Chapter 27

UNA

"Is my father well, Athelyn?" I asked upon entering the windowless parlor where the Issosian ambassador was being kept under guard.

Goll and I had returned shortly before dawn. I'd taken a bath and assured Hava, who wouldn't stop fussing over me, that I was perfectly fine. Hava had thought Goll had taken me away to beat me. But when she saw the bite mark when I undressed for my bath, she only smiled, glad he wasn't too rough in his punishment .

He hadn't been too rough. Quite the opposite. He had handled me in the most wonderful way.

Hava had spread a soothing, minty oil on the bite wound, promising it would heal but leave a scar as the king undoubtedly wanted. I should've been appalled, but the thought only made me smile as well. She helped me get cleaned and presentable for the ambassador.

But Athelyn wasn't an ambassador. He had been the leader of the Issosian Guard. He bore the looks of an Issosian-born, the long white hair and violet eyes. His wings were pale blue, tall and strong at his back.

"Your father is much the same," he said with sympathy. "Perhaps a little weaker than when you left."

I swallowed hard at that. What he wasn't saying was that my father would die soon. There was no doubt of it.

"Why have you come? What is wrong? You're not one of my brother's ambassadors."

His expression tightened with even more sympathy as he took a step toward me then glanced at the door. Though we'd been left alone, he knew that Goll and Keffa were standing on the other side. Goll agreed to give us privacy, but he'd said he'd be waiting for me while giving a death-glare to Athelyn.

"I am now his second," Athelyn said. "And he trusted this errand with no one else."

"What errand?"

He glanced at the door again before he stepped closer and whispered, "Are you truly well? Are they—is he—treating you as an Issosian princess should be?"

I nearly laughed. I knew definitively that no Issosian princess had ever been stolen away on dragon back, dragged into a cave, and been pounded into pleasure by a wraith king. By her wraith king.

"Yes," I answered honestly with a sincere smile. "I am very well."

Athelyn frowned. "Are you sure?"

I did laugh then. "Yes." Then something occurred to me. "If you're Baelynn's second, what happened to Gael?"

Gael had been my brother's second since the moment we became co-stewards of the kingdom, since Baelynn had been forced to take over the army when our father became too ill to manage it himself.

Athelyn clenched his jaw, his mouth a grim line. "Gael has resigned his station at Issos. He has returned to his home estate in Mevia to lead the House of Ryleen."

Stunned, I stated, "You mean he has abandoned my brother when he needs him most. Because of me."

Athelyn, ever the proper diplomatic Issosian, did not reply. He didn't need to.

"Were his injuries…?" I asked, unsure what to say of them.

"He recovered. The palace healer managed to stop the bleeding and mend the wounds." He flinched, likely when he saw my face go pale at the memory of that day. "I apologize, Princess."

"No need."

Gael may not have deserved the injuries for the reasons Goll chopped off his fingers, but his abandonment of my brother burned a new bitterness in me for the man who might have once been my husband. I couldn't imagine it now. I couldn't imagine giving myself to any other but Goll.

"It is no longer princess, Athelyn. My title is mizrah now."

He blinked, surprise widening his gaze. "You are their queen?" he asked in a hushed whisper.

I smiled, a little sadness welling in my heart. Like so many Issosians, he thought a wraith king's first concubine was a queen. But that was not her role. Still, I cherished what I'd become to Goll and what he'd become to me.

What happened in that cave had changed us both. We weren't merely creatures of flesh. I wasn't simply a brood mare, and he wasn't only a tyrannical ruler driven to sire an heir. We were bound now beyond words and titles. The cool sting of the bite at my shoulder reminded me of who I truly was, making me more certain of my place in Goll's world.

"How is Baelynn?" I asked softly.

Remorse swept through me, thinking of my brother's stricken face as I was taken from the Moon Temple. That look of horror and regret and shame while he watched me being dragged away had burned itself in my mind. I'd avoided thinking of Baelynn as much as I could since I was so absorbed in adapting to my new reality, navigating my new life.

"He is well," Athelyn answered, but there was a grim set to his mouth. "He worries about you daily."

I pressed a palm to my heart. For so long, Baelynn and I had depended on each other. Our mother had died when I was very young. When Papa fell ill, we'd relied heavily on one another for guidance and comfort and solace.

I noticed Athelyn had averted his gaze to the floor. Something was wrong.

