Page 27 of A Crown of Tears and Treason (The Curse of Silver Secrets and Cruel Shadows #1)

Chapter

Twenty-Seven

EVIE

“ Y ou’re distracted,” Adara drawled as I pummeled another wooden mannequin to splinters.

I knocked it to the ground with a hard punch and nodded at my other lumber victims, upturned in a line. “I’ve done better than in all of our other training sessions.”

“Keep some of your energy, Your Grace,” Leesa said from the veranda. “We have longer lessons coming up.”

Adara’s head whipped toward her. “It’s more important for her to learn how to properly hold a sword than a fancy spoon. Why longer?”

Leesa shrugged. “Because I was instructed to.”

“I know how to hold a damn spoon,” I grumbled. It was holding the pearl crown upright on my head that I’d been having difficulties with. It kept slipping forward on my forehead whenever I moved an inch, the pearl strands catching my hair, as if it had been designed to make the wearer stand as straight and imposing as humanly possible. Perhaps to weed out weakness. The russet crown might’ve been unsightly and a meager thing, but at least it had looked easier to wear.

Adara tightened her gaze on Leesa before turning her almighty stare back to me. “Mindless violence doesn’t mean you’re a good fighter and more bodies on the ground don’t make you a victor.”

“Isn’t this what training is for?” The next mannequin collapsed with one punch. “Testing my limits?”

My limits had been pushed a lot lately.

I’d been living a lie for sixteen long, obedient years. For what?

To keep me from the dreaded Blood Brotherhood Clan? Where I trained in combat and magic and all of the things I’d been denied and chastised for wanting almost all of my life? The place where I could open whatever book I wanted and absorb every scrap of knowledge I came across?

This was the dreaded future my parents had wanted to keep me from?

The longer I thought about it, the angrier I became. And so disappointed. In them. In the great Mara and Falor who’d treated me like an inconvenience they never wanted to be shackled to.

Then there was Zandyr.

Who did he think he was, getting my blood pumping, giving me an enchanted uniform with his blood , then kissing my forehead of all things, and vanishing?

Who was he to give me attention and affection I had no clue how to interpret? Now he was gone, for gods-knew how long, and I was supposed to just stew over that ghost of a kiss until he came back?

What was this? This boiling feeling that made me want to pace and mull in bed all at the same time?

Adara approached, stopping behind me.

“The Dragon will return,” she whispered. “No whispers in the ports about his whereabouts, but I don’t need to be the Oracle of the Shuddering Isles to know he will come back.”

“Who’s that?”

“An all-knowing creature that is best avoided.”

My only reply was another punch that left fresh wounds on my knuckles and splinters digging into the mangled flesh.

I knew I wanted Zandyr to come back, more than I expected. But was I supposed to?

This was the crown prince I’d been raised to hide from my entire life. A cynical part of me, that sounded just like my parents, told me to be glad he left. I could run away.

Where? And to what? Allie, who was stuck in an icy kingdom? My other cousins, so caught up in their own problems that even Allie struggled to get hold of them? Or back to Aquila and the Protectorate high command, to watch Silas bumble his way through destroying my ancestral Clan?

Running away wouldn’t bring me closer to avenging my parents’ deaths or finding answers.

My mood didn’t lighten even after Adara threw me on my ass three times, to “make sure I get all the unsettled energy out of you”.

But I tried to brighten up for Allie.

“Breathe,” her soothing voice echoed in my library. “Imagine yourself in a calm, peaceful space. Maybe on top of one of your mountains at the cabin.”

I struggled to keep my eyes closed like she’d instructed. I wanted to pace and wring my fingers. This was ridiculous. “That brings anything but peace.”

“Oh. Then pick a place where you feel comfortable.”

Did such a thing exist? Perhaps grandpa Constantine’s estate. Then again, I’d almost drowned in his pool, so not the best choice. All I could remember was the water pressing against me. Constricting. Numbing. My lungs burning as I couldn’t breach the surface.

“Riding Zorin,” I said, the fear of suffocating replaced with the sweet breeze flowing through my hair. If I concentrated hard enough, I’d hear his thunderous galops against the frozen ground. The memory pounded at the tension inside me until it subsided.

“Good. Imagine the rustle of the leaves and the crunch of twigs as your horse runs,” Allie murmured, lulling me further into the fantasy.

“Zorin. His name is Zorin.”

“ Zorin . Feel the sun heating your cheeks. Hear his neighs. Smell the leather of the harness.”

My fingers flexed, wanting to grip his luxurious mane.

“That’s it.” Allie murmured, tranquil as a brook–which iced over with her next words. “Now imagine Zorin dying, blood splattering everywhere.”

My eyes flew open. “What the–”

“Eyes closed. Do it. Imagine your beloved Zorin dying.”

I squinted my eyes shut, face tightening. The image of Zorin crumbling underneath me flooded my mind.

Only we weren’t in the forest anymore.

We were at the cabin.

Flames rose high, as if to sear the sky itself.

My parents lay lifeless on the ground, blood gushing from their necks.

A hoard of masked assassins rose from the smoke.

Zorin’s bloody, heaving body was at my feet, his eyes begging me to help. To treat the gashes. To fight death itself.

And I couldn’t move.

Not in my mind, not in the library.

My chest burned.

“That’s it,” Allie whispered excitedly. “Hold that thought.”

This horrible, horrid thought. I forced myself to stay in the nightmare as Zorin wheezed a ghastly wail.

