Page 61 of A Crown of Tears and Treason (The Curse of Silver Secrets and Cruel Shadows #1)

Chapter

Sixty-One

EVIE

O ne by one, dozens of guards marched before the gate to my house, with their helmets and spears gleaming gold today. A special day. My wedding.

My heart fell somewhere near my jewel-encrusted shoes as more and more of them appeared on the path.

Thirty. Exactly thirty.

My skin turned clammy. Thirty-four shadows, now thirty guards.

I flicked my switchblade open before I knew I’d done it.

“Stand down,” Adara gritted through clenched teeth. “More are coming.”

More, so many more steps. But this wasn’t the precise rhythm of the guards, shaking the windows as they passed.

No, this was graceful strength. The swift feet of people who’d marched into battle, had come back victorious, and didn’t need to announce their presence to intimidate.

Thirty of Zandyr’s warriors stepped between the guards. They all had golden lapels on their broad shoulders, dressed in the same black armor with blood vials.

I recognized a few of them from when their group had returned from battle. The one who’d had his leg cut off to save his life stood in the middle.

Together, they bowed toward me as one. The guards remained standing, stiff as poles.

“They were supposed to escort you the day before,” Adara whispered before tightening her jaw and raising her chin. “For the good of the Blood Brotherhood!” she shouted.

A chorus of “For the good of the Blood Brotherhood!” called back, as the warriors pressed their open palms above their hearts. Their eyes narrowed on the guards who still didn’t make a single movement toward me.

I couldn’t care less. I didn’t need bows and kneels, I needed them to keep their spears away from me.

I sheathed my switchblade. “Thank you for joining us today,” I called out to them.

The warriors exchanged a confused glance. A few smiled, surprise twisting their features. Perhaps they remembered me from that day as well.

I planned on being a great queen, not a cold one.

We walked out of the courtyard and the safety of my home–whatever safety it still had after the scrolls had been taken while we fought for our lives–in the middle of the awaiting rows of guards and warriors. Enemies and Zandyr’s allies, who might become mine, too.

Toward the end of the rows, I spotted Owyn. I only spared a glance his way, but I noticed the deep circles under his eyes were gone and the cloud of worry no longer clung to his broad shoulders. Quick, quick enough that nobody else detected the gesture, he inclined his head. A thank you for the package his daughter had received.

I hadn’t needed or expected it, but it warmed my heart all the same. Perhaps the hold the advisors had on the Blood Brotherhood Clan could be broken in more ways than one. Grandpa Constantine had raised me to be a kind leader.

I would become one. Perhaps not soon, judging from Zavoya and Eldryan youthful glow, but that future would come. As crown princess, there were so many more things I could do. People I could help. Mysteries I could crack.

Soon.

Flanked on both sides, I waited. The sacred seven bells announcing my arrival hadn’t come yet. A chorus of cheers erupted from the heart of Phoenix Peak, near the temple.

Zandyr must have arrived.

I sent a slow wave of longing his way. The barrest echo reflected back, drowned by a sea of hatred. Not toward me. I knew that disdain well, and had an ember of it inside myself. He’d probably laid eyes on the advisors.

I could already picture Banu and Valuta, standing next to the king and queen, those sickly sweet grins on their faces, their magic probably poisoning Zavoya and Eldryan’s minds.

I still couldn’t understand it, not truly. How Zavoya and Eldryan, who radiated power, had succumbed to the lies of Banu and Valuta, mind-bending powers or not. Valuta had tried skewing my thoughts, too.

Perhaps it was Allie’s spell protecting me once more.

Perhaps it was something more.

Some grain of stubbornness, planted there by grandpa Constantine, that hadn’t been suffocated by the mountains or my parents. Or maybe it was because of what I’d had to endure. Hunger had a strange way of honing instincts, turning them into a blade sharper than the ones worn by the warriors or Adara.

Or Zandyr had been right–Zavoya and Eldryan’s love was too selfish. Too all-consuming to look past their little bubble of happiness and youth.

Perhaps being fated mates truly made one ignorant to the world.

I hoped not. Because if I and Zandyr truly had been crafted for each other by the gods and had a love unlike any other waiting for us, I never wanted it to blind me from reality.

I’d find out soon enough, wouldn’t I? Once we exchanged our blood in the chalice.

I rolled my shoulders back, feeling the strain of the train that dominated the long path. A small smile twisted my lips. Tradition dictated that only Zandyr could undress me tonight, just as I was the only one who could rid him of the armor he undoubtedly wore.

After that…well, I planned on enjoying my wedding night to the hilt. Desire burned through me as the image of Zandyr’s magnificent body engulfed my thoughts. The muscles he’d trained, the dragon and the responsibility it bore. And his eyes. Those fantastic orbs that always looked at me as if seeing too much, all at once, and always wanting more.

It was intoxicating, the thrum of his attention on me. I wanted those eyes to caress me every morning and every night of passion. Through warm embraces and tired sighs.

I wanted it all. With him. Only him.

