“I have more important things on my mind than money.”
“Clearly. Now, money is only one small portion of this, and it won’t be enough in and of itself. The people will need to see a display of your power. You will show your skeptics that the sea chose you because of your might.”
“You’re suggesting I organize a demonstration.”
“Exactly. You won’t win everyone over, but it will make your sister question the wisdom in challenging you.”
“I would need a large audience for this to be effective.”
“The bigger the better in this case. As soon as your anointing is complete, you’ll need to send out a mandate and gather everyone at the cliffs. Once they see what you can do, they won’t be able to help themselves. They will support you.”
Silvano clasped her hands in his. “Thank you, Olielle. You are a true friend.”
“It’s no more than we’d already planned, except this time, you’ve returned as a fully Gifted instead of a shamed dreg. You’ve earned this.”
“I can only hope the people feel the same way.”
“They will.” Her face fell, and she pulled him into an embrace. “Sil… when I heard the reports that you’d died…”
“Why didn’t you wait for me?” he whispered, wrapping his arms around her.
Her eyes turned glassy, and she reached up to cup his jaw in her hand. “I tried. When I heard that you were dead… it was like a knife in my heart. I wanted to wait, but my father married me off as soon as the mourning period was over. It turned out for the best though. Autoro is a good man.”
He rested his forehead against hers. “Are you happy?”
A soft smile bloomed on her face, transforming her features until she was the vision of a goddess. Slowly, she lowered her hands until they rested on her belly. “We are.”
“Congratulations!” Silvano beamed at her. “May your home and family forever be blessed.”
“Thank you.” She made a shooing motion with her hands. “Now get out of here. You have work to do!”
6
The next morning, Silvano stood at the edge of the sea and inhaled the comforting scent of seawater as gulls cried nearby. The waves crashed over his boots in a violent caress, greeting their new master. He craned his neck to look up at the sheer cliffs where perhaps a thousand had gathered to watch. From this distance, they were nothing more than tiny specks, but that wouldn’t make a difference in a moment. It was time. After this, it would leave no question that he was the rightful ruler of Crystalmoor. He would prove he was strong enough to lead them into the future. A better future for them all, nobility, commoners, and dregs alike.
Wherever his sister was, he hoped she was watching.
The thought brought a smile to his face. He didn’t know what game she was playing, but it was irrelevant. He had won.
After visiting with Olielle, Silvano had sent two of his guards to the treasury to retrieve a veritable fortune which he promptly dumped at the feet of the high priest. Miraculously, the priests declared that the sea god had spoken, choosing him to be the Miestryri.
He touched a teardrop of sea glass now embedded between his brows. The ceremony had been painful, just as it was meant to be—a reminder that the Miestryri must be willing to suffer and bleed for his people. The priest had anointed him with seawater, symbolizing his rebirth as Miestryri, shedding his former identity and attachments. A Miestryri must put his people first before anyone else. Afterward, the priests had taken a ceremonial blade and carved his forehead before slipping the sea glass beneath the skin. The Healer had healed it cleanly, leaving behind a permanent symbol of rule. A crown could be taken by force, but the sea glass was bonded to his flesh. From today until his last day, he lived to serve his people.
So why did it feel like he lived to serve the priests instead? He hadn’t missed the high priest’s saccharine smile, or his parting, “We’ll be in touch,” the moment the Healers had closed the wound. Somehow, he didn’t believe that the high priest would be content with gold and jewels. Though he couldn’t imagine what the priest would actually want. Outside of anointing Miestryris, the priesthood stayed out of politics, choosing to live their lives in service to the sea god.
He shook off the concern and focused on the task at hand. There would be plenty of time to worry about the high priest’s meddling later.
The sea churned around his legs, and his power swelled deep inside his core in response. It begged to be channeled and used, and he was more than delighted to oblige.
The warm breeze carried a gentle murmur from the cliffs. He took a deep breath. It was time.
