Chapter 49

Chapter 49

T he soft rap of a knuckle on glass pulled Mariah’s attention away from the Attlehon Mountains. She twisted in her chair, grinning.

Quentin and Matheo waltzed through her balcony doors carrying two bottles of wine each, shit-eating grins spread across their faces. Mariah lifted her glass of crisp white wine, nodding for them to join her. She turned back to the long stone table where she sat, the one piece of furniture on her balcony that she’d hardly ever used. She’d chosen a seat directly in the center—not at the head—and smiled into her glass as she took another sip.

“Mariah, you’ll never believe it; Matheo and I found the good wine down in the storerooms. The kind they only bring out for the balls and parties.” Quentin rushed to her side, settling into the chair on her right, Matheo sitting beside him. Behind them, more figures moved through her living room, their voices drifting outside.

She eyed the bottles. “Found it, or stole it?”

“Psh.” Quentin waved a hand. “Semantics. As if anyone is going to miss them.”

“You would be surprised by how much the kitchen staff notices, Quentin.” Delaynie sat down across the table, lovely as ever in a flowing lilac gown. “I am sure they will send you a bill for those bottles shortly.”

Ciana, laden beneath an overloaded platter of fruit and cheese, snorted as she set her offerings on the table, seating herself beside Delaynie. Behind her came Sebastian, carrying a similar tray, and he placed it next to the first before sitting on Ciana’s other side, just across from Mariah.

Mariah took another sip from her wine as Quentin leaned forward in his seat, a wicked grin on his face, something sparking in his bottle green eyes. “Is that so, little wolf? And are you going to help me pay for them?”

“Absolutely not.” Delaynie sniffed. “I won’t be drinking them.”

“Not even if your queen asks you to?”

Delaynie faltered slightly and quickly darted her gaze to Mariah before returning it to Quentin, a scowl twisting her sharp face.

“ My queen can drink as much of the palace wine as she wants. You, however, are not her.”

Quentin chuckled. “Oh, you’ve got me there. And thank the gods for that. No offense of course, M.” He rolled his head to the side, tossing Mariah a wink before returning his grin to Delaynie. “But could you imagine the uproar in this city if I were a woman? What would all the ladies do without my magic coc?—”

“That’s enough.” Mariah laughed into her wine.

It had been two days since the goddesses’ visit. The first, she’d spent in a panic, fear for her family and confusion over her next task crushing her chest with every breath. The second, she’d finally been able to return to her routine—training with Trefor in the game park before seeing what she could glean from the library.

Which was, of course, nothing.

Today, she’d decided to do something.

Delaynie flushed a bright pink, her back rigid and hands twisting in her lap. Ciana snickered as she bit into a piece of cheese, and the remainder of Mariah’s court who had settled around the table—Feran, Trefor, Kiira, Drystan, and Rylla—all tried desperately to fight back raucous laughter.

“As much as you love to talk about it, no one wants to hear about your magic cock right now, Quentin,” Mariah said.

Someone—probably Trefor—gasped a laugh as Mariah set her now-empty glass on the table in front of Quentin. “And thank you for defending the staff, Delaynie. But you can tell them the wine is on my tab.” She shot a glance at Quentin, pointing at her glass. “Now, be a good boy and pour your queen some of this good wine.”

The group snapped. Quentin released a roaring laugh, Matheo doubling over with him. The entire table erupted into hysterics, Ciana nearly spitting out her bite of cheese and crackers. Trefor almost slipped out of his chair to the floor as Rylla let loose great howls of laughter. Even Sebastian chuckled, rubbing his eyes, and Delaynie shot Mariah a grateful glance as she giggled.

“Don’t tell me; Quentin made a joke about his dick.” A deep voice echoed across the balcony, a brush of shadow against Mariah’s skin, and the laughter dropped away.

Well … almost. Ciana still sniffed, wiping tears from her eyes, and Quentin, Trefor, and Matheo still chuckled involuntarily as Andrian stepped through the balcony doors and onto the patio.

