CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
Kiva avoided everyone for the rest of the day, sneaking from the stables to her room and burrowing into her bed. She didn’t care that she’d wasted the afternoon, needing to wallow in all that she’d learned, needing to grieve.
She had multiple visitors as the hours passed, their quiet knocks and even quieter voices identifying them as Jaren, Tipp, Caldon, Naari, and even Mirryn, each coming at different times to see if she’d allow them entry. But none invaded her privacy when she failed to answer, giving her the space she so desperately wanted.
Night fell outside her windows, and despite her growling stomach, she didn’t move from her bed to seek out dinner, remaining curled around herself until she finally felt like she could breathe again. It eventually happened, mostly thanks to Zuleeka’s reminder that they couldn’t change the past. For whatever inexcusable reason, her mother had left her in Zalindov. It was done; there was no changing it. Now Kiva needed to let it go and move forward.
It was soon after she came to her decision that another knock rattled on the door, and this time she rose from her bed to answer it. She was surprised to find not one of her friends, but an elderly servant standing on the other side.
“Miss Kiva,” he said, bowing slightly, “Her Majesty the Queen apologizes for missing lunch and invites you to enjoy a nightcap with her before turning in for the evening. She specifically told me to mention that she’s ordered hot cocoa, with extra cocoa.”
Kiva’s stomach rumbled so violently that the servant looked at her in alarm, but he only finished, “She’s awaiting you in her personal sitting room and requested that I escort you at your earliest convenience.”
It would have been easy for Kiva to decline the offer. She’d grown close enough to the queen to know there was no pressure on her to attend. That wasn’t what Ariana would even want — she’d be one of the first to encourage Kiva to take whatever time she needed to get over the pain of her
day.
It was, perhaps, for that very reason that Kiva finger-combed her hair and followed the man from her room. She’d never have admitted it aloud, but while she was hungry and tempted by the hot cocoa, what she wanted more than anything else was a mother’s comfort — even if that mother was Ariana Vallentis.
Not seeing Tipp or anyone else as she left her suite, Kiva walked silently behind her escort, wondering if any of the servants dotting the hallways were rebel spies who would report where she was going and why. But then she decided that she didn’t care. She wouldn’t think about her mission, her family’s cause, anything. Tonight was hers to enjoy, to recover, to heal.
After a quick walk across the golden bridge to the western palace, the queen’s personal chambers came into view, being almost a straight shot over the river from where Kiva had started. Her escort ushered her directly into the room, before backing out and closing the gilded doors behind him.
Kiva paused at the entrance, spinning around to take in the sheer opulence surrounding her.
The queen’s sitting room had high ceilings, lush carpet, and windows that looked out at both the Serin and the gardens, the latter dotted with luminium beacons like fireflies stretching into the distance. An elegant chandelier hung like a collection of teardrops, the walls were mounted with framed artwork, and an assortment of fresh flowers and leafy potted plants brought a dash of color to the otherwise gold-and-white décor. As Kiva continued turning, she saw a crackling fireplace nestled into one wall, the flames warm and inviting, and opposite it was — Kiva gasped and was unable to resist moving toward the grand piano.
She’d never seen anything like it before, the legs, cover, and sides made entirely out of transparent, sparkling crystal.
“’S lovely, isn’t it?”
Kiva was admiring the black and white keys, the only part that was ordinary — and yet still beautiful — when the voice reached her. She whirled around to see the queen reclining on a red velvet chaise, watching her over the rim of a wine goblet.
“Do you play?” Ariana asked, her voice slurring slightly.
“Uh, no,” Kiva answered, looking closely at the queen, and wondering just how much she’d had to drink.
“Jaren used to play all the time,” Ariana said, her gaze turning distant.
“He doesn’t now.”
Kiva walked slowly forward, an inner sense warning that something wasn’t quite right. But her trepidation eased when she saw the tray of hot cocoa and an assortment of mini cakes, her insides warming as she noted the effort the queen had gone to.
