Page 29 of A Flame of the Phoenix (An Heir Comes to Rise #6)
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
Zaiana
T hey made it to Lakelaria’s castle the evening after they woke up in the cellar. Zaiana had rested far better than she had on the ship, but part of her was dealing with turmoil over why that was.
Kyleer hadn’t talked much during their long hours walking. She was grateful for it. When they came to the center of Alandra, the castle was a magnificent spectacle. Sharp fangs of glass that appeared like ice made up many tall peaks of the architecture. Surrounding the castle was a wide lake—a good measure of defense considering the Waterweilders no doubt posted in the guard surrounding it.
At the bridge to take them over, she was surprised to find Reylan Arrowood waiting, standing cross-armed, with a pissed-off look of loathing.
“What took you this long?” he snapped.
She gave no reaction to that. “We took our much needed rest bite after your volatile mate nearly killed us all.”
Reylan led them over the bridge as if he were the general of this kingdom, not Rhyenelle. It was tragic really, and if he ever broke free of Marvellas’s influence, he was sure to despise himself for all he’d betrayed.
Kyleer’s expression remained torn with anger and pain when he stared at his friend, but he stayed obedient, having not fought in the slightest.
The interior of the glass palace gave a conflicting warmth she enjoyed. They could watch the snowstorms rage and ice form around them through the many clear walls while held in the confines of their protection. Zaiana marveled over the white stone that complemented the halls, and the gold filigree that decorated pillars and stone walls. Everything was so pure and delicate she couldn’t help but feel like a dark stain on its crystal elegance.
They were led into a hall lined with pillars, with a heightened dais at the far end. The throne appeared as if the heavens had rained tears that had speared into the ground to form a chair of icicles, pointing in many directions but still forming an oval back and short sides. Upon it sat the depiction of an angel, if she were ever to imagine the mythical creature, though without wings. The Queen of Lakelaria, Zaiana deduced.
Her hair was as white as snow, as were her eyebrows and lashes, Zaiana saw the closer they got. Her dress was white and silver, making her blend in with her surroundings, and there was a certain haunting aura about that. As if she were a ghost bound to this hall.
Though nothing stunned her as much as seeing Faythe Ashfyre at the bottom of the dais.
“Welcome.” The queen’s voice was like a breath of frozen wind: gentle but not kind. The monarch stood. The flowing fabric of her white gown moved like the sea as she descended the wide white stone steps. “I was just inviting my first guests to dine with me this evening. Now I’m glad there will be more to share the spoils.”
Zaiana hoped that wouldn’t include her. She would stand by and guard if requested, but she hadn’t expected the Queen of Lakelaria. She’d hoped Marvellas would be here, but the Spirit was absent.
“You’re kind to host us,” Faythe said tightly.
Reylan had been the one to lead them all here, and Zaiana had followed, under the impression it was to deliver Faythe and Kyleer to the Spirit Marvellas. She slipped Reylan an accusatory look he met with vacancy, once again a shell of the great general of Rhyenelle.
“Where’s Marvellas?” Zaiana blurted.
The tension in the room thickened at the mention.
“You come into my castle and request to see someone else?”
The question froze like a sheet of ice beneath her feet: one wrong step, and she would fall right through.
“Forgive me.” Zaiana forced the words with no sincerity. “It’s just that she sent for us to retrieve these two and bring them here, it seems.”
“As I hear, you were never part of that request.”
“If I hadn’t interfered, she wouldn’t have two prizes instead of one.”
The queen’s hazel eyes flicked over Kyleer, but her expression didn’t shift in the slightest. “I suppose not. The Spirit is out of sight for now. It’s hard to know who you can truly trust.”
She bit her tongue against speaking out of line, but this was ridiculous.
“All this time, Lakelaria has pretended to be peaceful and uninvolved in this war. The truth is, you’ve been harboring Marvellas all along, I assume?”
“You would be wise to keep assumptions to yourself.”
Zaiana decided she didn’t like this queen in the slightest. Something wasn’t right.
“What do you want us to do with the prisoners?” she asked reluctantly.
“Don’t let them escape. I will see you all at supper.”
With that, the queen made to leave, and Zaiana was left bemused and beyond frustrated.
