Burn of the Everflame — Chapter 47

47

LUTHER

stared at the paper clutched in my hand, my mind as ever on my Queen.I I’d deluded myself into believing that once she stopped pushing me away, things between us would be as perfect as they’d been in Sophos. Though Diem had let me back in, I felt no closer to her than when she’d first returned.

My mind agonized over what I’d denied her last night. If all she’d wanted was rough, I would have been eager to comply. My tastes had always tended toward the dark, and so did Diem’s. But the thought of harming her—inflicting pain not to arouse but to truly make her suffer— repulsed me to my core.

I’d sworn I would do anything to help Diem if she asked, but last night left me wondering if there were some lines I wouldn’t cross, not even for her.

If I had, perhaps she wouldn’t be hiding from me today. When I left this morning for an errand in Mortal City, she still hadn’t returned to camp, and the message she’d sent by stealing the compass was clear: she wanted to be alone.

That, at least, I could give her. And if she wanted me to spend more time pursuing my own goals, as she’d admitted in Fortos, I could give her that, too.

“Is it ready?” Auralie asked, eyeing the paper I held as I approached the healers’ center.

“Not yet. Preparations for the battle yesterday slowed things down.” I took another look at the paper, then folded it up. Besides the men I’d hired, Auralie was the only person I’d told about this secret. “They said they need

another month. I offered to pay them double to finish it tomorrow.” I glowered. “They just laughed.”

Auralie covered her mouth to hide her smile. “Money can’t solve every problem, Prince. Some things simply take time.”

I tucked the paper into my pocket. “How is your plan coming along?”

Her smile faded. “The situation is worse than I thought. I went to speak with the other mortals on the governing council about replacing Brant since he left to join Vance. Apparently, they wish to resign, as well.”

I frowned. “All three?”

“I suspect the other two feel guilty for the bribes they took, but Bruno Albanon . . . I can’t tell if he’s resigning out of shame for what Henri did or anger with Diem for how she responded. Henri left Lumnos without telling anyone where he was going, not even Lana. Bruno’s not sure he’ll ever see his son again.”

I glared. “Bruno’s lucky he still has a son at all. Diem could have killed Henri for what he did. She should have.”

Auralie winced. We fell in step beside each other as we walked back to the palace, and I forced my temper to cool.

“I’m sorry,” I said. “Diem told me Henri was close to you, as well. I can only imagine the betrayal you must feel.”

A troubled look passed over her face. “Henri once asked me how I could be married to a man whose values were so different from mine. I told him I couldn’t—I never would have married Andrei if he was the Descended disciple people believed him to be. Andrei cared deeply about protecting the mortals.”

“Did he know you were a Guardian?” I asked.

“We never discussed it. But sometimes . . .” She looked off into the distance. “Andrei occasionally received letters from Fortos asking for advice on coming attacks. He would spread them out on our kitchen table, along with a map of the continent, and draft his response. Then he would yawn and go to bed early, claiming he needed to sleep on the matter before

sending his letter back.”

“You think he wanted you to see it?”

Her solemn gaze returned to me. “My Andrei was a disciplined man. He didn’t leave a mess untidied, not even for a night.”

I stopped short of asking whether she ever read them. Auralie Bellator was a woman of immensely strong values, but they did not include

respecting anyone’s privacy, including her family’s.

“Did you tell this to Henri?” I asked instead.

“No. Perhaps I should have.” Her expression turned pained. “Perhaps, if I had . . .”

“Don’t,” I interrupted. “It’s bad enough that Diem and Teller blame themselves. You Bellators are too quick to carry the weight of others’ evils on your hearts.”

She threw me a wistful smile. “Well, at least you’ll fit right in.”

My chest clenched. My eyes rose to the distant palace, and I said a silent prayer to the Blessed Mother that my heart would be waiting there when I returned.

“So what are we to do about the council?” I asked.

“I told the others to reconsider their resignations. If they don’t, we’re going to need more votes.”

“The mortals have my vote. Zalaric’s, too. Nidara is less certain. I suspect she would vote how Diem commands, but Diem won’t want to pressure her unless she has no choice.”

I thought for a moment. At the first meeting, the Unhoused Descended had voted with the Twenty Houses, but now that Marthe and Garath had been ousted from the council, there might be a chance to win them back.

I stopped. “Go back to Mortal City. Find every vendor you know who sells their goods to the palace, and tell them the Crown will no longer purchase from anyone who refuses to trade with the Unhoused Descended.”

Her eyes lit up as she worked out my plan. “I’ll send hawks to the mortal farmers near the outer coast, as well. You’ll have Eleanor tell the same to the Descended vendors in Lumnos City?”

