Chapter 10

Icouldn’t help letting a groan out as I lay back on the shaded grass, hiding away in a secluded area of the palace gardens that no one, other than myself, visited. Goddess, I was tired.

The last ten days have been a blur, filled with Forum preparations, working with Mer to finalise the Royal Quarters, taste testing and approving menus. Meanwhile my nights were spent placating Eliasson, who’d become increasingly demanding of my time and affection, before rushing to Varqel’s until the early hours of the morning.

My time there was insightful as I worked my way through the book. The visions had shown me the lives of a young couple who wed and, soon after, became the leaders of Fyriane. I had learned that, apparently once upon a time our continent was united, the individual Doms seemingly non-existent. From what I had gathered, the King and the Queen were beloved by their people, almost as if they were a salvation their people were looking for. But, what did they need saving from?

The couple went on to have four children, two boys, Arlom and Marlyst, and, two girls, Nyarelle and Salistya – and I didn’t think it was a coincidence they were the four names of the Doms today. No, I was beginning to think that the royals today were their descendants, ruling over the respective lands of their ancestors.

As the children grew older, it was clear they’d inherited the magic of their parents, who I’d figured out were the Goddess Wystia and the God Merlot. Merlot was the God revered in Marlyst and Nyarelle. I had never learnt why they had a different God, having merely been taught – or more to the point ordered – from a young age to never acknowledge this faux God. But I knew that just as Salistya and Arlom don’t recognise Merlot, they don’t recognise our Goddess Wystia.

It was evident Wystia’s magic was physical in nature, much like my own, and the eldest child, Salistya, and the youngest, Arlom, exhibited these gifts as well. However, Merlot’s magic wasn’t obvious in either him, or the remaining two children. Maybe he didn’t have any? Or it hadn’t been passed on? But even as I considered this, I knew in my bones that Merlot was a mage and Marlyst and Nyarelle had inherited it. I just didn’t know what his affinities were or whether they appeared today like Wystia’s did. I had never heard of any magic outside of the magic gifted on the Solista Isles. But could whatever this magic is still be alive in their Doms today? What would it look like?

Knowledge finds those who are meant to see. The Nyarellean woman certainly hinted at knowing more. How else did she know Eliasson was around the corner that day in the markets? I wonder what the Nyarelle Queendom is hiding, and what is it I am meant to see?

For the millionth time, I cursed Salistya’s lack of teaching of our continent’s history. The Queendom simply doesn’t place value on education that falls outside what is needed to sculpt us into weapons to be utilised as the leaders saw fit. Such a damn waste.

I rubbed my eyes, my frustration continuing to grow as I wondered whether there was any point trying to understand what this all meant, or if it even was anything more than a potentially fabricated story and a market woman playing games.

But there was no doubt there was deep magic embedded in the book itself for it to provide those visions. My magic felt it. After all, like called to like. The question was, how was the magic stored in the book?

Having control over all four elements plus some additional magic, I was the strongest mage known on this continent, and even I didn’t know how to store magic in objects. Maybe I needed to keep a close eye on the Nyarellean Queen as well, not just the Marlyst King at the Royal Forum, to see if I can find out what their beliefs are about Fyriane’s history. Thank the Goddess for my ability to teleport frequently without needing to regenerate my power often – I don’t know how anyone can successfully spy without it. There’s too many places to be, and not enough time.

On top of this, there were now the matters of my love life. Eliasson would be dealt with soon, so that was one down, but Sir? I had no clue what to do. Understandably, my marriage had changed everything. Our love story could be likened to the books Mer and I read. He’d chased me, and originally I was, quite frankly, not interested. Back then I was too busy enjoying my newfound freedom, and, having only been exposed to controlling and barbaric Salistyan men, my opinion of men in general was extremely low. Why would I tie myself to a relationship only to be treated as an object? A toy to be played with and controlled, never to be seen as an equal partner? No, thanks.