They knew he’d be coming; she’d informed everyone as much earlier that day, just as she’d asked Drystan to invite him. He’d moved back into his room across the hall, as she’d asked, but still kept his distance.

Andrian’s eyes found Mariah’s, darting behind her once before resting on her with a question in his expression.

Realization struck Mariah like a lead hammer.

All the seats opposite her at the table were filled. Drystan and Kiira sat at the two heads, and Quentin had taken the chair on her right. She’d chosen this table because it had exactly twelve seats, one for each member of her court.

With Andrian being the last to arrive … That meant the only chair left available was the one on her left. Beside her.

What would it convey if she asked Sebastian or Feran to move and sit beside her, allowing her some distance from Andrian?

She almost scoffed. Her fear was speaking to her, whispering darkness in her ear. Trying to decide her life and her future.

She refused to spend any more time bowing to her fear.

The smile that spread across her lips was mostly genuine. “Thank you for joining us, Andrian. Please, sit.” She did her best to ignore the way their bond thrummed when she said his name as he dipped his head in answer and moved toward the table.

She raised an eyebrow expectantly at Quentin. “I wasn’t kidding about the wine, you know.”

Quentin chuckled, Matheo still grinning beside him. “As you wish, My Queen.”

Mariah’s smile relaxed into a grin as Quentin uncorked the bottle, pouring Mariah a glass before filling his own and passing the bottle down the table for everyone who wanted it. She focused on their small talk, taking a sip of the delicious white, even as she felt Andrian brush behind her. Her hair shifted against her neck, and she gripped her glass just a little tighter as he slid into the chair beside her. Several inches separated them, but heat still radiated from him.

For someone who acted so cold, he was always so hot .

Sipping her wine, she snuck a glance at him.

He was watching her, of course, leaning back in his chair, fingers drumming lightly on the table. Setting down her glass, she turned to face him more fully. She briefly hesitated before leaning across his space, reaching for the plates of cheese and meats and fruits Ciana and Sebastian had brought.

When she did, her leg brushed his, and it took every ounce of self-control she possessed to keep from gasping. Sparks danced across her skin, igniting the magic in her blood. She hurriedly gathered up a few grapes and slices of cheese before settling back, shrinking just slightly into herself.

It was wishful thinking that the other night would dull their bond. The sharp edge was relieved, but it was a momentary reprieve. The thrumming, magnetic energy was back now, stronger than ever, set alight by the graze of her skin against his.

Mariah popped a few grapes into her mouth, sweetness bursting across her tongue. Taking a swig of wine, she cleared her throat. The chatter around the table fell away, eyes turning to her expectantly.

“Thank you for coming?—”

Sebastian chuckled. “You do that every time. Thank us.” His face turned serious. “You need to stop. I don’t think any of us would rather be anywhere else.” Murmurs of agreement swept across the group, nods and smirks and giggles with them. Even Andrian’s mouth twitched, his eyes shining with something too bright, too real.

She looked away quickly.

“I know I don’t have to, but I want to,” Mariah muttered and took a bite of cheese. It was creamy and delicate, almost like butter.

“Anyways,” she said after swallowing, “as I’m sure you all remember, I went into the city a few days ago to inspect the location that received a strange call on the night of the Solstice. And we … found something. Something I only wanted to share with my court, and not the rest of the captains and commanders currently in service of the crown. At least, not yet.”

Mariah glanced around the table, being sure to hold every set of eyes that met hers.

“The building was an abandoned apartment, long since put out of use. It looked innocuous enough from the street, but inside …” Mariah drew a deep breath, flexing her fingers beneath the table.

Andrian shifted beside her, surely feeling the rage and fear thrumming through her at the thought of what she’d seen, what she’d felt. What the goddesses had said to her after.

“Inside, something truly terrible happened. Violence. Trauma. Pain. So much pain.” Mariah shuddered. “There was blood everywhere. In pools on the floor, splattered on the walls. And at the front of the room, on a pedestal, was a piece of stone.”

She cut a quick glance to Andrian, meeting his stare, and he nodded. Reassurance. Her anger was justified, and so was her fear. She could—needed to—share this with the rest of this table.