“He doesn’t?” Kiva asked. The thought of Jaren playing the piano was too beautiful for her poor brain, so she pushed it away before it could take hold. “Why not?”
Ariana took a large gulp of her wine. “He won’t come here anymore.”
The five slurred words had Kiva freezing to the spot — but it wasn’t only them, it was also that she’d moved close enough to note what she hadn’t seen from further away.
Ariana’s glazed eyes, waxy skin, trembling hands . . . . . . and the golden powder smeared around her mouth, beneath her nose,
inside her nostrils.
Angeldust.
The queen was high.
And when the queen was high — He won’t come here anymore.
Kiva backed away, seeing the glorious room with new eyes.
This was where the queen had hurt Jaren. For years.
This was where she succumbed to her addiction, lost control, inflicted untold amounts of pain.
And Kiva was alone with her, no one but the male servant even knowing she was there.
“Have some cocoa, Kiva,” the queen slurred, elongating Kiva’s name into three syllables. “I had it made ’specially for you.”
Kiva’s heart raced as she considered her options. She could flee, risking an overreaction but ensuring her own safety, or she could sit where Ariana was patting the chaise beside her and have a drink as planned. While her hunger had vanished at the sight of the golden powder, Kiva knew choosing the latter would limit the probability of offending the monarch. But she also knew that angeldust users, especially functioning addicts, were unpredictable, prone to mood swings and violence, often forgetting their actions once the drug passed through their systems. The danger was simply too great for her to chance.
Decision made, Kiva took another step backwards and said, “I’m
suddenly not feeling very well, Your Majesty. Please excuse me — I think it’s best if I retire.”
Kiva dipped into a respectful curtsey. Sober Ariana might not expect her to stand on ceremony, but there was no telling how the drug affected the queen’s memory. Rising swiftly again, Kiva offered a shaky smile and turned
toward the door.
“Not so fast.”
The three words held no trace of Ariana’s usual warmth and kindness.
Instead, they were as cold as ice, imperious and demanding all at once. They stopped Kiva in her tracks — but not because she thought it wise to listen.
She was more desperate than ever to flee the room, consequences be damned.
Only, she couldn’t move.
It wasn’t just the queen’s words that had been filled with ice — water had risen from the floor beneath Kiva’s feet and then frozen, trapping her in place.
Panic overwhelmed her as she tried to break free, her efforts futile as the ice block spun slowly at Ariana’s command, turning Kiva to face her once more.
“Are you trying to leave me?” Ariana slurred. “We haven’t had our cocoa
yet.”
“No, I, um —” Kiva stuttered with fear.
Suddenly, the queen let out an earsplitting shriek. With a quick, overarm throw, she hurled her goblet at the supper tray, wine and cocoa and cake flying everywhere. Rising, she staggered toward Kiva, her hand slicing the air, the gleam of a golden ring catching in the light.
“Look what you did! Look at this mess!” the queen yelled. “I wanted us to have a nice time together, and you ruined it! Why did you have to ruin it?”
At the savage look on her face, Kiva tried harder than ever to dislodge her feet, but the ice remained fixed, its grip unyielding.
“Your Majesty, please,” Kiva begged, knowing she might as well be talking to a wild animal. “I didn’t mean to. I’m sorry. It was an accident.”
The words spilled from her, anything she thought might mollify the queen.
Her relief was nearly crippling when the anger disappeared from Ariana’s features, the ice underfoot cracking before turning back to water and then evaporating entirely.
Despite being free, Kiva didn’t dare move a step.
“Why do you look scared?” Ariana demanded, stumbling through the
spilled food and drink toward Kiva. “We’re friends, aren’t we? Don’t you like me?”
“Of course I do,” Kiva answered quickly.
The queen heard the fear in her voice, and her sapphire eyes narrowed.
