And she was still alive.
I shivered in my water, but not from cold.
Not much was known about wraiths, but they were plagues upon the existence of men. Wraiths, demons, imps—they were known as different things across the earth. Their evil deeds during mortality cursed them to an eternity of torment, denied the very thing they wanted most. Instead they sought for those like them that hadn’t crossed beyond life as hosts to do their pleasure.
They were a reminder to mortals of what bad deeds could lead to in the afterlife.
At least they should have been. My uncle had obviously forgotten the priests and shaman that still warned of their presence.
I smiled to myself, hoping that Cy haunted Riaan in his sleep.
I swirled in my bath to Sameen, forcing my thoughts elsewhere. “Your king is something of a prat, isn’t he?”
“Compared to your uncle, he’s a saint.”
And how could I argue with that?
Sameen suppressed a smile and spun me around with strong hands. She doused me with a pitcher of water to rinse the suds from my hair. I coughed through the downpour.
“No,” she said. “King Riaan is a really good man. Like his father.”
I tipped my head, letting the water drain from one ear. Curiosity tugged. “And Castiel?”
It felt like forever before she finally gave me the answer I sought. “Like his mother. Hurry, Lady Anna.” She left to prepare my clothes.
But what did that mean? I leaned my cheek against the rim of the tub. “Sameen?”
“Yes, my dear?”
“When we’re alone, can you call me by my real name?” I didn’t know why it was important. Maybe because I had lost my home, my kingdom, and my freedom. While I didn’t necessarily regret that decision as of yet, I didn’t want to lose my identity too.
She stood next to the screen, a new pair of blue slippers in her hand. “Of course, Prin—”
“Ilianna. Just plain Ilianna.”
She hesitated, then nodded.
“Are those for me?” I asked, indicating to the shoes.
She smiled. “New shoes and a new dress on the way.”
“Really?” Was it excitement that flurried in my chest?
Confusion wrinkled her soft face. “You act so shocked.” Before I could answer, a knock sounded. She jumped with a clap. “That must be it.” She draped a washcloth over the edge of the tub. “I’ll return to scrub your back.”
I ducked below the waterline to rinse any remaining soap from my hair. When I resurfaced, I wiped the excess from my face. Exhaustion tugged at my mind. I didn’t want to go to dinner with the king or the prince. Too many things had happened that day and my nerves were too high-strung. But what choice did I have?
None.
I sighed when Sameen pushed me forward to scrub my back and neck but hissed when she touched upon a sore spot.
“Sorry,” she mumbled.
I almost laughed. “It’s not your fault.”
“Yes it is,” the voice said from behind, and I swirled in the tub.
It was not Sameen who washed me, but Melia.
“What are you—”
“I should have known.” She nodded, accepting her own statement as fact. Her eyes searched me, her expression hardened. “Had you told me, had Castiel warned me earlier—”
“Stop.” Anger grew, and I would no longer cower in my bath. I stood in all my glory, allowing the water to cascade down my exposed body. Melia rose with me.
I had earned ever last stripe received. Every mark. Every bruise. I would not be ashamed. The scars that could not be healed by Gedeon stood as witness to a previous life I would no longer accept as mine. The statement mollified me, consoled me.
My door opened and closed and a moment later. “I’m back. I can’t wait—” Sameen gasped when she passed the privacy screen. “Captain Melia, what are you doing here. And Lady Anna, where is your towel?”
“Ilianna, remember?” But I kept my focus upon Melia. “And this was not for the prince to tell.”
“You were beaten by your uncle,” Melia said, but I ignored the accusation. She pointed to my neck. “The wraith said your uncle did that to you. Did he burn you, Ilianna?”
“So this whole time you were reporting on me?” I asked to change the subject.
She crossed her arms over her chest. “Of course. You were a leader in Johan’s militia. Would you really expect any different?” Despite my glare, she scoured every inch of my exposed skin before Sameen stepped forward to wrap me in a bathrobe. “This”—she flung her hand my direction—“was needed information. I know all about my soldiers. There is not a scratch on their body that I don’t make my responsibility to know.”