“It was aberrant. I’m told it’s used as a conduit to Enfara. And it, too, was drenched in blood, so thick I could hardly see the substance beneath. And when I touched it … I collapsed.”

“Wait, wait.” Drystan leaned forward, holding a hand in the air. “What do you mean, you touched it?”

“Just that. I put my hand on it. And then I passed out.”

Drystan’s bright gold gaze bore into Mariah for several seconds before darting between Andrian and Sebastian. “And you two just let her?”

“I honestly didn’t even realize what it was?—”

“I tried to stop her, but that never works well?—”

“ Excuse me? No one lets me do anything?—”

Sebastian, Andrian, and Mariah all spoke, their voices running together before all halting.

They shot glances at each other, Mariah glaring at everyone. Andrian cut the tension with a chuckle and leaned forward, resting his forearms on the table. His leg again brushed against Mariah’s, and her sharp inhale earned her another quick glance and grin.

“I think we all agree that she shouldn’t have touched it.” Andrian’s voice was soft, yet commanding. Mariah suppressed an urge to roll her eyes. “However, she did, and she’s fine.” He turned to her, black hair falling messily across his forehead. “Isn’t that right, princess?”

“Yes,” she grumbled, crossing her arms. “I’m perfectly fine. Can I get back to what I need to tell you all now?”

“Wait, there’s more?” Feran leaned forward in his seat. “You have more to tell us than finding a crime scene and aberrant in the city?”

“How did everyone know what that shit was but me?” Mariah rubbed her eyes. “Yes, there’s more.”

Silence fell around the table again, eyes once more turned expectantly her way.

Mariah twirled the stem of her wineglass between her fingers. She felt the weight of her court’s gazes, but Andrian’s scorched her the most. His brow was twisted slightly as if unsure about what she was about to say next.

About how much she might be about to share.

“Early the next morning, I received a visit. From … the goddesses.” She held Andrian’s stare as she said it, watched first his confusion, then his realization, and then … more puzzlement.

A glance around the table, at the rest of the confused glances she found, told her he was not alone.

“Mariah,” Delaynie spoke slowly, icy blue eyes sharp and calculating. “What do you mean, you received a visit from the goddesses?”

“I mean,” Mariah said, her tone even, “that Qhohena and Zadione appeared in my bedroom. Both of them. And they spoke to me.”

More silence. So silent that Mariah swore she could hear wingbeats in the air around her. She whipped her head up, scouring the skies.

Nothing.

“But that is …” Delaynie pulled Mariah’s attention back to the table. Her friend’s face was still contorted, watching Mariah too closely. “That’s impossible. The goddesses … they don’t have a physical form. They exist on a different plane, and no queen has ever recorded a time when they appeared to her. In this world.”

“There have been over five thousand years of queens, Delaynie,” Mariah said softly. “Who’s to know what didn’t get written down in Xara’s day or in the centuries after? Who knows what knowledge has been lost to time?”

The group settled back into silence. Mariah could almost feel them thinking, the churning of thoughts, the unsettled feelings filtering to her from the six bonds she normally kept closed.

From the seventh bond, though, she felt something different.

Instead, it was something like … awe ? She locked her stare on Andrian, and while his features were carefully schooled, that usual icy mask in place, she could see it.

He believed her, and he wasn’t scared or bothered or worried.

He was awestruck.

“Mariah.” Drystan’s soft voice pulled her attention away from Andrian. “What did the goddesses say?”

Mariah inhaled a steadying breath. “They told me that whatever I’d found … whatever had happened … I needed to find out what. Someone did something on the night of the Solstice. Something so terrible it could be felt in the realm of the gods, something that shook the foundation of the world. Something that poisoned our allume so thoroughly it caused our lights to flicker and go out.”

Silence met her words. She took a sip of her wine and sat back in her chair.

The group was quiet for several heartbeats. Quentin fidgeted with his daggers, and Kiira cocked her head like a cat, the gold jewelry in her hair tinkling. Drystan rubbed his chin, and Ciana took a deep sip from her wine.