But he turned out to be different. His values and beliefs were in line with the liberal Solistans. He didn’t show any Salistyan tendencies. Soon my walls had started dropping, and our love grew into one of adoration, respect, and, above all, equality. His touches were doting, his bedroom caresses sensual, always giving as much as he got.

Now our relationship had turned into something else. Something dark, accusatory, and resentful. It was a far cry from what it had been. Although I loved the rough, physical aspect to our relationship, I equally craved the soft touches we once shared, and the feeling of warmth, like being in perpetual sunshine, I would get when we made love. He was the only man I enjoyed making love to, the only one with whom it felt like it meant something. But we hadn’t shared moments like those since my marriage.

That night on the Isles had left a bad taste in my mouth I hadn’t been able to get rid of. The more I thought on his short rebuffs, his dismissal of my feelings, the increasing blame placed on me for anything and everything, the more I realised that in the last year he had never taken accountability for any of his less than desirable actions. And there were plenty of those to go around. Up until now, I had dismissed them, excusing his actions as being hurt, for losing me in a sense. For my unwillingness to run away with him, to live a life in exile.

But that night? It awakened something. Forced me to look at things in a different light, like how instead of providing an excuse or an apology, he would place the onus of his behaviour on me and my actions. Whether I was not doing enough to earn his love, rubbing my relationship with Eliasson in his face, being too emotional to think logically, there was always something. And it would always result in a punishment.

The lines had become blurry. Sure, in the moment it was fun. But on reflection, the punishment didn’t feel like a fun, sexual act fulfilling both our desires anymore. It didn’t feel healthy between us now. He hadn’t stayed. There was no after care, no talking it through, no checking on me. Nothing. And that was a problem. I was discarded how I always imagined the Salistyan women in the breeding villages were once the men have their way with them. It was awful, not something I ever wanted to experience again.

I needed to see him, though, to test the waters to see whether my realisations were correct. And if they were, well, I would need to have a serious think about how I would navigate us moving forward.

I clicked my fingers, summoning a piece of paper and pen before I could back away from the realisation that we needed to have a conversation. I wrote a note, scrunched it up, and felt it leave my hand, making its way to him. I couldn’t let this linger anymore, not with the rulers of the other Doms days away from arriving. I needed all my focus there.

Sighing, I cast my magic wide, sifting through the nearby presences. Satisfied that the closest presence was far away enough to not see anything, I flicked my wrist around my head once in a circular motion, willing the branches of the willow tree I was sitting under to grow long towards the ground. I’d need to undo it later or risk too many questions I didn’t want to answer, but it effectively created a circular boundary around me, the branch walls unable to be penetrated from the outside. It also meant it was annoyingly dark. Maybe I did too good of a job calling on the branches.

I sat there for quite some time, waiting for him to appear. By the time he teleported, I was on edge, and had gotten up to pace back and forth.

‘You called?’

I could feel his hot breath on my neck and forced myself to physically hold in a shiver. I cleared my throat, taking a step away before turning around to face him. ‘We need to talk.’

‘About?’

‘Us,’ I exhaled, closing my eyes, running my hands down my face. Despite my hands covering my eyes, light began to infiltrate the cracks. Dropping my hands, I saw his two extended ones. A ball of fire in one was lighting up the space; the other held a bouquet of yellow roses.

‘You forgot a light in your makeshift cave,’ he smiled ruefully. It was a smile I hadn’t seen on his face in such a long time that it made me melt into the sixteen-year-old girl who fell in love with him. Have I been overreacting about the other night?

‘Show off.’ I rolled my eyes, trying my best to not give him anything. Not until he apologised.

‘And these are for you.’ He stepped forward, forcing the yellow roses into my hand and not letting go.

I allowed the touch for a second before taking a smooth step away. ‘Thank you. What drove you to buy me some flowers?’ I asked cautiously, hoping it was his version of apologising.

‘Well, I was hoping we would see each other today. I know you’re going through a lot and roses are your favourite.’