Without wasting another moment, Silvano reached his hands to the side, gathering the water beneath him. He was about to do something he’d never attempted before. If he succeeded, his people would talk about this moment for generations to come. If he failed now, he would be shamed in front of his people. He could not fail. When Opal had awakened his Gift weeks ago in Tregydar, it had become apparent why the palace Magi had refused to Gift him as an infant—he was obnoxiously strong. Strong enough to threaten the Order. Strong enough to scare the Head Magi.
Strong enough to claim his birthright.
His blood called to the water. Even now, standing with his boots in the sea, he could almost hear it roaring at him. He was the Master of the Sea, the Miestryri Lei Miore’, and it was time his people knew it.
He pulled the streams of water slowly, letting them swirl around him like liquid serpents. His crocodile-skin coat flapped in the wind. He pulled more, feeling the waves rise beneath his fingertips. And still, it wasn’t enough. He’d barely tapped into his potential. If he wished, he could raise a tsunami that would crest the cliff and punish the people for their gossip and lies. The thought of that much power gave him a heady feeling. The people were at his mercy. The people were his to protect.
The water swirled faster, spinning around him in a cyclone. He fastened it around his torso like a clamp, allowing it to lift him up into the air. A laugh escaped his lips, and he channeled more water into the funnel, lifting him higher and higher until he was at eye level with those standing on the cliff. The people backed away from the edge, giving him wide-eyed stares. Some sank to their knees immediately. Others looked like they were trying to decide if they should run.
What did they see when they witnessed his power? A conqueror? A savior? A god?
He moved closer to the cliff and stepped onto the rock, lifting the water behind him until it formed a wall. He tilted his head up so the sunlight would catch the sea glass in his forehead. Even if they still questioned him, the authority of being anointed Miestryri should win them over.
“My people, I greet you today, not as a conqueror, but as a servant. You may have been misled by the false rumors and allowed your feelings to get the better of you. Rest assured, I have no intention of harming you—I want to serve you. For too long, we have been separated by class, allowing the poorest to suffer. No more. I want our nation to grow and prosper. A rising tide raises all ships! And with your support, your blessing, I will become the greatest Miestryri Crystalmoor has ever known. Together, we will lead our country into an era of unprecedented peace and prosperity!” He let the words hang in the air as he met the gazes of those surrounding him. A few whispers broke out, but most stayed silent, waiting to see what he would do next. Silvano gestured behind him, releasing his hold on the water. It whooshed back into the sea where it merged with the waves, sending a spray of water in every direction. “The sea has chosen me. Will you?”
Now, the whispers grew louder as the people turned to one another. It was not the reaction he’d hoped for. His heart clenched painfully at the smattering of half-hearted applause. After all that, only a third of the audience stepped forward and knelt at his feet while the rest backed away, exchanging fearful glances. A few stood on the outskirts, arms folded across their chests, glaring defiantly. Silvano’s guards noticed and edged closer. The protesters weren’t doing anything to war
rant being arrested, but it was comforting to know that any trouble they caused would be dealt with swiftly. His eyes drifted to the silver ribbons pinned to their tunics, embroidered with his father’s crest—a ship being crushed by a giant squid. His eyes widened, and he shoved through the crowd of retreating bodies to get closer. There was only one person brazen enough to claim the Miestryri’s symbol while another claimed the throne—Arianna.
Was she here? Had she finally come to see him?
The sudden anxiety he felt took him by surprise. He’d expected to feel hurt and betrayed. Instead, he wanted her approval.
He had to find her. She needed to know what had happened to their father. If he could just have time to explain, she would understand. She had to. She’d always been aloof and reserved in public, but when it was just the two of them together, her edges had softened. She’d curl up with him on the settees in the castle library, begging him to tell her about the mother she’d never met, so cruelly taken from her. Silvano would kiss her on the nose and cross his eyes, just to make her giggle. When her Gift had manifested, Silvano would help her practice for hours each day, allowing her to buffet him with streams of water until he collapsed to the ground, laughing and soaking wet.
