The Consort Page 16

  “Lucky guess,” she lied.

  Kael offered to help her onto the horse, but she put her foot in the stirrup and hopped into her spot, as if she had been made to be on the back of a horse. He quirked a smile at her and mounted the midnight stallion. He guided them out of the stables and toward the tree line.

  Once they were on a well-worn trail, Kael turned his attention back to her. “Tell me what happened.”

  “What happened?” Cyrene laughed humorlessly.

  “What else happened,” he clarified. “You seem…different.”

  “I’m ready.”

  “For?”

  “That conversation. You said you would tell me everything. That we needed to talk and you would explain. Then, you avoided me at all costs. I am ready now.”

  “Cyrene—”

  “No,” she said, her voice harsh. “If you are trying to play nice with Edric, I’d advise against it. I no longer think a united front is a smart play.”

  “How so?”

  “Kael, just stop it,” Cyrene commanded.

  She came to a halt, and he pulled up next to her.

  “He threatened my family. He said he would kill them if I tried to leave.”

  Kael’s face was impassive. She didn’t know what he was thinking or feeling about the incident.

  “He has lost his mind. I don’t know what has changed with him, but he is no longer the person I knew. And, frankly, I don’t want to know him. I will not be threatened, but I won’t put my family in danger either.”

  “What is it that you want from me, Cyrene?” Kael asked with that devilish smile.

  “You told me that you were protecting me, that you knew how to control it, that we could be so much more if we were unified,” Cyrene baldly told him.

  “True.”

  “Then, show me how. Train me. If we’re better together, then I want what you’re offering. I am tired of always being a step behind and always being used. I want the power. I want to rule.”

  Finally, a true smile broke on Kael’s face. “You realize that is treason you are speaking, my dear.”

  “I know exactly what I’m saying.”

  “Good.” His eyes swept over her body. “This suits you.”

  Cyrene tilted her chin up. “Well, will you teach me?”

  “Of course,” he said, reaching his hand out toward her. “All you had to do was ask.”

  She placed her hand in his, and a tingle ran up her arm. She tried to shake off the feeling that she had just made a deal with the devil. But it lingered like a fever.

  Kael gestured for her to follow him, and she edged her horse into a trot. He finally came to a stop in a small clearing that reminded her of the place where she had met Dean. Her heart constricted, and she buried the feeling. It was just a meadow. That was all.

  Cyrene dismounted, and Kael tied up their horses nearby. Her eyes roamed the clearing, trying to ascertain why he had brought her here. The grass was short and yellowing from the drought of the past year. But it was already coming back to life from the last storm. With dark clouds rolling in from her earlier temper, she knew the ground would once more be soaked. She didn’t know how long she and Kael could even be out here with the storm brewing so near.

  “Stand here,” Kael directed her.

  She moved to the center of the field and expectantly faced him. Everything she had learned from Avoca and then Matilde and Vera flittered through her brain, and she prepared herself for what was to come. Long hours of meditation, communing with the elements, readying her mind to accept magic, and working methodically to improve bit by tiny bit. For she had never had trouble with excess magic; it was always the little things that she couldn’t master. And, without each step along the way, she never could become a master.

  She took a deep breath and closed her eyes.

  “Whatever are you doing?” he asked.

  Her eyes snapped open. “Preparing?”

  “Forget everything you know, Cyrene.”

  “What do you know about what I know anyway?”

  His grin was quick and merciless. “That you have more potential than you know what to do with and no idea how to wield it.”

  “That’s not—”

  “Don’t lie to me. You asked for my help. I’m giving it. You need to stop hindering yourself. Stop fumbling for control that you already possess.”

  “But I don’t—”

  “You do.”

  He snapped his fingers, and she staggered forward a step into him. He tilted her chin up so that their lips were almost touching. She tried to pull away from him, but he held her in place with a glance. She glared at him in response.

  “Give in to your emotions, Cyrene.”

  “Let me go.”