A breeze picked up and lifted the strands of Mariah’s hair, brushing it across her collarbones. It had grown, just a bit, aided by a healthy diet and sleep. It was also shining again, catching her subtle golden highlights in the setting sunlight.

She was feeling more like herself for the first time in months. Herself, but … harder. Tempered, like steel.

“Mariah,” a soft voice said beside her. Calloused fingers gently brushed her forearm, heat blazing across her skin. She jerked her head to Andrian, meeting his brilliant blue gaze.

“What do you propose?”

“For what?” Her mind was blank. The feeling of his fingers on her skin … Everything had emptied.

Two nights ago, she’d told him she wasn’t ready for him to touch her.

But now, she didn’t feel even the slightest hint of fear at his caress.

Could things truly change so quickly?

His answering grin was too wicked and carried too many knowing promises. “A solution, princess. How do you propose we deal with all this?”

“Oh.” She pulled her arm back, setting her wine glass on the table. “Well,” she started, fidgeting with the stem. “That’s why I brought you all here. For ideas. Because while I know I must do something, I don’t exactly know what.”

“I might have an idea.”

Mariah turned to Matheo. He was leaned back in his seat, half-empty bottle of wine in front of him, a contemplative expression on his face. He scratched his chin. “What about that priestess? The one who told us where you were being kept? She spent so much time with Ksee and the others; perhaps she might’ve heard something.”

Mariah sighed. “I’ve already spoken to her. She wasn’t privy to the conversations about the Solstice.”

“And you trust her?” Andrian’s voice was quiet. “You believe she was telling you the truth?”

“I do,” Mariah answered unwaveringly. “She doesn’t know anything.”

More silence followed. The group settled into their thoughts, the only sounds the occasional sip of wine, bite of cheese or crackers, and the wingbeats of those damn invisible eagles.

“There was one more thing,” Mariah spoke again, more slowly. Attentions turned to her. She swallowed down the rush of her fear, the thick sludge that raced over her skin.

“Zadione mentioned one other thing. Something that’s been bothering me for weeks—months, even—but that I’ve been too afraid to confront.”

Sebastian leaned forward. “Mariah? Is everything okay?”

“I … don’t know.” Her voice wavered, and she swallowed again. “When I was in Khento, Lord Donnet was there. Of Andburgh. My family’s home. And since then, I just …” She shook her head. “I worry about my family.”

“But with Donnet in Khento, wouldn’t that make Andburgh safer?” Trefor sat forward in his seat.

“That’s what I thought, too,” Mariah said. “But Zadione … she said that my blood is more valuable than I realize, and I need to protect it.”

“If you want us to go to Andburgh and bring them here, all you need to do is ask.” Nods echoed Sebastian’s words, but Mariah shook her head.

“No. We’re not to that yet. And besides, my father will probably send you away. It would need to be his idea—or my mother’s—to leave Andburgh and join us here.”

“Sounds like we now know where you get your stubbornness from, princess.”

Mariah scowled at Andrian, but it didn’t meet her eyes. Not with the way humor danced in his expression.

“Perhaps a letter, then,” Sebastian said. “You write to them, invite them here. We’ll make sure it’s sent.”

Mariah nodded, relaxed. She liked having a plan. The weight of her fear lifted from her chest, just enough for her to take a full breath.

“If we may, My Queen, my sister and I will look further into the report from that apartment on the night of the Solstice.” Kiira straightened in her seat, tapping the table with a painted nail. Beside her, Rylla nodded. “Surely, someone must have seen or heard something. We’ll see what we can find.”

“Don’t terrify the poor city-folk. There are good people down in the market district,” Feran said with a laugh, a smile spreading across his warm face.

Rylla grinned, her canines elongating, her nails lengthening into short claws. “I have no idea what you are talking about.”

That drew chuckles and laughs from around the table, and Mariah smiled into her wine.

“That sounds good to me. I’ll write the letter to my family tomorrow. The rest of you, help me research. Do what you can. Any information, no matter how trivial, could be important.”

Nods answered her.