“I’ll do it myself, first thing tomorrow. As for today . . .” My gaze turned west. “I think it’s time to take a trip.”

“FASTER,” I hissed.

Sorae’s head swung back to me, her eyes narrowing to irritated slits. I’d given the same command twice, despite the short flight home lasting less than an hour.

At the moment, an hour felt like a lifetime. When I’d returned from Mortal City this morning and Diem still had not come back, I nearly canceled everything to go find her. It wasn’t unusual for her to disappear for a while when she felt overwhelmed, but rarely without a gryvern—and never without her magic.

Sorae knew even less about Diem’s absence than I did. With their bond severed, she could no longer sense Diem’s emotions or location. If Sorae wanted to find her, she’d have to look for her like everyone else. That’s precisely how I’d convinced her to fly me to the western coast to meet with the Unhoused Descended. A compromise: she could search the forests by air, and I could be home by nightfall.

But as the sunset-streaked skyline of Lumnos City came into view, I couldn’t shake the feeling that my Queen wouldn’t be waiting at the palace for my return.

“There were so many more than I expected,” Zalaric called out over the wind from behind me. When he heard I was planning to meet with the Unhoused Descended, he’d asked to come. “I counted at least sixty half- mortals among them.”

“And those were just the ones brave enough to come forward,” I agreed.

“There were surely more in hiding.”

“They’ll see they can trust us,” Zalaric said firmly. “Especially once you take over as Chief of Council.”

I glanced back. “I suppose I should have asked for your vote before bringing you along to ask for someone else’s.”

“As long as you don’t ask me to be your second, you have my vote. I’m serving on the council as a favor to Diem. I have no desire for a life in politics.” He smoothed a hand along the brocade trim of his silken robes.

“I’m far too pretty for that.”

I studied him for a moment. “What kind of life do you desire? If you wish to open an inn like you had in Umbros, Diem would make it happen.

Nothing would make her happier than emptying more of the royal vaults.”

“Please, Luther. I’m too pretty for that, as well. The inn was never about the inn. It was a place for the half-mortals to be safe until they were ready to make a life of their own.” His features gave way to something a little softer, a little more pensive. “It was Margie’s idea, that inn, but she was never able to save enough gold.”

I held out a palm and let an orb of light glow for a moment, then rise up and disappear. “May the Old Gods watch over her spirit.”

Zalaric’s eyebrows shot up. An offering of magic to the mortal gods was heresy, punishable by death. But my Diem would never enforce it, and if any mortal deserved to spend their afterlife in the gods’ favor, it was Miss Margie, the woman who had taken in the half-mortal orphans and found them new families to call home.

All except for Zalaric—the little boy she’d kept and cherished as her own.

He held out his hand and matched my offering, then watched the rising wisp of shadow melt into the clouds. “There are going to be a lot of orphans when this war is over. They’ll need a home. Schooling. Training in their

magic.”

“You want to open an orphanage?”

“I want to make sure no child ever finds themselves walking the streets alone with nowhere safe to go.” He smiled tightly. “Not again.”

The memory of the day we first met resonated in the silence between us.

How far we’d come, thanks to the two women in our lives who had been bold enough, and selfless enough, to fight for half-mortals like us.

“I did not think I would ever meet a person worthy of Taran’s love,” I said. “You, Zalaric Hanoverre, have proven me wrong.”

Muscles flexed on his throat beneath the scar from the botched execution that had nearly taken his life as a child. He sometimes hid it beneath jewelry and silks—particularly around the Hanoverres, I’d noticed, perhaps to deprive them of the satisfaction of seeing his pain. Today, he’d left it bare, paired with a low-cut robe that made the rippled line stand out against his oiled, dark umber skin.

One of the Unhoused Descended had remarked on our scars, giving us the chance to tell our stories. Once they saw how we, like them, had suffered from not fitting the Twenty Houses’ mold, it led to discussions of what could be done to make old wrongs right. I’d left the coast not only with their vote to lead the council, but with a growing optimism for what Emarion could be and the role that I could play within it.

“You think the mating bond with Taran will be successful, then?”

Zalaric asked, his nonchalance a little too forced.

“I do.” My brows rose. “What is it that concerns you, Taran’s part . . . or yours?”

His lips pursed. “I know there was someone before. Taran won’t speak of it much. The most he’ll say is that his brother ran them off.”

I chose my words with care. It was not my place to share what Taran didn’t want him to know, but I could understand Zalaric’s fear. If Taran was still pining for a long-lost love, his attempt to seal the mating bond would

fail, leaving Zalaric a stranded mate.

No fate could be worse than that.