  “Make me.”

  She ground her teeth together, struggled unsuccessfully to free herself, and stared back, defiant. “What emotions?”

  “All of them. All of the buried anger and fury and jealousy and lust and wrath. Let go of your fears, and give in to that raw power you’re hiding away.”

  “You’re not making any sense.”

  He trailed a finger down her cheek. Her heart accelerated, and she swallowed. She didn’t know how far he would take this. How much he would push her. She was immobilized, and he had barely blinked. He could have done this to her at any point on the boat while they were in the same bed…yet he hadn’t.

  This was part of the lesson.

  “Do you remember that time I came to your rooms?” Kael asked.

  He paced a lazy circle around her, and she hastily tracked him with her eyes.

  “You believe I took advantage of you.”

  “How exactly could I forget that night?” she spat. “It was after my Presenting ball.”

  “What did you feel that night?”

  “Like I was going to rip you apart limb from limb for being so presumptuous.”

  He laughed, as if she had made a joke. “Your history is so interesting. But, nonetheless, take that feeling, rip it out of you. Let it guide you, and take a step.”

  “I don’t see—”

  Kael was standing in front of her in a second, his eyes darkening and his mood shifting. “Don’t waste my time, Cyrene. I gave you a command. There are a lot of better ways that I could be spending my time with you.” His eyes flickered up and down her body. “You stopped that assassin from killing you with no thought whatsoever, except anger fueling your body. When you submit to that, I won’t be able to do this unless you want me to.”

  His hands moved to her shoulders and down her arms. Then, they spread to her hips and up her waist to run along her rib cage. She closed her eyes and remembered exactly how she had felt that night when he tried to do this without her permission. How she had felt when that assassin attempted to murder her. The anger burned through her. Her magic came to her on instinct, and without breaking a sweat, she pulled her arms up and sent Kael sprawling backward into the dirt.

  “Do not touch me without my permission.” She seethed.

  But Kael just smiled. “Well done. Now, do it again.”

  This time, when she was immobilized, she didn’t even blink before breaking out of his entrapment, as if she were tearing through cotton.

  Kael stood and dusted off his pants. “You know, the funny thing about memories.”

  “What’s that?” she asked, heady on the feel of her powers actually working for once.

  “Sometimes, they’re false.”

  “How could my own memories be false?”

  “You remember me trying to take advantage of you. You wield that night like a weapon. You push that distance between us because of it.”

  “With good reason.”

  “I never tried to take advantage of you, Cyrene.”

  He took that last step toward her and intertwined their fingers. Her magic hungrily fed off of his, and their powers sparked and hissed with the connection.

  “I felt this. The moment you walked into that room, you were like a bea
con in the night. I couldn’t have walked away if I tried. When I escorted you back to your room that night, I believed that you felt as I did. This.”

  Cyrene swallowed. “And you acted like a pompous, entitled jerk when you were wrong.”

  “That’s who I am, love.”

  Cyrene shook her head and stepped back from Kael. She felt like an idiot for working with him.

  Even if he had felt their connection from the moment I met him, did it really change anything between them? She had too many questions and not enough answers.

  “Why does my magic react to anger?” she asked to change the subject.

  She wasn’t sure if she wanted all of her questions answered yet. She might come to regret her own decisions, but for now, she needed the power.

  “Because your magic comes from within you. When your emotions are high, you are in more control. You need to reach that place within you that lets you feel most acutely, and then there are no limits.”

  It seemed so counterintuitive. So backward to how she had been taught. Yet she knew he was right. She flicked her wrist, and water from the nearby stream pooled into her palm. She circled it between her fingers like waves and then made a halo around Kael’s head before drawing it back to her hands. Water always was her main element. The easiest, even when she had fumbled for control. But, now…it felt like breathing.

  “You have the world at your fingertips, Cyrene. All I want is to be at your side as we take it over.”

  Her magic faltered, and the water dropped helplessly onto the ground. Her hands were wet and she sighed. So much for control.