He had to believe that she would support him. She’d always been ambitious, but he couldn’t imagine that she’d truly turn on him. If he could just speak with her, she would side with him. They could join forces and make Crystalmoor a better place. He and Olielle had spent countless nights plotting what he they would do together. There was too great a disparity between the nobility and the commoners, and even more of a gap between the commoners and the dregs. He wanted a better life for them all, but there was nothing he could do if their loyalties were divided. If they rejected him.
Unless that’s what Arianna wanted.
Maybe she wanted him to flounder without support. Without supporters, she could issue a challenge, and she would unseat him easily.
Silvano motioned to Jax to investigate, but before he could follow, Olielle intercepted him. She’d traded her suvali-inspired gown for Crystalmoor’s more traditional dress. The light green fabric cinched above her growing waist with a pleated skirt that skimmed the bottom of her knees. “That was… well, nothing short of spectacular. When I suggested a demonstration, I didn’t expect that.”
He flushed at the compliment. “That was restrained.”
“Phew. Well, if that was restrained, I wouldn’t want to see you completely let go.”
“You and me both.” He gestured to the near-empty area, trying to keep the disappointment from his voice. “Regardless, it doesn’t seem to have helped.”
Olielle placed a hand on his arm and turned him to face her. She took one look at his glum expression and jutted a finger in his face. “You listen to me, Silvano lei Miore’. The people needed to see this. Arianna has been working the general populace for years. They know her. Did you really expect that you could change the tides in one day? Gaining their support and their loyalty will take time, but you will achieve it. Look at what you just did! You scaled a one-hundred-foot cliff with nothing but the power of your Gift. Your sister can’t do that, and they know it.”
“But they were scared of me.”
“Of course they were! I’ve known you since we were infants, and what you just did was terrifying. You inspire awe and fear and that’s something that can’t be faked. Haven’t you ever been afraid of someone’s Gift?”
Silvano opened his mouth to reply with an emphatic no, then closed it. He did fear someone—Mara. Just the memory of her tearing through Order Headquarters, laying waste to everything and everyone in it, was enough to send him into cold sweats. His mouth dried. “That’s not exactly the response I hope to inspire in my people.”
Olielle must have picked up on his inner turmoil. She reached out and looped her arm through his and offered him a soft smile. “Don’t worry. It’s a beginning. In time, you will earn their trust. And then, nothing will tear it from you.”
“Thank you, Olielle.” He pulled her into an embrace and pressed a kiss to the crown of her head. “What would I do without you?”
“Probably flounder about like a fish in the sand.” Her eyes sparkled, and she laughed. “Come, it’s time you become reacquainted with the nobility. They’ve been following the memory of a specter for so long that they should be reminded of who their leader is.”
He grimaced. “Must we? I see no need to ruin a perfectly good morning.”
“Behave yourself.” She threw him a sharp look that brokered no argument before leading him toward a group of nobles standing on a shaded terrace. Vines wove through the lattice roof, and the musky scent of the nearby wisteria trees filled his nostrils. A handful of servants bustled about, carrying trays of oysters on the half-shell, prawns, and long-stemmed glasses of champagne.
For a moment, he wished he were just another nobleman enjoying a pleasant morning. The reclining chairs by the reflection pool looked particularly inviting. Children, with their pants and skirts hiked up above their knees, waded in the shallows while their parents scolded them about proper behavior. Judging by their giggles and shrieks, the lesson was sticking as well as water to a duck’s back.
At his approach, the men bowed, and the women curtsied. Most were older and had served under his father. It was highly unlikely that they would be on board with the radical changes he planned to make. Silvano didn’t understand why Olielle would parade him around this crowd until he spotted a group of men and women his age—the heirs to their parents’ fortunes. While they didn’t hold any legitimate power yet, they would one day.