“Well …” She set down her glass. “I suppose that’s everything.”

Quentin shot up, slamming his hands on the table. “I think it’s time for a game.”

Delaynie groaned. “A game? Seriously?”

“Oh, come on, little wolf.” Quentin leaned across the table, grinning wickedly. “Two truths and a lie? Of course, you’ve lived such a sheltered little life up here in this big old palace; maybe you don’t want to play because you know you’d lose?—”

Delaynie pushed to her feet. “Fine. But only one round, and only if Ciana goes first.”

“Ya—wait, what?” Ciana tossed the rest of her wine into her mouth before standing. “Why me?”

“Because,” Delaynie said, already moving across the balcony and toward the doors leading to Mariah’s living room. “You always give the most outrageous lie, and it’s so easy to guess. If I’m going to lose, I’d rather not lose first.”

Mariah smiled as her court rose from the table, filtering back inside and settling themselves on the couches, their friendly banter drifting to her on the early evening breeze. The sun had slowly set during their meeting, and Mikael was now there, busying himself in the kitchen, frantic at the number of people who’d joined her but still wearing his usual cheerful grin.

A shadow lingered by her side, even as the others moved inside. Sebastian also still stood at the table, eyes darting between Mariah, Andrian, and the rest of the group. A muscle in Mariah’s jaw twitched as she leaned back and met Andrian’s gaze.

“Go inside,” she said, her voice soft. “I need to talk to Seb.”

Surprise lit Andrian’s expression, and a glance at Sebastian revealed the same. Andrian hesitated, before he flexed his jaw and nodded. He brushed behind her again as he left, walking too close, and the feel of his arm whispering across the back of her neck sent a shiver down her spine.

Another sip of wine promptly chased that chill away.

“You want to talk … to me?” The hesitation in Sebastian’s voice stung. She knew she’d been withdrawn, pulled away from him for quite some time. Certainly since she’d returned from Khento, and perhaps even a bit before that.

But then again, he was not entirely blameless for that. His anger, the aggression he’d wielded against Andrian … She’d let it happen because she was too numb and too cold to do much beyond holding herself together. But it wasn’t like him, wasn’t like her Sebastian, and in all truth, she’d waited far too long to have this conversation.

She set her glass of wine down on the table and met his hazel stare. “When was the last time we just talked? Like we used to? Has it really been since before the Solstice?”

“When you asked me to stand in as your consort?” He slid back into his seat, leaning heavily onto his forearms, and peered up at her through thick lashes. “When I asked you if that was what you truly wanted, and you lied to me and said yes?”

“I don’t think I actually said anything.”

“And I think you’re avoiding my point.”

She smiled and sat forward, mimicking his pose. She extended a hand across the table, and he reached his to greet hers. His fingers were warm when they brushed, comforting and familiar and steady.

Her rock. Her foundation. Her friend.

“I miss you, Seb.” She drew in a deep breath. “I miss you so gods-damned much. And these past few weeks, since I got home, I feel like neither of us has really been here. Not the way we used to.”

He was silent for a moment, and he twisted his hand and grasped her fingers in his. There was nothing romantic about the way he touched her, the way he held her hand. Perhaps they’d been together in that way once, when wild magic had rocked her sideways, but that part of their relationship was long since put to rest. Now, he was just … Sebastian.

“I’ve missed you too, Mariah.” His words were shuddering. She tried to catch his gaze, but he hid it from her. “And, gods, I am so, so sorry.” Another deep inhale, and she knew.

Knew he was crying. That he was hiding his tears from her.

“I’m sorry I wasn’t there. That I couldn’t protect you. I’m sorry that they touched you, that they got to you. I’m sorry that I failed .”

“Sebastian.” She tightened her grip on his fingers, pulling his arm toward her. It yanked up his attention, forcing him to meet her gaze. His eyes were rimmed in tears, his handsome face wrought with devastation and rage and terror and failure.

Everything he’d felt since that night in the courtyard. It was all laid out, so plain for her to see.

This was why he’d reacted the way he had. Sebastian had always demanded perfection of himself, and nearly always succeeded.