"What aren't you telling me?"

His eyes widened. "Pardon me?"

"There's something you aren't telling me, Athelyn. I demand to know."

His training as a servant to the royal family seemed to click into place as he heaved out a sigh. "Your brother is showing the first signs of Parviana."

My stomach fell like a heavy stone as I sucked in a breath. "No." I shook my head. "Please tell me no."

He clenched his jaw then added, "He is still able to do all the things he could before. It's very early yet."

In my father's early stage of the disease, he would simply freeze in the middle of doing something and forget why he was even in the room. For Baelynn, ever the in-control master of himself, that alone would be a nightmare.

I had to find the god-touched texts. And fast. I couldn't allow my brother to succumb to this awful plague like my father. For even though Athelyn didn't say it, I knew my father was not long for this world.

Clearing my throat, I straightened and said, "Please assure Baelynn that all is truly well. Tell him that I am sure my path is guided by the gods here." Though I wasn't sure it was our Goddess Lumera anymore.

Athelyn breathed out a genuine sigh of relief. "I will gladly bring him such news. It will make him very happy to hear this."

At least I could put his mind at ease while I searched for a cure to save him, and hopefully Father and all the afflicted.

"And how is the rebuilding going?" I asked, knowing that would be a monumental task.

"Better than we could've imagined. Of course"—he chuckled—"the wraith fae are brawnier than our lot, and that actually makes them much better builders."

Pursing my brow in confusion, I asked, "What do you mean the wraith fae are better builders?"

"The conscripts King Gollaya sent us."

I stood there, dumbly staring at him. Athelyn's expression shifted to amused. "You did not know that King Goll had sent us conscripts to help rebuild the burned and ravaged villages?"

King Xakiel had razed many towns and villages nearly to the ground, leaving our people destitute and barely able to survive. While Goll had come in and finished the war with his final battle on Issos, it never occurred to me that he might concern himself with the Lumerians his father had harmed in the years of war before his reign.

"No," I answered, dumbstruck. "I did not."

Athelyn donned a more serious expression, speaking as if he were giving a report at the palace.

"While King Gollaya left his garrisons at Valla Lokkyr, he left more soldiers behind for Baelynn to send across Lumeria where they were needed. He didn't just send warriors but also craftsmen to assist with the rebuilding. King Goll's ambassadors have expressed his intention that helping rebuild might mend some of the hatred between Lumeria and Northgall."

My throat was thick with emotion and hoarse when I asked, "Did King Goll say why he was giving Lumeria this boon? He'd already won the war. We'd surrendered." And he'd taken me as his prize. "He did not need to offer this assistance at all."

Athelyn clasped his hands behind him and tilted his gaze to the floor. "The ambassador from Northgall told Baelynn the king wanted a true alliance between the dark and the light fae. This could not happen by sheer force of a king's will, even if he did win the war and occupy the land. King Gollaya understood there may yet be hostility after you were taken from Issos, but his intentions were for peace between our people once and for all. The exact words conveyed to Baelynn were, ‘King Gollaya does not intend to remain a tyrant like his father. He wants only to be the King of Northgall and Lumeria, and for his new, wider kingdom to thrive."

After a moment of absorbing his words, I cleared my throat, only able to say, "I see."

"It's a slow process, but we are making headway in the rebuilding."

"That is good to hear." I wondered at the fae I'd tied myself to, knowing there was much more to him than I'd first thought. "Come, Athelyn. Goll has planned a feast for this evening, and as our guest, you are invited."

His brow shot up curiously. "Now I am a guest? I was sure that I was a prisoner."

"In Silvantis, those can mean the same thing. But I promise you will be able to leave tomorrow after you've seen all is well for me here, and you can report back to my brother." And hopefully ease his mind.

My gut soured again at the thought of my brother becoming ill. A new sense of urgency pushed me to go to Dragul Falls. I must speak with Goll.

Athelyn nodded and followed. Though my life in Silvantis had not been easy so far, I was making my own path now with confidence. And I wanted my brother to feel safe in the fact that I'd made the right decision. That even though Lumeria had a new king—shrewd, cunning, and domineering—he was now an ally. Not an enemy.

The gods often played tricks on us mere fae but I was still sure I was walking the right path. If I could cure this plague, I would know for certain that the gods hadn't made a mistake and that my painful tragedy here at N?kt Mir hadn't been for nothing.