The warmth I had felt curdled. Yes, roses were my favourite but not yellow roses. Red ones were, the roses of love. Yellow roses are the kind of flowers you give to someone as a condolence for their grandma’s death. Last I checked, my grandmother didn’t die yesterday. She was long gone.

I took a good, hard look at the roses and noticed that out of the twelve, seven of them were already starting to wilt. I called my magic to the surface. Nostrils flaring, I zoned in on the wilted flowers. They lacked the sweet and spicy notes usually present in fresh flowers, so I knew they must have been cut around a week ago. Which meant they would have been on sale in the markets, about to be thrown out. Considering the time it took for him to receive my note and get here, I would put gold on him teleporting to some markets before coming, realising something was amiss. But he would have been disgusted at the steep price of red roses and settled for these dying yellow ones instead.

So in translation, it said, I had no idea you would want to see me today. I know our relationship isn’t great right now, so I rushed around to grab you something. I didn’t want to pay the full price for red roses though, despite having plenty of gold, but these yellow ones were on sale.

The idiot shouldn’t have bothered.

‘Thanks.’ That was the politest response I could give. And I must admit, I’m proud of myself for not snapping.

‘Honestly, Valare? I don’t know why I bother,’ he snapped, his emotions turning on a dime like they always do when I don’t react how he wants me to.

Here we go. Well, at least he got one diplomatic response out of me before my temper snapped to the surface. ‘You don’t know why you bother? Are you hearing yourself right now?’

‘I come as soon as I can, I give you flowers trying to be thoughtful, and the only response you have is thanks.’

‘Well, you do come as soon as you can. Can’t fucking argue with that part,’ I muttered.

‘Excuse me?’

‘You heard me. You treated me like absolute shit the other night. Yes, I understand this has been hard for us both and we’re limited in when we can see each other. But when we do? You call me a whore, deny me any real pleasure, and leave me high and dry without even talking. Not fucking cool, pal.’

His jaw clenched at my use of the word pal. It was a cheap shot, as I knew how much he hated it, but I didn’t care. ‘It was roleplay, Valare, and you loved it. You like being treated like a good little whore.’

‘Yes, I used to. But now – ‘

‘But now what?’ he demanded. ‘Your interests have changed now that you’re with him?’

‘No, not because I’m with him. This has got nothing to do with him. I don’t like being called a whore or treated like one when it doesn’t feel like roleplay. You left that night without discussing things. I know things haven’t been the same over the last year. But not once have you ever walked away from me like that before.’ I wrapped my arms around myself.

‘And whose fault is it that we haven’t been the same for the last year?’ he accused, latching onto that part and dismissing the rest.

‘It’s neither of ours! This was out of both of our control and you know it! Why do you keep saying that this is my fault?’ I cried, lips trembling.

Anger filled his eyes, his tone dropping. ‘I’m not the royal here, Valare. Nor am I the one who decided to give us a shot. You could have refused me those years ago. You knew of the potential for your royal duties to separate us. Then you could have said no to your sister, provided another option. You could have ended us once the marriage was going ahead and saved us from all of this. But no. You’re still so choked up on my dick that you couldn’t do it, any of it. And I’m the idiot in love with you so I go along with it because I’d rather have something of you than nothing, regardless of everything else.’

True, he’s not the royal. False, I did refuse his advances and he had continued to pursue me until I gave in. True, I could’ve said no to my sister, but the result would be living a life in exile, away from my Sol, V, Lyz, and Dwyla. False, I tried to end our relationship and he kept pulling me back in for more, holding our sexual attraction over me time and time again. True, he’s in love with me. And knowing that part alone made my resolve waver. Every. Single. Time.

Fuck, I could feel the tears coming.

‘Why are we putting ourselves through this then? There’s no way out of this situation I’m in. When I’m not obligated to fulfil this mission, I’ll be handling the fallout, figuring out what comes next. I don’t know when we could properly be together. You and I both deserve more than this. We both deserve a chance to have a healthy relationship that isn’t hidden in the shadows,’ I whispered, wiping away a rogue tear.

