Page 112 of The Stolen Throne
It’s time to stop making this worse for him—to make it easier, even. Like he said about me…he’s worth it.
“I said go, Meren,” he snaps. His eyes flash open, but behind the walls he’s trying to brick back up and underneath the anger, I see the desperation and the fear. It’s almost frantic.
“Please.” His voice breaks.
Without another word, I turn and climb out of the pit. Every step feels like another piece of my cracked heart crumbles to dust inside me, and I’m trying my damnedest to not let him see the way my shoulders shake or how I have to keep dashing away my tears.
Part 4
Sham Sacrifice
47
Remirel
I walk through the portal in the Queen’s Tower, through a sister portal, and into a room in the temple in the capitol city of Remirel. It’s only been a few days, but it’s felt like eons.
I’m the last of us to come through, with Reven at my side.
At my side physically but not in any other way. I’m trying to make myself believe that’s okay. I’ve been trying to make myself believe that—stick to the decision I made not to be the source of his pain and problems—for days. It blows. But this is what you do when you care about someone. He taught me that.
I pull my shoulders back, assuming a regal posture, channeling Omma and Grandmother and every other princess and queen of Aryd who’s had to put aside her own wants.
Besides…I’m supposed to be queen now anyway.
The others—Vos, Horus, Hakan, and Pella—came through earlier so as to not look like they’re with us. Bene, too, with Horus this time. He won’t come into the castle, but he’ll stay outside, just in case we need his help. Cain’s too weak, so Tziah stayed behind with him. I’m honestly not sure Vos should’ve come, either. The pallor to his skin reminds me of when we first met, and he’s coughing more. He has been ever since we went to the Shadowood.
But the others didn’t say anything, so neither did I.
The Wildernyss portal, like all the ones from other dominions I’ve seen, is unique to this place. The portal glass here is blue like the sky at twilight or Tziah’s skin. The room where it’s housed is simple, but the frame holding the glass is quite ornate, edged in a carved wooden frieze depicting vines of flowers.
In a magical illusion created by a wood Hylorae ages ago, the carving winds around the glass, as though the vines are growing and blooming as we watch. At the top, a dragon perches, its long tail wrapping around to form the base on which the glass sits, its maw open to guard the precious enchanted glass. I’ve heard that on certain Wildernyssian holidays, it even blows fire.
I wish I could stay longer, take my time to look more closely. Not only here but throughout the city, which Omma so diligently taught me about. I’ve always wanted to see the jugglers and acrobats in the squares, the markets where farmers, woodsmen, and hunters bring their goods, and the puppet shows, or even go to a simple tavern.
But there’s no time for that.
We arrived in the earliest light of morning in order to avoid the priestesses in the temple and the crowds in the streets. Also because I insisted sooner was better. After what happened with Reven, if I have to sit around the Queen’s Tower with nothing to do but wait and think, I’m going to lose it.
After I left him in the water garden, I went back to my room and didn’t even bother to try to sleep. Not with my mind spinning in a dust demon made up of my feelings. I came out of that night with a numb heart and a decision. I’ll stop wishing, hoping, or thinking we have a future. Because we don’t. It’s something I should have known, should have realized, this entire time. So I’ll focus on the only thing I can try to do something about: stopping Eidolon.
Only one acolyte, dressed showily in purple and silver vestments, goes wide-eyed as she takes in the finery of our clothing. We’re dressed to impress a king, after all. It takes her a second to collect herself and nod at us as we make our way outside.
The sunlight is intense outside in a different way than Aryd, but almost more so. Maybe because the dominion is closer to the sun way up here? Not that you can tell from Remirel that Wildernyss itself is soaring among the clouds. The air feels a little thinner is all.
From where we stand, the walls and spires of the castle rise well above the city, the banners of Wildernyss with Trysolde and Istrella’s insignia of a kirin emblazoned in a field of deep purple hanging from parapets and blowing in the breeze.
In short order, Reven and I approach the castle together on horses that Horus stole for us in the city—from someone “who could afford the loss” is the way he put it. Mine is a gorgeous creature, sleekly black and built on bigger lines than the Wanderers’ horses. Reven is on an equally impressive roan. We’re both dressed in finery borrowed from Istrella.
The others are making their own ways into the castle separately. Just in case.
“If this goes sideways and I lose control, you have to get out of here,” Reven says in a hushed voice for me alone. “Get back to the portal. Find Vos. Cain.”
I thought I had the numb thing down, but my throat thickens at the sound of his voice, at how close he is, the way he leans over. That’s the first time he’s spoken to me alone since—
Stop it, Meren.
Why can’t I make this easy on myself and on him and just not feel anymore?