I pulled the robe tighter around me and stepped out of the tub. “I am not your soldier.”
“Maybe not, but you are my responsibility, and there’s a point I’m trying to make that I think you understand.”
“No.”
“No, what?”
“I don’t understand. What does it matter if I have scars? Why do you people believe that scars are so terrible?”
“This is not a secret to keep to yourself, Ilianna. There is no dishonor in the truth. What he did was wrong.”
I swallowed hard. No one had ever said that before. Reaffirmed the same truth that screamed from my own soul.
What he did was wrong. It was all wrong.
Melia stood straighter. “Johan is evil.”
Tears stung the back of my eyes. “Yes. He is, but I don’t need to say it to know it. And over time even your healer can erase what he did to me.”
She shook her head, then suddenly seized me in an embrace I did not expect. I froze beneath her touch and she recognized it. She sighed, her breath against my ear. “Gedeon cannot heal what has been done to you. Only you can.” Then she pulled away, releasing me, and took a step back. “I didn’t mean to frighten you. I’m sorry.”
“You—” I shook my head, confused. “You didn’t frighten me.”
“And I will never beat you up again.”
“You didn’t beat me up,” I said with a stamp of my foot, but a smile lightened her features. I laughed once. “Melia, this…” And I made a circle with my hand indicating the hidden injuries. “What you did, I had control over. I know how I got every mark and for what reason. And what’s more important, I was able to fight back. This…” I tipped my neck for her to better see the bubbled scar that lined my skin. “This is a reminder. I will never allow anyone to take that right away from me again.”
One side of her mouth tipped up as she considered me. “Someday, I’m going to hurt your uncle.”
“That makes two of us,” Sameen said. Her arms tightened across the large expanse of her chest. Anger burned her cheeks and brightened her eyes. She would be a force all on her own, one Johan had never reckoned with.
A burst of laughter blurted awkwardly past my lips, and then another—a hysterical sound that echoed in my ears.
Melia flinched. A strange expression twisted her beautiful face. And then we were both laughing until tears streamed down our faces. And just like that, I knew we were friends. All of us. It didn’t have to be said, it just was.
Sameen tsked. “Well, don’t you two make a strange pair.”
“Trio,” I said, wiping my face with the hem of my sleeve.
She pushed back a rogue strand of gray-lined hair. “Yes, well, I hardly can be compared to the two of you, but regardless…” She held up a dark blue dress of stunning proportions.
I gaped in surprise, but my fingers automatically reached to touch the soft layers.
I had never worn anything so elegant. My uncle had insisted that as his niece, even the dresses I donned needed to be warrior-like. Strong, tear-resistant material, leather-corseted, with straps for a sword and knives—both seen and not.
This gown was different. The material scooped from the neck and flowed to the waist where a satin belt of a deeper shade slung low before dr
aping to the ground. Bell sleeves elegantly fell past the wrists.
Sameen smiled. “You’re both going to be late if we don’t get you dressed now.”
Less than an hour later, Reese escorted me to dinner. Sameen had done wonders with my hair. It hung in a cascade of curls and braids. I hardly felt like me. As we neared the receiving hall, a woman in a purple gown waited just outside the second set of foreign double doors. Her blonde hair flowed to her waist in a similar fashion as mine. I nearly gasped out loud when she turned.
“Melia? What are you doing?”
“Dining with you.” She smiled at my shock. “You’re not the only one who can turn heads, my lady.”
“I—”
She tucked my arm into hers. Again, I stiffened at the familiarity, but she didn’t seem to notice or care. Reese led the way. With every step, voices grew. I pulled back, but Melia’s step never faltered. I was half-dragged the remaining way.
“You can let go, you know,” I said between clenched teeth.
“If I did, you’d turn tail and run.”
“You’re calling me a coward.”