Then his body transformed into Allie’s. Gasping and clutching the crimson gash on her neck. Her hand stretched toward me, pleading for help.

I couldn’t move.

The burn in my chest flowed down my arms.

“Good, good,” real Allie said.

Her bloody body turned into Dax’s.

Then Clara’s.

Then Dara’s.

Then Zandyr’s.

“Open your eyes!”

My eyelids flew open, only to be met with a haze of blue. Something burned around me, but I couldn’t see anything from the light.

Only Allie’s face shone through.

She was here.

She was alive.

She was breathing.

The light instantly vanished. I flopped onto the nearest chair, depleted of all energy.

“You stopped your power, we’re getting closer.” Allie said, sounding thrilled. “Did it hurt?”

“Yes.” My voice was raspy. Had I screamed?

“Power demands sacrifice. Do it again.”

Again.

And again.

And again.

Day after day, I was thrashed around by Adara, burned by Allie, and then had to balance weights on my head with Leesa, to “get that perfect queen poise” and be able to handle the huge pearl crown with grace.

Adara had started joining our little etiquette sessions, sharpening her knives in the corner. Her grimace grew with each lesson.

Poor Goose brought me soothing bandages each night in the library, making sure the ointment didn’t drip onto the mountain of books I’d surrounded myself with.

“You’ve lost weight,” Adara said instead of a hello as I marched into the inner courtyard after another brutal week with no news about Zandyr and his warriors. Adara still went down to the bars in the port every day to gather information. None so far. No rumors, no whispers, no hushed warnings. The number of civilians coming into the Capital had lowered dramatically, but I still sent the same amount of food every day. Nobody in the Capital would go hungry while I was here.

I was getting worried, tossing and turning all night whenever I managed to crawl into bed. Zandyr haunted me both in sweet dreams, where his fingers danced across my heated flesh, and in my bloody nightmares, in which he roared my name.

I wiped the dregs of fitful sleep from my eyes. “Good morning to you, too.”

No mannequins flanked the fence today.

Adara glowered and threw me a sword. I caught it by the hilt and my wrist didn’t even bend.

I was stronger and faster. Her training was working. Allie’s however…I’d singed the first pages off a book yesterday. I hoped they had a copy, or Eric the Eccentric’s mad tales written in prison would be lost forever.

Adara faced me, a grim angle to her mouth. “Stance.”

I placed my feet shoulder-width apart, bent my elbows, and raised my blade, just like she taught me.

I anticipated her first blow and blocked it with a loud metal clank. Adara always went for the shins. But she used that momentum to spin down into a crouch and sweep my feet right from under me. I fell with an unceremonious thud and my aching, exhausted body didn’t want to rise again.

“Get up,” Adara hissed as she yanked me back up and didn’t let go of my arm. “The guards are watching.”

They peered from behind the fence, helmets shining. I hadn’t seen the big guard with the rough salt voice and kindness in his eyes since Zandyr had left.

“It’s your choice what they see. A victor or a loser.” Adara pushed me away. “Again.”

I clenched my jaw and raised my weapon.

Adara’s next blow was more powerful. The force shoved me to the side, straining my ankles. But I stood upright and swung my sword right back at her, adrenaline pumping through my veins.

She ducked and kicked me back down. “Get up.”

I steadied myself on my elbows, coarse dirt digging into my skin. “What’s gotten into you?”

Adara was unforgiving in her training and demanded more of me than I thought possible, but she’d never been brutal.

“You.” She pointed the tip of her sword at me. There was fury in her eyes. “I didn’t agree to our training sessions to see you wasting away. You will be queen–”

“I know–”

Adara was upon me in a flash. She trapped my arms against my body and leaned over me menacingly.

“You don’t know,” she hissed. “You don’t know what’s waiting for you. The hurt that will come once you have that crown on your pretty head. Be prepared for it. Be stronger.”

I thrashed underneath her, but it was useless. She had a steel grip on me and wouldn’t let go. “I’m trying!”

“You know what they’re whispering about in the ports? About secret shipments of jewels and golden brocade for the blasted wedding.” She spit the words like they had burned her tongue. “And you .”

She grabbed the back of my head, fingers digging into my scalp.

My bodyguard was gone. Instead, I was staring into the furious face of the mercenary. “They’re calling you The Blue Death. Those people you blinded have regained their sight, but they’re terrified of you. ”

My insides turned leaden. “I tried to save them.”

“It doesn’t matter. All they saw was a Protectorate member they don’t know killing people and destroying their temple. The whispers are growing louder in the Dragon’s absence.” Adara’s eyes blazed. “Blood Brotherhood respects and expects power from their leaders for them. Nothing else. Be powerful.”

Adara’s words hurt–but not as much as the flare of magic in my chest.

“Get off me. Get away!” I bucked and, in my panic, managed to throw her off.

Or maybe she sensed the blue tendrils roaring to break free from me.

I twisted into a kneel, dragging breath after breath until the blaze subsided. The last thing I wanted was to hurt anyone else.

“I can only train you so far,” Adara said, completely devoid of emotion. “The rest is up to you. You have no idea what you’ll have to face.”

I spit the reddish dust from my lips, a roar in my ears. “Then tell me.”

Adara pursed her lips. “Ask The Dragon.”

“Your Grace!” a cry came from the path.

Leesa barreled into the courtyard, apples falling from her basket and rolling into the dirt.

“The prince’s warriors have returned,” she yelled, not breaking her run. “He’s not with them.”