“LIAR!” she screamed. “YOU’RE LYING TO ME! EVERYONE ALWAYS LIES TO ME!”
At her enraged look, Kiva scurried backwards, but she barely made it three steps before the queen stabbed her finger in a sharp motion, bringing
Kiva to a halt once more.
Not because her feet were iced.
But because she couldn’t breathe.
Kiva’s hand flew to her throat as she tried to suck in air, but instead, she bent double and coughed out a mouthful of water. And then another.
Coughing and coughing, she tried to clear her lungs of the fluid that was suddenly filling them, flooding them.
Pure terror hit Kiva as more and more water streamed out of her. She searched desperately for something she could use as a weapon, seeing only the upset supper tray. Hacking and spitting, she collapsed to her knees and crawled toward the queen’s shattered wine goblet. She wrapped her fingers around a broken shard of crystal, but a vicious tug on her hair had the makeshift blade slipping from her hand as she was dragged through the spoiled food and away from any chance of defending herself.
“Why did you have to lie to me?” Queen Ariana asked woefully. “I wanted so much for you to like me.”
“Please!” Kiva tried, but all that came out was a watery gurgle.
Burning — her lungs were burning.
Darkness began to press in at the edges of her vision, and she realized this was it. She had no defense against Ariana’s magic. The water was flooding every part of her, drowning her on dry land.
And then, suddenly, it wasn’t.
With a loud BANG! the doors to the queen’s sitting room slammed open as Jaren sprinted through them. A quick, horrified glance had him waving his hand toward Kiva, her lungs clearing in an instant. A second wave sent his furious mother flying through the air across the room.
“Kiva,” he gasped, running to her side. She was still coughing violently, tears spilling from her eyes as she fought the pain and sucked in heaving gulps of oxygen.
“Hold on to me,” Jaren said. Heedless of the sopping, dirty mess covering her, he pulled her up into his arms and strode out of the room, his face like granite.
“Jaren, my love!” Ariana called, stumbling after them. “My sweet baby boy!”
The doors slammed shut on an invisible wind the moment they were through. Around her continued coughing, Kiva could hear the queen banging on them from the inside, but Jaren’s magic kept her sealed away.
“J-J-J —”
“Don’t try to talk,” he said, his voice tight. He looked down at her, his tone softening as he instructed, “Just focus on your breathing, sweetheart.”
Kiva spent the whole trip back to the eastern palace inhaling and exhaling, until finally she was able to breathe somewhat normally again. Still shaking, she was reluctant to loosen her grip on Jaren, so she didn’t resist when he led her not back to her room, but to his.
Kiva had never been inside Jaren’s private rooms before, but after what had just happened, she barely summoned a passing interest. She did note that his sitting room was nowhere near as opulent as the queen’s chambers, closer in style to what Tipp and Kiva shared, but that was all she saw before he strode into his bedroom, sitting down on his bed with her resting in his lap.
The room was dark, moonlight shining in through windows that, like Kiva’s, opened to a balcony over the Serin River. The space was considerably larger than her own guest quarters, with masculine shades of gray and navy intermingling amongst the standard gold and pearl of the palace. Even his bedding was darker, his large four-poster bed nothing short of luxurious.
“Kiva,” he said hoarsely, gently cupping her face. “I am so, so sorry.”
Kiva felt the devastation of his words deep inside her.
“I don’t know how I’ll ever —”
“Shhh,” she interrupted, unclenching his jacket and placing a finger against his lips. “It wasn’t your fault.”
Her voice rasped slightly, but it was a minor inconvenience compared to
the alternative.
Jaren had saved her life.
Again.
Unable to bear up under the weight of that, Kiva leaned forward until her head rested in the crook of his neck, whispering, “Thank you.”
A pained sound left Jaren, and he wrapped his arms around her once again, uncaring about the mess she was transferring onto him. “Please don’t thank me.” In a quiet, agonized voice, he added, “I thought she’d stopped.