Melia smiled like a cat. “Prove me wrong.” She released me, and it took all I had not to do exactly as she thought.
Before Reese could reach the large metal rings to pull them wide, the set of double doors groaned open without being touched. Magic swirled in the air, standing the hairs on the back of my neck on end.
The voices within died.
Despite five rows of tables and matching benches that lined the room, only four people sat within. That could have settled my nerves if it weren’t for the magical aquamarine eyes set into a sculpted face. The prince’s hand was extended outward but the moment we entered, he clenched his fist, bringing the doors back to their place. His gaze traveled the length of my body.
Heat ruptured and flowed down the line of my exposed neck to the glimpse of cleavage my new dress afforded.
The king peered at his brother with an inquisitive brow. His expression mirrored my own.
Muscles flexed within Castiel’s strong jawline, beneath a now trimmed beard. He stood, his fingers combing through this dark hair. He bowed.
I dropped into a curtsey but stood with a jolt when my delayed attention caught upon a stranger within the room. Partially blocked by Mikael’s larger form, a fourth man remained seated, unwilling to show his face. Short, sandy blond hair peeked from a high collared tunic. His pale hands clenched a goblet of wine.
The king cleared his throat. His chair scraped against the floor as he stood next to his brother. “Lady Anna, Melia, come. We have much to discuss.”
So his mistress was absent tonight, was she? I almost tripped over my feet when Melia drew me toward the table. A curse bubbled from stiff lips and I pulled away with a sharp tug. I gave her a look, tilting my head toward the half-concealed stranger. “What’s going on?” I asked, my gaze never leaving the stranger’s hands. Despite the ease that radiated from the king’s smile, I was wary of any new additions to my very small group of acquaintances. And for good reason.
“Perhaps some of us have forgotten or haven’t been taught proper manners, Your Highness,” Melia said. Her head tipped high. “When ladies enter the room, the men rise to receive them. Even supposed guests.”
The newcomer’s fingers released his goblet and cleared his throat. “Yes, of course.”
Those three words caused a tremor to jolt through my body.
I knew that voice.
“Forgive me, my lady. I’m out of sorts.” As he moved, my heart rate spiked to a painful cadence. “It’s been a long time since I’ve seen the young lady Ilianna.”
“You.” My breath left me in a whoosh. My fingers dropped to where my knife would have been if I were wearing my normal dresses, but nothing was there. I felt exposed. Foolish. Heat broke out into ugly splotches against my cheeks.
Castiel asked, “Do you know this man?”
I stiffened, my words hollow in my ears. “Captain Weylan Laphel of King Johan’s sixth regiment, second son to the Duke of Vaneira, and third cousin to King Johan Drakara.” I glared at Riaan. “Why is he here?”
“Princess Ilianna—”
“No.” I pointed an accusing finger at the newcomer. “He is one of my uncle’s men. A spy.”
Riaan’s expression was one of disbelief, and I knew why. Weylan was only twenty when he was first promoted to the king’s guard. I was thirteen. He was much younger than most captains my uncle surrounded himself with, and had much to prove within the corps. He eagerly set out to do so. His fighting skills were soon unmatched, his cunning in battle feared.
It didn’t take long for him to rise in popularity, especially with the added bonus of his rugged beauty. His carved jawline and brilliant smile could melt any debutante. The fashionable women of Eira only added to his status. They were always on the watch for a beautiful face to attach their arm to. A new and upcoming star within Eira’s elite, Weylan was eager to prove himself worthy of the king’s notice. He was a shining beacon for those of the younger generation.
And an even deadlier foe.
King Riaan threaded his hands in his lap. “He’s the one who helped us locate and capture Lucan.”
Unwanted Guest
Fear laced my response. I laughed out loud, shocked at the craze in my own voice. “He’s fooled you. He’s probably working with Lucan.”
“Never,” Weylan said, passion infusing his voice. I wanted to retch against the sound of it.
