet beauty, let’s continue another time, yes?”
The servant fluttered off, closing the door behind her. Only then did Leila look Delphi’s way, the vision of Her sister clouded by tears.
“What happened?”
“He left Me.” Leila’s voice broke. “He said it’s over. He wants nothing to do with Me.”
Delphi’s face dropped. “Come here.”
Leila ran to the bed, throwing Herself into Delphi’s arms. Between sobs and shudders, She choked out what She could of the story, demeaned by Her emotions. She was stronger than this, yet with a few words, Tobias had torn Her to shreds.
“I should’ve told him.” Leila buried Her head in Delphi’s lap, gripping at her dress. “I tried to, but it was too late. He was so angry. He looked just like Brontes.”
“He is not Your father.” Delphi ran her fingers through Leila’s hair. “He feels betrayed. He’s hurting.”
“I should’ve told him sooner. I just thought…” The words died in Her throat. “Please don’t say I told You so, I can’t right now, I—”
“I would never say that.”
Another caress. Leila tried to revel in the comfort, but the tears never ceased.
“This will right itself,” Delphi said.
“It won’t.”
“Relationships are complicated.”
/> Leila scoffed. “Is that right? I hadn’t noticed.”
Brontes. She saw him again, a ghost forever haunting Her. The vision was a clawed hand ripping apart whatever shreds of Her remained. She clenched Her eyes shut, fighting to free Herself of his visage, but there he stayed.
“What is it about Me…that makes Me so hard to love?”
“I love You,” Delphi said.
The ache in Her chest lifted enough for Her to take in a breath.
“Tobias does too.” Delphi pushed Leila’s hair behind Her ear. “You know this.”
“He hates Me.”
“He loves You, just as You love him.”
Leila shook Her head. “I don’t love him.”
Of all the lies She’d ever told, She wished the most that this one was true.
29
The Keys
Leila stared out the window. Brontes’s window.
A crystal fountain, manicured trees, marble benches reflecting the morning sunlight. Nothing unusual. She slid Her hand down the golden pane. No parchment. The traitor must’ve taken it. Dammit. She’d check again later.
Voices sounded behind Her—servants whispering about the Viewing. The tournament competitors were to be presented to the visiting royals in a short while. Tobias would be among them. Of course he would be.
You are nothing more than a mistake.
A pang lanced through Her, reopening the still-fresh wound. She headed down the stairs.
“Leila.”
A servant appeared beside the courtyard window, arms crossed and eyes narrowed.
“Faun?” Leila retraced Her steps. “A bath so soon? I thought we had plenty of time—”
“What the hell is going on?” Faun spat.
“Excuse Me?”
“We knew You didn’t favor the tournament, but to hide Your title from Your realm? To let the men believe they fight for Your sister?”
A brick landed in Leila’s gut. “It’s complicated.”
“Apparently so. Half the staff saw You kicking and screaming while the Sovereign dragged You to the hearing. Then You cut off the Dragon’s ear, all because he sought Your attention.”
“What did you—?”
“And last night You’re heard crying for hours.” Faun lowered her voice. “Do You realize what people are saying?”
“I did not cut off Drake’s ear—”
“They’re calling you Megaera. They’re saying You’re the new mad Savior.”
The air evacuated Leila’s lungs. Mad. That’s what Her staff thought of Her.
“I don’t want to believe it,” Faun said. “But armed guards are escorting You through Your own palace for the safety of Your staff.”
Leila opened Her mouth to speak, only to stop short. There’s a traitor within these walls. Could She even trust Faun? “I said, it’s complicated.”
Faun came in closer. “Reveal Yourself to these men. End the rumors once and for all.”
“Why do you care so much about My decisions? They have no effect on you.”
“At least explain to me this insanity,” Faun said. “Why the lies? Leila, we worry for You. I’m trying to understand as Your friend—”
“We are not friends.”
Faun froze, taken aback. “I see. Excuse my tone then, Your Holiness. Good day.”
She bowed before leaving, and her silence ate at Leila, another burden She hadn’t need for. Leila steadied Herself. She was right to be skeptical. She was right to be vexed.
A lump lodged in Her throat, but She swallowed it and carried on.
“I’m losing.”
Leila sat on the carved sill of Talos’s cell, knees pulled into Her chest. Talos waited on the bench beside Her, gazing out at the dungeon. She liked it like that. She didn’t want anyone to look at Her, certain Her shame was written across Her face.
“There is time left, Your Holiness,” Talos said.
“The tournament ends in three days.” She shook Her head. “That doesn’t even matter. Brontes’s plan has changed. I could die at any moment. Have you heard anything?”
“With the assassins in the palace, they have plenty of places to meet in secret. They don’t need the dungeon any longer.”
Leila didn’t respond, staring at the bars ahead.
“Are You giving up?”
“I can’t give up,” She said. “If I give up, I die. And if I die, the realm dies with Me.”
“What move would You like to make next?”
“I don’t know.”
“How can I aid You?”
“I don’t know. I don’t know anything, I…” She hung Her head. There wasn’t a point in pretending. She was neck-deep in shit and sinking. Even Tobias had abandoned Her.