  She knew the path she had entered on would have consequences. Yet she couldn’t help second-guessing every choice that she had made to get here. And she needed to stop.

  She had power. She was not going to let it go to waste any longer.

  “And how exactly will we do that?”

  “In my experience, it’s best to do it from the inside. Then, no one will see it coming.”

  Falling into the role of the soon-to-be consort was effortless when Cyrene had a mission to work toward. She had her family to consider, and though falling into line had never been her strong suit, she was determined to keep them safe. It helped that Edric was preoccupied with the birth of his first child, and Cyrene could go about getting ready for her Investiture without any more of his wild interference.

  It was three days after her blowup with Edric when she was called to the queen’s rooms. She had no idea why Kaliana would possibly want to see her. They were rivals at best, bitter enemies at worst. But she did as was expected of her.

  The queen’s rooms were still set for confinement. Dark curtains covered all but one window, and only a handful of candles otherwise brightened the room. Kaliana was lying in a massive bed set low to the ground. Her hair had been pulled back off her face, but she looked gaunt and drawn, as if the birth had not been easy. As if she was only a few steps from the grave.

  “You wanted to see me,” Cyrene said, stepping into Kaliana’s room and curtsying. It was barely a curtsy though. More of a short bob between equals. A deference to her throne but not to her power over Cyrene. For the best thing of all of this was that the queen no longer had any power over her at all.

  “Cyrene,” she spat the word like a curse. “Yes, come in.”

  Cyrene stepped into the room just as a small coo came from a nursemaid in the corner. Cyrene’s eyes swept to the woman and saw she was holding the tiny infant.

  A girl.

  That was as much as Cyrene knew. As anyone knew.

  The baby’s name wouldn’t be announced until tonight. When Cyrene glanced once more at Kaliana, she could see the disappointment etched into every line. All of that work…for a girl.

  “She’s beautiful,” Cyrene offered.

  “She’s a girl.”

  “Yes. And a beautiful woman she will become.”

  “To be married off to some prince for an alliance.”

  “Strong,” Cyrene continued. “Like her father.”

  Kaliana flinched. “Worthless.”

  Cyrene felt as if she understood Kaliana in that moment. Just a young princess sent from her home to be with a man she had never met. Then, to not even be able to produce a male heir after all she had suffered. If she wasn’t such a wretched human being because of it all, Cyrene might have sympathized with her more. What is my world coming to that I’m aligning with Kael and identifying with Kaliana?

  “Have you decided what to call her?”

  “Alessia Salina.”

  “Perfect.” Cyrene stepped up to the baby and saw her little tuft of hair peeking out of her swaddle. “Little Alessia Salina Dremylon.”

  “Davila,” Kaliana said sharply, “take Alessia into the nursery.”

  The nursemaid hopped up at once and scurried into the next room over.

  “We need to talk,” Kaliana said as soon as they were alone.

  Cyrene turned to face the queen and arched an eyebrow. Kaliana looked sickly, even more run-down than when Cyrene had first entered her rooms.

  “Do we?”

  “Don’t play games with me. You’re still my Affiliate until you have your Investiture. You will listen to me.”

  Cyrene laughed in Kaliana’s face. “When did I ever listen to you?”

  “You were always trouble. Seducing my husband, walking around as if you were royalty, as if you owned the kingdom. So young. So naive. So idiotic,” Kaliana spat at her.

  “I did not come here to be insulted,” Cyrene said. “If you cannot control your sharp tongue, then I have no qualms in leaving you here to rot.”

  “Is that a threat?”

  “Hardly. But I am no longer that girl you remember, Kaliana, and I will not tolerate your insolence.”

  “My insolence,” Kaliana said on a gasp. “You wretched girl.”

  “Creator, I don’t know why I expected anything else from you.” Cyrene whirled around and headed for the door.