He recognized Valeria from the parties he’d attended in his youth, and only Olielle’s iron grip on his arm kept him from turning around and walking the other way. Valeria’s thick, black hair was pulled into a knot at the crown of her head, and long, seashell earrings dipped in silver trailed down to her collarbone. She stood from her shallow curtsy and smoothed the rose-colored fabric of her gown. Her hand lingered at her waist—no doubt intentionally. “Miestryri, a pleasure to see you again,” she simpered.
“I wish I could say the same,” he muttered under his breath. Olielle elbowed him in the side, and he quickly said, “And I, you.”
“I was distraught when I heard of your death. It’s a relief to see you alive and well.” Without breaking eye contact, she plucked an oyster from a passing tray and swallowed it down whole, licking the juice from her lips.
Silvano tried his hardest not to gag. “Funny, I seem to recall you wishing I would jump off the cliff after I rejected your advances.”
Her responding laugh was forced and just a tad too high-pitched to be natural. “Oh Silvano, you’re positively wicked.”
“Lady Valeria, show some respect to our new Miestryri. Speaking with such informality is unbecoming to us all,” Lord Pierce cut in. Silvano could have kissed him. Lord Pierce had been one of his father’s staunchest supporters until a monumental disagreement had fractured their friendship. Since then, he used every opportunity to speak out against the Miestryri, using his wealth and influence as a shield against retribution. In his prime, he’d been a force to be reckoned with when dealing with the Belosian pirates, though old age, too much drink, and the death of his third wife had clearly taken their toll. Regardless, he would make a valuable ally.
Silvano slipped back into the familiar, albeit unwelcome, role with ease and plastered a charming smile on his face. “Thank you, my lord. It’s wonderful that you could attend this morning.”
“I’m glad I did. It was quite… enlightening.”
Not one to be ignored, Valeria sashayed across the veranda. She crowded close to him, running a hand down his crocodile-skin coat. Silvano threw a panicked look at Olielle, who looked like she was trying not to laugh. Valeria leaned forward on her tiptoes. Her breath tickled his ear as she whispered, “Well, I wouldn’t have missed it for the world. Perhaps you could return the favor? I’m hosting a gala at my villa this evening, a
nd it would be incredible if you would make an appearance.”
“I’m afraid I’ll have to decline.” He stepped back, putting a more respectable—and comfortable—distance between them. “With the responsibilities of ruling a nation, it’s unlikely that I will be free for certain frivolities.”
Disappointment flashed across her face. Before she could respond, Lord Adwyn said, “That is a relief to hear. I’ll admit I was worried when we’d heard of your return. We couldn’t afford to have a reckless Miestryri at such a crucial time, and you have a certain… reputation.” His beady eyes squinted until his pupils all but disappeared, making him look like a disgruntled turtle. Silvano would have happily ignored him, except for the fact that Lord Adwyn controlled the largest sea glass export in Crystalmoor. The revenue in taxes alone would be critical for funding Silvano’s plans.
Lady Liola, a waspish woman with a vinegar tongue and a penchant for gossip, said, “Indeed. Your escapades are legendary, and not in a good way. If my Ambrose had convinced the sea god’s priestesses to go skinny dipping on a full moon, I would have had him keelhauled. If you think…”
Silvano tuned out the rest of her righteous tirade. Valeria, likely disgruntled by his cold shoulder, slipped away to join a group by the pool. Frowning, Olielle tracked her movement. She lowered her voice so only Silvano could hear it. “I know the two of you have a shaky history, but her father owns three quarters of the fishing fleet. How do you think he’ll react if she tells him how you’ve treated her?”
He groaned. Political maneuvering and catering to the whims of sycophants was not how he’d planned to spend his day. That was Olielle’s strength, so if she thought it was best, he supposed he’d have to tolerate it. He nodded reluctantly.
“Well said, Lady Liola!” Lord Adwyn waggled a finger in Silvano’s direction. “Once a reprobate, always a reprobate, I say. A tiger shark can’t change its stripes, after all.”
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