Page 98 of A Kingdom of Wild and Power
Alina drew breath, no doubt ready to answer in Sandhii, to show the king she spoke his language as fluently as her own. But before she could, Mareena placed her hand gently over Alina’s, stilling her.
Let him believe you do not know their tongue,her crimson eyes seemed to say.
Alina inclined her head in the smallest of nods, so slight it could never be noticed by anyone else.
Mareena smiled to herself.
‘Zaydan Waadi Al-Dunasi, is it not?’ Mareena said, tilting her head ever so slightly. She did not look at the young man as she spoke, keeping her attention instead on the king and on the way his white eyes widened by the barest fraction, startled that she would know the name of his thirdborn. Why would she not? It was common knowledge.
And knowledge was power.
‘An interesting name,’ Mareena went on, her gaze drifting briefly to Arena and Isla, who now seemed faintly unsettled by the turn the conversation had taken. ‘It means Sun God in Sandhii, does it not?’
‘It does,’ the king replied, pride softening his voice as he placed a hand upon his son’s shoulder.
Mareena accepted the cup of tea from the woman who entered to serve them, inclining her head in thanks before taking a slow sip. Warmth spread through her, rich and fragrant. The desert folk were extraordinarily gifted when it came to tea. She made a mental note to steal the secret if she could, to recreate it back home. They had done the same with countless other desert foods and spices already. Near the borderlands there was a town phoenixians frequented, where such delicacies were bought in abundance, carried back to the palace, and studied as carefully as any spell or weapon.
Mareena could still recall the moment her father, King Raem, had appeared in the doorway of her study. It had been shortly after Alina’s very first visit with Hessa. Mareena had been careful then, careful not to confess that she already knew of her brother’s death, or that Alina Acheron had played no part in it. She had needed to pretend ignorance. Had she not, the fire princess might have begun to ask questions. Dangerous questions. About how Mareena knew what she knew.
And Mareena knew a great deal.
Beneath the palace—far beneath its stone halls and sunlit terraces—lived the Seers. Or perhapsexistedwas the more fitting word. A vast temple chamber lay hidden there, carved from stone and devotion alike, filled with hanging gardens and veils of water that spilt endlessly from the walls, their soft murmurs crafting an illusion of serenity. It was there the Seers dwelled, meditating in silence, listening for the truths theirvisions whispered to them.
They were not permitted to leave.
Mareena had never considered that cruel. They were there to serve the crown. To serve their people. It was an honour, one few were worthy of.
She had not shown that part of the palace to Alina Acheron when they had descended into the world beneath. Alina would not have understood it. Not yet. She would not have understood why the Seers had cut out their own eyes, sacrificing sight so that visions might come to them unclouded, undistracted by the material world. She would not have understood the patience of such devotion.
Nor would she have understood Mareena’s plotting.
She would not have understood that Mareena had already been told how all of this would unfold. That she knew Alina would return after departing with Hessa. That she had known precisely when to send her phoenix into the desert.
The future, after all, had already spoken.
Mareena Noor had spent her entire life learning. There were many truths she would never confess. Among them, that she could speak almost every tongue in existence, Sandhii included, or that she had mastered the fighting techniques of lands far beyond her own.
She would never confess that she had sent her brother Zahian to drakonian lands as a sacrifice, a deliberate offering to set everything in motion.
It had all needed to unfold precisely as it had. The witch had needed to fall into their hands. A hundred years ago, they had possessed magic, yes. But magic alone had never been enough. What they had lacked was blood. They had been too hasty, killing the witches to study their magic, but they had never considered draining their blood. Storing it. Now, with blood, theycould forge weapons fit for an army. Now, they could become unstoppable.
Alina would not understand. Not yet.
But Mareena’s Seers had spoken of this too. They had told her that, in time, Alina would understand.
She would simply need patience.
And guidance.
‘I did not kill Hessa,’ Alina was saying by the time Mareena returned from the quiet corridors of her own thoughts. ‘Saren betrayed us all.’
The king frowned, lines carving deeper into his brow. ‘Why would she do such a thing?’ he asked. ‘I have known Saren since she was a child. She was my daughter Sahira’s closest friend. She grew up alongside Sahira and Hessa. Why would she betray us, all of us?’
‘Because that is not Saren,’ Mareena said calmly, lifting her cup and taking another unhurried sip of tea.
Silence fell like a blade.
Every head in the room turned towards her.