“What Aemonn did was cruel, but it turned out to be a blessing. It kept Taran’s heart open to finding you.” I gave him a reassuring smile. “He loves you, Zalaric. When he sheds his blood at the ceremony next week, I have no doubt the mating magic will confirm it.”

I waited for the haughty quips and arrogant armor Zalaric was so quick to hide his heart behind. Instead, his chest rose with a deep inhale, followed by a nod and a quiet “thank you.” We continued the rest of the flight in brooding silence, though I was fairly certain both our minds churned with thoughts of the Bellators we loved.

When Sorae landed on the palace lawn, Taran was waiting, along with Alixe, Eleanor, and Auralie—but no Diem.

“Is she back?” I called out as we dismounted.

“Not yet,” Taran said. “You must have really pissed her off this time.”

He smirked, but there was a shadow of worry in it.

I reached to my hip for the golden compass that was no longer there.

My gaze turned north, then east. “We should speak with the guards at the borders and the port. Perhaps they’ve seen her.”

Auralie crossed her arms. “I said the same, but your High General refused.”

Alixe bristled. “Right now, we’re the only people who know she’s gone.

Considering we’re in the middle of a war, I think it’s best we keep it that way.”

“Something is wrong,” Auralie said sharply. “We need to find her.”

“I’m sure she’s fine,” Taran said. “Remember Ignios, when she ran off all by herself? She’s probably on some insane mission somewhere super dangerous without anyone else that she didn’t tell us about because it will almost definitely get her killed.” He snorted. “Classic Queenie.”

He flung an arm around his mate-to-be, but Zalaric’s gaze had shifted higher—to a palace window, where Aemonn Corbois was peeking through the curtains and watching through narrowed eyes.

“I agree with Alixe,” Eleanor said. “We should keep it to ourselves. The Twenty Houses won’t be happy if they hear that she left. They’re already angry with her for freeing the gryverns.”

“They’re not the only ones,” Alixe murmured, casting a nervous eye toward the camps.

Sorae let out a sudden snarl. She stamped her talon as she surveyed our group with an indignant glare. Her eyes shifted to me, and her wings snapped open, quivering in wait. I tipped my head toward the sea, and she launched into the sky and soared east.

“Can you feel Diem’s aura?” Alixe asked me.

“She drained herself at the battle yesterday,” I said. “Her magic is too weak to sense.”

Zalaric shot me a tight-lipped look. As the only two Descended in this group strong enough to feel other powerful godhoods, he alone knew my answer wasn’t entirely true. Normally, Diem’s aura could be felt for miles.

After a full day, enough of her magic should have returned for us to sense her. Either she’d drained herself again, or she was very, very far away.

“Yesterday was a terrible day,” Eleanor said. “If Diem needs time to herself, we should let her have it.”

“Queenie never lets us down,” Taran chimed in. “Whatever she’s doing, I trust her.”

“It’s not her I distrust,” Auralie muttered.

Alixe studied me carefully. “What do you think?”

Unleash the entire Royal Guard in search. Drag the gryverns back and find a way to reinstate the bonds so they can find her. Demand that every person and creature in Emarion scour the realms until I know she’s safe.

“We wait,” I said, fists curling at my sides, “and we tell no one she’s gone.”

The others nodded—except for Auralie, whose disappointed stare made me feel as tall as a mouse. I turned for camp, and she stormed along beside me.

“We should not be waiting,” she insisted. “If something happened to Diem, time could be critical.”

“There’s nothing that could happen that Diem could not handle on her

own.”

“You said her magic is drained—”

“Even without her magic, she is the most formidable woman I’ve ever known,” I snapped. “And sometimes, formidable women disappear without telling the people who love them. You should know that most of all.”

Her glare sizzled. “I know my daughter. She will run from herself, but never from her obligations. She would not abandon her people when things are this dire.”

I couldn’t bring myself to argue when I knew every word she spoke was true.

“Did something happen last night?” she asked. “Something more than the gryverns?” Her head tilted at my silence. “Something between the two of you?”

I looked away—to the east, where Sorae was flying back to the palace at breakneck speed. The last rays of the setting sun glinted off something dangling from her jaws.

“Luther, if you and Diem are—wait, where are you going?”

Her cries were lost to the breeze as I broke into a sprint. Sorae landed in a gallop on the edge of camp and didn’t stop until she reached me.

Something tumbled out of her mouth to the grass, then her head arched back with an anguished howl.

I sank to my knees. My heart thundered in my ears as my hands closed around a long, metallic object and the severed leather belt it hung from.

The empty scabbard for Diem’s sword.

And it was covered in blood.

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