She told me she’d stopped.”
Kiva clutched him even tighter, feeling his anguish as if it were her own.
Weak and vulnerable, she couldn’t stop herself from pressing the softest of kisses to the underside of his jaw, offering the only comfort she could.
Jaren froze beneath her, but then he released a long breath and buried his face in her hair, drawing her closer.
“I don’t know what I’d do if anything happened to you,” he whispered.
Kiva’s throat tightened as she whispered back her own horrible truth, something she wished was a lie — but it wasn’t. “Same.”
At her single, tremulous word, Jaren tilted her head back so she was staring straight at him.
The air fled her lungs all over again at the look on his face, at everything he was allowing her to see, everything he wanted her to see.
Her skin began to tingle at the heat in his eyes, warmth flooding her veins and chasing away any lingering cold from the queen’s attack. She was still shivering, but no longer from fear — it was a different kind of shivering now.
Anticipation flooded her, yearning flooded her, and despite her mind screaming that this was a bad idea, that it would only end in heartache, she didn’t stop Jaren as he slowly inched closer.
Kiva sucked in a swift breath — But at the last second, Jaren shifted, his lips coming to press against her forehead, before he whispered against her skin. “Stay with me tonight.”
It wasn’t an order, and despite the heat that had been in his eyes just moments ago, Kiva knew he didn’t intend for anything more intimate to happen between them.
Disappointment filled her, but at the same time, so did an acute sense of relief.
“I’m not sure —” she started, her voice wobbling from the intense
feelings still simmering within her.
“Please,” Jaren begged.
The crown prince. Begging.
“After what just happened, I need to know that you’re safe,” he said, still quietly.
He was still shaken, Kiva realized, perhaps more than she was. Because
of that, she slowly nodded her agreement.
Jaren breathed a grateful sigh and kissed her forehead again, before pulling back. “I’ll get you something to change into.”
And then he was lifting her off him and onto his bed, the back of his hand stroking her cheek before he strode across the dark room to his wardrobe.
Kiva managed to pull herself somewhat together before he returned and handed over one of his clean long-sleeved shirts, after which she quickly ducked into his bathroom to rid herself of her soiled clothing.
When she stepped back into Jaren’s room, he’d changed into a pair of sleep pants — and nothing else.
Kiva’s mouth dried and she forced her eyes away from his bare chest just in time to see him still at the sight of her in his shirt, the hem of which barely skimmed her mid-thigh.
What am I doing? Kiva’s panicked mind screamed. She couldn’t do this.
She definitely shouldn’t do this.
Preparing to offer an excuse to leave — any excuse — Kiva opened her mouth just as Jaren cleared his throat and said, “I want to give you
something.”
Kiva snapped her mouth shut.
Instead of continuing, he angled his head and asked, “Is there a reason you’re not leaving the bathroom doorway?”
A shaky breath left Kiva but she started toward him, determined not to show how nervous she was. When she reached him, he motioned to his bed, and they both shuffled in and reclined against the headboard, side by side.
“I should have given this to you sooner,” Jaren said, turning a small box between his fingers. “I didn’t even think about it. But that was stupid of me — I should have known better.”
Bitterness filled his voice toward the end, enough that Kiva placed her hand over his, stopping his fidgeting.
He blew out a breath and opened the box, revealing a shiny amulet resting on a bed of velvet.
Kiva had seen it before. She’d worn it before. It had saved her life from the Trial by Fire, after which it had ended up in Naari’s hands, and Kiva had forgotten all about it.
At the end of a glittering chain sat the Vallentis crest, the four elemental quadrants — made of ruby, emerald, topaz, and sapphire — divided by a golden sword and an arrow, then topped with a crown.
It was beautiful, Kiva could admit, albeit grudgingly. And that beauty only grew when Jaren pressed a finger to it, his eyes focusing intently, and the gemstones began to glow.
