18. Jess

Chapter 18

Jess

I t took a minute to realize Keelan had just walked away from me.

He was mad at me ?

How dare he.

I’d been kidnapped, drugged, and nearly killed. My father and brother, the two people I loved more than anyone, had been slaughtered.

And Danym . . .

“Your Majesty looks a little flushed. Is there anything you would care to discuss?” Atikus asked from across the fire.

The old Mage had been staring.

“No. And stop staring.” I practically spat the last word.

Atikus smiled. He actually smiled at me.

That made my blood boil hotter.

Atikus lowered his voice, calm and steady. “Jess, there are three of us out here. Only three. There are probably thousands, tens of thousands, with orders to bring us back. Be angry. Hate anyone and everyone. Given what you have just been through, I would be shocked otherwise; but you cannot be angry with us . If we are going to survive all of this, we need each other.”

“I do not need your—”

“Young lady, you most certainly do.” His brows raised almost to his hairline, and his voice firmed. “Someone put a royal ring on your finger a few days ago and you already think you can do it all on your own? How ridiculous. I have seen many rulers lose their heads for that kind of arrogance. And stupidity.”

I fought to make my mouth move. No one spoke to me that way. Ever.

Except my mother, and I would die before accepting her loving embrace again.

I shot to my feet.

“You will never speak to me in that tone again, Mage. I am your Sovereign. You will pay me respect.”

Atikus actually chuckled. “Actually, Jess , you are not my Sovereign, nor are you Keelan’s. Might I remind Her Majesty, two Melucians are currently saving her royal ass?”

I glared, desperate for a sharp retort, but none came.

Atikus gestured, palms outward in the universal sign of surrender. “Please, come sit with me.”

“I am fine where I am.” I crossed my arms and flopped back onto my pallet, keeping my eyes trained on Atikus.

The Mage ran a hand aimlessly along his beard.

“I have lived longer than you might imagine, and I knew your father. He was a good man.” I felt the sadness in Atikus’s words.

“You did? How?”

“This is not the first time we have met.” His eyes flittered with memories. “I traveled to Fontaine on a diplomatic mission for the guild many years ago, early in your father’s reign. He was a proud man, back straight, eyes alight with life and laughter. He was especially proud in that moment because his first child had just been born.”

I sat up, crossed my legs, and leaned forward. “You were there when I was born?”

“Spirits, no, not for your actual birthing.” He chuckled. “I arrived in the capital a few days after your birth. The King met with our delegation several times over the following week. You were present each time. Your father declared our meetings to be the beginning of your monarchical training.”

A wry grin tugged at my lips. “He would.”

“Your mother paraded you about. You were swaddled in a light-blue silk blanket, clutched so tightly I thought she might smother you. She was terrified you might fall . . . or choke . . . or fall asleep and not wake . . . or die in many other terrible ways. I do not think I have ever seen a new mother fret so much.”

“I never want to talk about her again,” I snapped, a war between curiosity, anger, and pain raging in my chest.

Atikus continued as though he hadn’t heard me. “Then there was your father, every bit a King in his prime.”

The cooling embers popped, and I jumped.

When Atikus remained quiet, I looked up. “You were talking about my father.”

“Ah, yes, right. I lost myself in my own thoughts. Your father . . . He had only been King a few years, three, maybe four. Everything was new and exciting. You could see the passion in his eyes and how he carried himself. He had yet to feel the true weight of the Crown on his brow. There was an energy at court I had not felt in many years—a sense of hope, if you will.”

“What do you mean?”

“Your grandfather was not . . . how can I say this?”

“Everybody hated him. He was a royal ass,” I blurted.

“Ha! He was not well liked.” Atikus’s eyebrows jiggled as deep laughter rumbled out of his mouth. I didn’t feel like smiling, but the sound banished my anger. “The Kingdom did fine under his rule, but it was not a particularly joyous or prosperous time. Corruption ran freely. Common folk never stood a chance. Even traveling the King’s Road became dangerous. Melucia was experiencing an explosion of industry and commerce. Your grandfather resented our success and often blamed the ills he created on us.

“Then your father took the throne. He was handsome, young and strong, with a quick wit and ready smile. He spoke of aiding the farmer and farrier alike, proclaiming all citizens of the realm to be royal in their own ways. That bit rankled the nobles, but the people fell in love with him. When he attacked your grandfather’s corruption, the nation rallied to his banner.”

Atikus took a long drink from his waterskin.

“Then you were born, and a burgeoning renaissance turned into a revolution.”

I tilted my head to the side. “What do you mean? What did I have to do with anything at the time? I was just a baby.”

“No, Jess, you have never been ‘just’ anything. You would become the first Queen in a thousand years. That idea captured the minds of little girls—and some old women, I might add—all over the world. Imagine that, a woman on the throne of Spires. Your birth was the bellows to Alfred’s hope, driving a blaze across the Kingdom.” Atikus reached forward and prodded the fire with a stick, disturbing the dying embers. “It was remarkable to see.”

“The people thought of me . . . with hope ?”

He smiled broadly. “Jess, Alfred insisted you be seated in every meeting. Mind, you were only days old. You slept through most of my visit. Well . . . you also made the room so noxious that the King had to move our meeting.”

He rumbled again.

“You became his world. His hope. His dream for the future of his Kingdom. I watched a proud, fearless man transform into a hopeful, lovesick boy every time you were carted into a room.”

I sat back and drew my knees to my chest. When I spoke, I had to strain to hear my own voice. “I miss him so much.”

Atikus watched in silence.

“It should have been me,” she whispered.

“What should have been you?”

“I should have let her kill me. My father and brother would be alive if it were not for me. I should have died.” I swatted a tear that trickled down my cheek.

“Child, Spirits know we cannot control life. Who knows if killing you would have satisfied her ritual? Then your mother might have turned her eyes toward your brother and father in any event. You would all be dead, and there would be no one to oppose her.”

“I know. I know,” I muttered. “It still should have been me.”

At the sound of Keelan’s heavy footfalls, I quickly wiped my face with the back of my sleeve and looked away.