With this magnificent prince who’d done everything in his power to protect his Clan, even as danger festered inside it. Who’d saved his people and had come to save me in the forest.

I wanted to share the responsibility with him, to create a better future for those who needed it.

Perhaps that’s why the gods had whispered to my parents to hide me in the mountains. To face hardships.

So I could protect others from it.

I’d told Leesa the truth. I wanted to be a great queen. Perhaps not as revered in the afterlife as Dria, but at least loved and respected during my lifetime.

I would protect my people, like the Protectorate blood in me craved to do.

My shoulders squared, my chin tilted, I felt taller. Prouder. Ready.

The bells rang not even a second later, rattling through me.

I nodded at Adara, whom the warriors looked at as if seeing both a ghost and a goddess.

“Steel yourself,” was all she muttered as we began to move as one, my silent steps accompanied by strong, proud ones.

The road to the main temple was just as crowded as on the night of the Oracle’s prediction. No flames winked back at me now. Instead, garlands twisted out of rainbow flowers adorned the entire Citadel, from the trees to the houses and their residents’ necks.

Some smiled, some waved, some still narrowed their eyes. It would be a journey to win them over, but I’d taken the first steps and I’d continue my path.

Trust wasn’t earned from one day to the next, especially with so much bad blood between the Protectorate and the Blood Brotherhood.

I could patch up and sew the Clans together, like I’d done with the power lying dormant inside me. The stitches on my imagined pocket were still stiffer than before I’d been kidnapped, but they were healing. I’d ask Allie about it when we talked next.

My chest heaved. I’d wanted my cousins here too. I could imagine Allie in a staring match with Adara, sizing each other up as the powerful hunters they both were. Dax making a joke that would get him surrounded by the guards’ spears and then just laughing and showing them, exactly, why nobody should ever threaten him. Clara catching the eyes of everyone who thought the Protectorate were distorted evil creatures, changing their minds with her radiating beauty and energy. Dara casting her eyes over everyone and everything, noting the details even I had missed in my months here.

Dara would have loved the advisors’ Archives.

Once I was crown princess, they could visit. With that beautiful crown on my head, I would be part of the Clan and I could invite them into my home, to fill it with their laughter and their quarrels and their jokes.

So much had changed in these last months– I had changed–but I knew, deep in my bones, my cousins would always be a safe haven for me. One I needed to protect at all costs, from whomever wanted us all destroyed.

Zandyr would protect them as well. Not because he particularly cared for my cousins, but for my sake and my peace. I couldn’t name it, but there was something in our connection…something deep and raw and selfless that cocooned me whenever I felt its echo from Zandyr.

A year ago, he’d been the creature to fear in the night, who’d ruin me and my family. Now he was an ally.

My closest.

My groom.

My future husband.

The crowd was thicker and more restless at the base of the temple, the gold on the high arches reflecting on the civilians. The red doors had been swung open wide, flowers cascading from the necks of the dragons carved above it. If they had been alive, they probably would’ve seen it as an affront to be so mortally embellished.

The crowd applauded and cheered, looking at the entrance to the temple, way above the steps. One by one, alerted by my procession, they turned.

Claps still resounded all around me. Perhaps not as enthusiastically, but they were there, and they gave me hope that one day the Blood Brotherhood civilians would be as happy to see me as they obviously were at Zandyr’s arrival in the temple. My heart beat rapidly, but my skin didn’t turn clammy. Maybe I was getting used to so many curious eyes watching my every move.

The guards and warriors stopped at the base of the stairs. Only Adara joined me as I soared up them, slower than my feet wanted to carry me. Leesa had said I had to walk to the rhythm of the mighty drums flanking the edges of the stairs, beating against my chest.

So I did, back straight, gaze not straying from the doors. I couldn’t look down, not for a moment.

“Our leaders can’t second-guess themselves,” Leesa had warned. “They are guided by a power and an instinct stronger than ours.”

I let my connection with Zandyr guide me. Closer and closer to the entrance of the temple. Inside, hundreds of souls awaited my arrival; I heard their whispers, felt the vibration of their impatient feet through the stone.

In the middle of the stairs, the sacred cauldron awaited on top of its golden pole carved with mythical flowers and animals. It was old, perhaps older than the humans who now used it. Flames murmured inside the cauldron, not daring to breach its rim.

Zandyr and I had to throw our letters in it and watch how the smoke billowed. Each direction and height had a different meaning, which the crones of the Capital would unravel and reveal to anyone who’d listen. Too low, and there was no love or peace to be had within the couple. Too faint, and there wasn’t enough passion. The bigger the smoke swelled, the better.

Adara stopped right next to it. “I’ll be right here.”

I understood what she left unsaid. If you need me .

Right now, all I needed was to see Zandyr and get these nerves under control.

I reached onto the last step, shoes digging into the red carpet waiting for me. Slowly, I let my gaze trickle inside, past the hundreds of faces now staring directly at me.

The world crashed around me as I looked up at the altar. Zandyr stood there, still as a statue and menacing as a god, a lethal storm in his eyes.

But he wasn’t alone.