I turned to the king. “Let me interrogate Lucan. I’ll get the truth from him. This man… This—” and I pointed to the newcomer, all words lost to me. Where was my strength when I needed it? And where was the falcry when I needed them? From outside the darkened window, a shadow swooped by in answer, bolstering me.
The king shook his head. “Now, now—”
Weylan held out a hand. “Forgive me, Your Majesty, but she has every right to be upset. I’ve done many things for King Johan in the past, things I wasn’t proud of.”
“Don’t make me sick,” I said in a growl.
“But it’s true, Ilianna.”
The blush on his cheeks powered the look of his innocence, but it only fueled my contempt. I would not be taken in again.
A hiss broke through my teeth. “Don’t you dare be so informal with me.”
“Why? It never bothered you before.”
“That’s enough.” Castiel took a protective stance in front of me.
“Yes,” Riaan agreed. “Let’s move on to more important matters. Why are you here? Why help us?”
Weylan’s green eyes flashed from mine to the king. “To ask the kingdom of Anolyn for help.”
Memories clamored at the back of my mind, fighting to make their appearance. My fists clenched as I slammed shut that mental barrier before it could burst wide.
Trust me, Weylan had once said. Trust me. But then once my uncle called for him to act, he didn’t hesitate to do his bidding against me.
I flinched to the sound of his voice. It grated like sandpaper upon every last nerve. While the traitor spoke, Castiel gently guided me to my seat. The king didn’t look up when he pulled the chair between him and the prince.
“Johan is manic,” Weylan said.
“He is your blood.” Riaan placed his chin on steepled fingers, watching him.
Weylan closed his eyes as if the relation pained him. “He was, but no longer. Johan gets worse every day. I couldn’t follow his orders anymore, so I left. I now fight with a group of resistance warriors against the crown of Eira.”
I laughed. My smile felt stiff upon dry lips. “No one resists my uncle.”
One brow pitched high on Weylan’s forehead. “You did. Do you think you were the only one who suffered? And do you think Eira’s princess is so easily forgotten?”
“If what you say is true, why haven’t we heard of these resistors before?” Castiel asked.
“We are being snuffed out before we can become too large or get t
oo loud. Several of my men escaped across the border to either find the princess—”
“Why would they want me, if not for my uncle?” I asked.
“To rally your followers.”
“I have no followers.”
“That you choose to recognize. The others were sent to seek help, but most have died. I managed to make it as far as Leolina and secure a temporary residence when I heard of Lucan’s plan to extract the princess from Anolyn’s very walls.”
A perplexed frown darkened Castiel’s brow. “And who gave you this information?”
Weylan shrugged. “Thugs for hire. For months Johan has placed watchmen throughout your kingdom. At the coast. The forests. Near the borders. He searches for his niece. Many are searching still.”
I cursed out loud.
Weylan smirked. “You always did have a mouth to you.”
“How many know she’s here?” the king asked.
“I killed the ones who told me. Most understand the animosity the kingdoms hold toward one another. I, for one, didn’t believe she would actually be here. Alive.”
I lifted one brow. “And just where did you think I would be?”
“The coast. I had hoped you were long gone by now. I guess I was wrong.”
Castiel stiffened next to me.
The king leaned back in his seat. “And what else is it you think I can do for your… resistance?”
“Sanctuary. Food. Anything you can give. There are men, woman, and children trying to get free from a tyrannical leader.”
“And that’s all?”
“We can’t be any force to be reckoned with until we are collected. Most die before they can even make it out of the kingdom. Those who have are starving with nowhere to lay their head.” Weylan swallowed. “But beyond those basic needs, we will need help to fight against Johan’s armies.”
The king’s answer was immediate. “We cannot aid a rebellion.”
I inhaled, unaware I had stopped breathing. Was I relieved that the king would not support my kingdom’s outcasts?
Weylan stiffened. “Why?”
Riaan studied him. “Because King Johan has offered us a peace treaty.”
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