Red, green, white, and blue, the colors grew brighter and brighter until Jaren finally removed his hand and they faded back to normal.
“What just happened?” Kiva asked, squinting at the amulet.
Jaren held it up and said, “May I?”
At the open, patient look on his face, Kiva shrugged and turned her body away from him. A moment later his hands came around her neck, the amulet dropping against her breastbone before he clasped it into place.
“This will protect you from any magical attack,” Jaren said when she was facing him again. “I’ve pushed my power into it — not just fire, like with your Ordeal, but earth, water, and air, too. If anyone tries to use magic to hurt you, it’ll act like a shield, keeping you safe.”
Kiva stared at Jaren.
“You don’t believe me,” he said, misreading her expression. He reached for her hand. “Look.”
Fire burst from his fingertips and Kiva tried to jerk away, but Jaren held firm.
“Look,” he repeated, indicating where the flames shifted from his flesh to hers. She couldn’t feel anything — no pain, no burning — just like when she’d been in the crematorium.
“How long will it last?” Kiva croaked, unable to process the value of his
gift.
And what it meant.
Jaren was protecting her — from his own family.
From himself.
“Long enough for you to get away next time,” he said, clearly still upset.
He then shook it off and added, “You shouldn’t have problems from anyone else here, but there are anomalies out there — people with magic outside of the royal line. This will keep you safe from them, too.”
Kiva looked down at the amulet. “I don’t know what to say.”
“Say you’ll keep it. Say you’ll wear it.”
“I will,” Kiva agreed. “I promise.”
The amulet had saved her life once before. Regardless of whose crest it was, she would be foolish to reject such a powerful gift. Especially given what was coming.
Don’t think about that, Kiva told herself. Not tonight.
“It’s been a long day,” Jaren said, pulling the blankets over them. “We should sleep.”
Kiva nodded, burrowing into his impossibly lush bedding. With both of them on their sides facing each other in the dark, she couldn’t keep from saying, “Your bed is better than mine.”
A startled laugh left Jaren. “I’m glad you think so.”
She burrowed even deeper, marveling at how natural it felt to be lying so close to him without any shred of discomfort.
“How did you know about —” Kiva couldn’t finish her whispered question, but Jaren knew what she was asking.
He tucked a tendril of hair behind her ear, the action raising goose bumps on her skin. “I went to your room to check in on you, but Tipp said you’d left. He’d overheard Oswald delivering Mother’s invitation, and the moment he told me, I just — I knew something was wrong.” In a quiet voice, he finished, “I’m sorry I didn’t get there sooner.”
“I’m just grateful you came at all,” Kiva said. She then repeated her earlier words. “Thank you, Jaren. You always seem to be saving me.”
“And I always will,” he returned. The depth of emotion in his response would have shaken Kiva, if he hadn’t quickly — and awkwardly — added, “You know, if I have to. Which hopefully I won’t. Ever again. But if I do, then I will. Of course. Obviously.”
Laughing at how flustered he was, Kiva placed her finger over his lips for
the second time that night.
“Good night, Jaren.”
He sighed against her finger. “Good night, Kiva.”
She snuggled deeper and was just beginning to drift off when Jaren’s voice came to her again, whisper soft. “Kiva?”
“Mmm?” she murmured.
“I’m sorry about today. With your family.”
Even if she’d decided to move past it, Kiva still felt the ache of betrayal all over again.
“And I’m sorry I was so angry,” Jaren continued. “I just —”
“I know,” she interrupted in her own whisper.
Half asleep and entirely unable to keep her guard up, Kiva shifted forward until she was pressed against him. He automatically rolled onto his back and pulled her closer, her head coming to rest on his bare chest. Without
thinking, she laid her hand over his heart and curled her leg around his knee, the two of them perfectly entwined.
He didn’t say anything else, but just as Kiva succumbed to sleep, she whispered one last time, “I know.”