“Would You like to hear stories of Your mother, Little Light?”
“No.”
Cold air wafted through the cell. Was it ever cold anywhere in Thessen? She tightened Her hold around Her legs, resting Her cheek on Her knees.
“Did She love you?” She whispered.
Talos was quiet for a while. “No, Little Light. She loved the Sterling. A Lord.”
“Dumb bitch.”
“She was free to love whomever She pleased.”
Leila sighed. “Sometimes I think about what it would be like…if you were My father, instead of Brontes.”
Talos said nothing.
“Everything would be so different,” She said. “My mother would still be alive. There’d be no Senate, no schemes. I can’t even imagine a life like that.” She scooted closer to him, threading Her hand into his boulder of a fist. “If you were My father, would you have made Me follow the tournament?”
“It’s tradition.”
“You were kidnapped, tortured, and locked away because of this tradition.”
His brow creased, his thoughts visibly turning. “You are The Savior. If You were not fond of the tournament…I suppose You could’ve swayed my opinion.” He eyed Her over. “Is the Artist well?”
“I don’t care how the Artist fares.”
“He’s fallen out of Your favor?”
Tears pricked Her eyes. “It seems I’ve fallen out of his.”
“Dumb bitch.”
Talos sat stiff and uncomfortable, but the smile in his eyes coaxed one across Her lips, Her tears brimming at the surface.
Rumbling. The wall beyond the cell shook, dust spilling from between the stacked stones.
“What is that?” Leila said.
Talos sat tall. “I don’t know.”
Another spray of dirt, and the stones retracted from one another like a mouth opening wide. A man trudged from the hidden portal, a torch in hand and a silver breastplate across his chest.
Erebus.
He fumbled with his ring of keys before stopping before the cell. His deep-set eyes locked with Leila’s, a second that lasted an eternity, and he bolted back through the portal.
Leila leapt from the sill, sliding between the cell bars and sprinting into the darkness. A tunnel stretched out before Her, pitch black save for the bobbing light of Erebus’s torch. Shadow walk, but She’d never been here before, hadn’t known of its existence in the first place.
A tunnel beneath the palace, another mystery to solve.
The sound of Her feet slapping against dirt bounced off the walls. The torch shone farther and farther away, so She forced Herself forward, wrangling every ounce of strength and speed. What will You do once You reach him? Erebus was a warrior, the one Senator She couldn’t kill. But he had seen Her in the dungeon. He would tell Her father. She ran faster.
The light of the torch clattered to the floor. Leila caught up to it—abandoned at a crossroads, the tunnel splitting in two directions. She fought to silence Her breathing, listening for the echo of Erebus’s footsteps. To the right. She followed.
Darkness blinded Her journey. She tripped once, tumbling to the dirt, then righted Herself. Finally, a glow in the distance—another portal. The pounding of Her heart turned to thunder, and She d
ashed through the opening.
Leila slid to a stop. Grey stone floor, plaster walls. This was the southern wing of the palace, but what concerned Her were the guards accumulating around the portal. One stared at Her, perplexed.
“Your Holiness, what is…?”
Erebus walked at a brisk pace far ahead. She shouldered past the mob. “Excuse Me.”
She left them to their questions, following in Erebus’s footsteps. Faster. He rounded a corner, and Her heart lurched. Holding Her breath, She half-walked, half-jogged, looking back at the guards as She disappeared down the adjacent corridor.
Leila launched into a sprint. The passage was empty, and Erebus was far ahead, his body propelled like a spear. He can’t tell Brontes. She channeled Her power, heat rising within Her as She burst into light once, twice, farther and farther down the corridor until Erebus was right in front of Her.
Take Me to him.
She dissolved amid wisps of fire, reappearing with a slap against his back, toppling him. Without a hint of exertion, he rolled from beneath Her, flinging Her into the wall. Pain spiked through Her, but there wasn’t time for weakness. She staggered to Her feet, shooting around the corner Erebus had taken.
The corridor was vacant. She searched the walls for hidden portals, peeked inside doorways, but there was nothing. She swallowed a cry, desperation fueling Her footsteps as She bolted into the throne room.
A fist rammed into Her gut, crumpling Her to the floor.
Leila gasped for air, consumed by the throbbing ache. A kick to the ribs, and She cringed, grasping at the floor as She fought past the suffering. Staggering to Her feet, She drew Her blade and thrust it forward, but the sharpened steel froze, caught in Erebus’s grasp. Blood trickled between his fingers, and he yanked the blade from Her grip, tossing it aside.
Leila stumbled. Erebus stood unfazed before Her, his body the only weapon he needed. He lunged for Her, but She burst into nothingness, reappearing behind him. Another attempt, but She dissolved away, materializing beside Her throne.
The Senator stared at Her, unblinking. She could play this game all day, but She didn’t need escape—She needed him dead. Her eyes flitted to Her discarded blade, and She channeled Her light, appearing at its side. She swiped up the weapon only for Erebus to grab Her wrists, tweaking and wrenching until the blade clattered to Her feet. She writhed within his grasp to no avail, and he threw Her to the floor.