  She hadn’t come here to be insulted. She certainly hadn’t come here to have to deal with Kaliana, as she had a year earlier. She might not want to become consort, but she wasn’t about to turn down the privilege of holding that over Kaliana’s head. The queen frankly had no hold on her any longer.

  “Wait,” Kaliana said, stopping Cyrene at the door.

  Cyrene stilled, but she didn’t turn around.

  “I didn’t ask you here to argue.”

  “Really?” she asked, whirling around. “It appears that way to me.”

  “You won. Is that what you’d like to hear?”

  “Not at all. It was never a competition. You were the only one who saw it that way.”

  Kaliana waved her hand in the air, dismissing Cyrene’s words. “I’m sick, Cyrene.”

  Cyrene paced back toward Kaliana’s bedside. “How sick?”

  Kaliana’s watery blue eyes said enough. Very sick. Deathly sick.

  “I’m not worried about me anymore. I knew this was always a possibility with my…previous pregnancies.”

  Kaliana had had a number of miscarriages before, and Cyrene, as many others, had thought she might never have a child.

  “What matters now,” Kaliana continued, “is Alessia. Protect her. Care for her. She is a royal princess, and I don’t want her to be pushed aside. I want her to grow up as she should.”

  “Kaliana,” Cyrene said softly, “I don’t know what you expect from me.”

  “Edric will remarry. You. I am sure of it,” Kaliana said with a grimace. “She will be your stepchild. All I ask is that you care for her as I would. As if she were your own child.”

  Cyrene felt dizzy. Her head was spinning. It was all too much at once. If Kaliana died, Edric would remarry. He would never be satisfied with Cyrene as his consort if he could have her as his wife.

  And another vision hit her fresh. One she had not thought about in some time. In the Rose Garden ceremony, when she had been bound to her home and the Dremylon line, she had had a vision of K
aliana taking Cyrene’s child, insisting that it was the last heir of the Dremylon line. It had been an illusion, a possible past, present, or future. Or just a dream. She still didn’t know. But the idea of taking Alessia into her arms, of even considering taking her away, seemed too close for comfort.

  “Kaliana, I cannot,” she finally said.

  “Haven’t you done enough harm to this kingdom? Must you be so selfish that you cannot even be tasked with saving an innocent’s life?”

  Cyrene closed her eyes and ground her teeth together. She was responsible for the troubles in the kingdom, but she would not be Edric’s wife. And, if she would not marry him, then the baby would never be her responsibility.

  “All right,” Cyrene relented, “I will care for her.”

  Tears welled in Kaliana’s eyes. Tears of gratitude. “I can go in peace now.”

  “But you will get well, Kaliana. I am a contingency plan. You will make it.”

  “It matters not.”

  Cyrene sighed and wondered what kind of promise she had just given. For whatever she had done, Kaliana did seem at peace.

  Just then, the door burst open. Cyrene jumped back from Kaliana’s bed, and her magic came to the tips of her fingers without thought. She braced herself for an attack, but only Edric stepped into the room. He stumbled forward a step at seeing them together.

  “Cyrene,” he said like a vow. Then, his eyes swept to his dying wife. “Kaliana.”

  “Edric,” Kaliana said crisply.

  “How is our daughter?”

  “She’s nursing.”

  “I’m going to…” Cyrene gestured to the door.

  She slipped out the door and sighed in relief at having escaped. She needed to see Kael. She needed to train more. Her magic was coming to her easily, but she wanted more. Every time she used it, it felt as if her core was draining of power. She had never had that sensation before without using unimaginable quantities of power. She’d been eating twice as much as before to try to sustain at the level she was working at. And, worse yet, sleep hadn’t been coming readily. When it did, her dreams were plagued with nightmares—sinking ships, monsters, death. Always death.

  Still, she didn’t want to stop. She couldn’t stop. No matter how hard she was working and how much easier it came, she was still behind Kael. He pushed and prodded at her boundaries, and she would fight back, but he’d had so much more time than her to practice.