He nudged my chin up with his fingers, forcing eye contact, his face softening in a way that didn’t seem possible with his anger moments ago. ‘When I ask myself why we bother, I remember how we created our own little tree house on the Training Island. The late nights lazing under the stars, wrapped around each other. I remember you handing me cards under the table, making sure I beat Mazyr and Meredith because you know I can’t stand losing. I remember our first kiss. We were both excited and nervous, stumbling our way through it. Both pretending that it wasn’t our first kiss, trying to impress the other,’ he recalled.

I gave him a soft smile, my resolve wavering. ‘That kiss was awful.’

‘It was,’ he laughed. ‘But you know what?’

‘What?’

‘It was real. Our good times far outweigh the bad. Sometimes love isn’t rainbows and butterflies. That is why I won’t give up on us. I love you, Valare. I want us, no matter how long it takes. No matter how much I have to help you through your doubt.’

Memories of the good times rushed through my mind. We had grown up together, experienced so much over the years. I have missed it lately. Maybe once everything is over we can go back to that.

‘I love you, too. I’m sorry. I’m trying to be good to you. I’m trying to make things better. I just don’t know how.’ I broke, tears running down my face. This was the best, most productive conversation we had had in a long time.

‘Hey, hey, come here,’ he hushed, pulling me into his arms and bringing us down onto the grass. ‘It’s okay, baby, I know you’re trying. You’re just dealing with a lot and it clouds your perception of things sometimes. But that’s why I’m here, to balance you out. I wouldn’t be good for you if I didn’t call things out for what they are, would I, my sweet?’

‘You’re right. You do help balance things out. There’s just so much and I don’t know how to get out of it,’ I whispered sadly, snuggling my face further into his chest, finding comfort in the man who’s always been honest with me, always my equal.

He kissed my forehead as his hand brushed away loose strands of hair on my face. He pulled my face to his. Our lips came together in a sweet, patient kiss.

I knew it was risky to do this here, but I couldn’t help myself, caught up in memories of our times together. It felt like old times as he laid me back on the blanket, hovering over me. Slowly, gently, he removed my clothes. We made love like it was our first time. Curious hands wandering over one another, quiet giggles and gentle caresses everywhere as we immersed ourselves in one another, the world around us forgotten. It was just him and me.

‘I loved everything about that, but is it possible if you could, maybe, focus on my pleasure a little bit more?’ I shyly asked afterwards, tracing my fingers over his stomach, enjoying the aftermath of our coupling and not wanting to ruin it, but needing to say it.

‘I would if I could, Valare. We’ve discussed this though, you’re so picky and hard to get off. I try. But how long do you honestly expect me to hold out for? It’s pretty unfair of you to ask me this.’

Funny, Eliasson has no problem with it. I swallowed the lump in my throat, ignoring the unbidden thought, realising the confrontation it would bring would never change anything. Instead, I whispered a meek ‘okay’ in an attempt to keep the peace. It worked, but the moment was broken for me.

Eventually we separated. I remained on the blanket, a mixture of my emotions swirling within. I watched as he quickly dressed, leaning down for a peck.

‘I love you,’ he said, running a firm hand through my hair. I didn’t return the sentiment, nor did he wait for it. Instead, he straightened and teleported away.

I chose to stay amongst the branches, thoughts of our conversation playing on a continuous loop, the softness of our love rapidly leaving me. I was beyond frustrated that the conversation had gone exactly the way it always did. I go in knowing I have valid points, only to question myself and be roped back in with his memories of the good times we had shared. Like always, he leaves the conversation without apologising and I am left feeling like the worst person ever because I asked for what I wanted. Why can’t I learn?

My head dropped between my knees, tears streaming down my face.

The verdict is in. The biggest loser award goes to yours truly.