But this time, with his most important job, he thought he’d failed.

“You didn’t fail. Do you hear me?” She dug her fingers into his palms, opening the bond between them just enough to feel the twinge of pain with him. “There was nothing you could have done to stop them from getting to me that night. I am the one who pushed them too far. I’m not saying I’m at fault for my capture—that was always the Royals—but the decisions that led to it were my own. I know you strive for perfection. That you are afraid of failing me. And I’m here to tell you, as your queen, that you have done anything but.”

She was crying now too, thick tears running hot and heavy down her cheeks. “Sebastian, you are the one who saved me. Without you and our friends, I would still be trapped in that fucking pit. So do not for a second think that anything was your fault.”

Mariah dropped the wall between their bond fully. Waves of emotion pushed and pulled across that bridge between their minds—anger and pain and regret and grief and sorrow and love. So much shared and traded, passed between two souls as if they were one.

Mariah had always thought the Armature would offer her nothing more than physical protection, a means of deterrence from those who might wish her harm.

But in that moment, it was so much more. It had always been so much more.

A gentle, steady smile pulled across Sebastian’s lips.

“I’m so glad you’re home.”

“I am, too.” She squeezed his hand once more before dropping it. She slowly closed the bond between them, the tide of their emotions withdrawing back into themselves.

“There’s one other thing.”

Sebastian pulled his own hand back, gaze inquisitive. “Oh?”

Mariah smiled, taking a final sip of her wine. “Can you leave Andrian alone? Please? I know he’s an ass, and I know his … involvement. But I need to work through that with him on my own. And I need you to trust me that I can make the right decision for myself.”

Sebastian stiffened for a moment before relaxing, slightly deflating as if weights lifted from his shoulders. He dropped his gaze into his lap, staring at his hands.

“I never meant to isolate him. I’m sorry if that was the wrong decision.”

“You know how you told me to stop saying ‘thank you?’” She leaned forward again, catching his gaze. “Well. I’m now telling you to stop apologizing. We’re past that. Just trust me. Please.”

Sebastian drew in a deep, shaky inhale. “I’ll always trust you, Mariah.”

“I know. It’s just nice to hear you say it.”

His lips quirked at the sides. “So. Nothing that happened is my fault. I need to back off and forgive Andrian. Anything else?”

Mariah smiled—a genuine smile—and stood from the table, the chair scraping across the floor. “You can get another glass of wine with me, and you can have some fun with everyone. And tomorrow, we’ll get to work on figuring out how to save this kingdom.”

She snatched her glass and walked toward the sliding balcony doors, Sebastian meeting her at the end of the table.

Inside, teams were being formed, more wine was being poured, and Mikael was depositing platters loaded with steaming food on the tables. Andrian leaned against a pillar near the doors, and her gaze found his. Something flickered in his eyes, something that spoke of more than they could discuss tonight.

More than she was ready to discuss that night. One emotional conversation per evening was enough for her.

The sound of voices greeted her when she pushed inside. Ciana’s tinkling laugh rang out, a chime amongst the clamor.

“Seb!” Ciana called, her hand waving in the air. “Get over here. You’re on my team.”

With a last glance at Mariah, Sebastian joined the group.

Leaving Mariah beside Andrian. He stepped closer to her, warm against her shoulder. She turned, tilting her head up to meet his gaze.

She opened her mouth to speak, not sure what would come out, but he beat her to it.

“Join them,” he murmured, voice low and quiet. It warmed her belly, made heat flush to her cheeks.

He smiled and leaned closer. Just a touch.

“You know how much I love that blush, princess,” he said, words just for her, “but you deserve this night. We’ll talk later. I’m not going anywhere.”

He pulled back, and she swallowed. The wild blue of his eyes was so warm, almost on fire, and familiar shadows danced in their depths.

With a final nod and a smile, she joined her court—her friends, the first she’d ever had—as laughter echoed off the mountains.

Outside on the balcony railing, a golden eagle watched on. A black butterfly floated past the eagle on its perch before soaring up on the night winds and joining the stars above.