“What is the meaning of all of this?” she hissed to Reylan, since it was his instruction to cross the sea with Faythe and Kyleer.
“We got them to our destination,” he said simply.
“And now what? We let them roam free?”
“No. Keep him in chains. I’ve got an eye on Faythe until the queen requests our presence later. Keep yours on him.”
Zaiana was itching to sink her claws into his eyes so he couldn’t keep them on anything. She observed how Faythe wasn’t chained anymore, nor did it look like he was going to replace the chains. Zaiana took it as an insult, implying she couldn’t handle Kyleer without incapacitating him.
Reylan steered a sour-looking Faythe Ashfyre toward the side exit, and Zaiana was at a complete loss over what in the Nether was happening. She’d never been in the middle of such confusing, disorganized mess.
“Disappointed they’re not ordering you to string me up and torment me?” Kyleer said in question as they stared after Reylan and Faythe. “Me too. I think we both could have enjoyed it.”
That snapped her glower to him. What was she supposed to do with him until their damned dinner party?
“Let’s go,” she said, shoving him toward the same door.
“I’ve never been to this castle. Have you?”
“No.”
“You don’t like the cold—that’s clear enough.”
“Who does?”
“Lakelarians, probably.”
Something had been bothering her that she hadn’t been able to place. Nothing about this situation felt right, and she was beginning to suspect she was the only clueless fool among several with a hidden agenda.
They curved down a hall that was deserted, and Zaiana pushed Kyleer against the wall.
“You didn’t appear the least bit concerned nor surprised to see Faythe just now, considering you had no idea what happened to her after the blast.”
“She’s powerful and smart—my concern isn’t needed.”
“You just hoped she would show up eventually? Bullshit.”
“What exactly is your accusation?”
There was an edge of amusement to his tone, twitching on his face too, which was boiling her anger. She was used to being a step ahead, knowing what others didn’t, and it was infuriating her to no end to feel two steps behind here.
“It’s not too late for you,” he said, barely a whispered breath, but it slammed into her with the weight of a rock.
“Are you really that pathetic?” she hissed. “Will it only take a dagger through your chest for you to accept I’m not on your side and never will be?”
“Why? What have they ever done for you?”
“No one has ever done anything for me.”
“Then why are you helping them?”
Maybe she didn’t even know that herself anymore.
“Stop trying to see if there’s redemption in me—there isn’t.”
“There’s a lot in you, Zai. There’s a soul you want to deny exists and a heart you want to forget could feel.”
Kyleer choked. Zaiana hadn’t realized what she’d done until trickles of his blood spilled over the hilt of the blade she’d lodged into his side. Pain twitched his expression, and surprise filled his eyes.
“That look right there…that’s why you’re a delusional fool.”
Yanking the blade free, Kyleer’s bound hands put pressure on the wound. The blade was small, but his fae healing was nullified with the Magestone around his wrists. His groans of pain disturbed her, but her resentment was stronger, and she tunneled away to feel nothing at all.
She would not be dining with them all tonight, and no one had given her instruction over the state he was to arrive in either.
“I’ve been waiting for that,” he said, strained.
“That’s just a scratch compared to what I’ll do if you keep pushing, Ky.”
His green eyes found her, and there was a glimmer in them as he said, “I like it when you call me that.”
He was impossible.
Zaiana snatched ahold of the chain between his hands and yanked him without care down the hall.
“Where are we going?” Kyleer asked. She felt nothing for the faint labor in his voice, forcing him to move with his wound.
“I’m hungry.”
“Good call. Me too.”
They hadn’t eaten in days, and it was the only thing on her mind right now, turning her mood even more volatile.
Kyleer said, “Wouldn’t it be quicker for you to feed on human blood?”
“Have you ever tried it yourself?”
“Absolutely not.”
“You might enjoy it.”
“It’s barbaric.”
Zaiana huffed a laugh. “Some of them enjoy it.”
“I’d much rather sample yours.”
She didn’t allow the temptation of a shiver to break at that suggestion. “Keep that fantasy to yourself.”
The kitchens were bustling, with bodies at work, preparing many dishes she assumed were for the queen’s ridiculous welcome feast. They regarded her intrusion with wariness, but she marched past them all, scanning for something that looked appealing.
“That meat looked nice,” Kyleer commented.
She let go of his chains. “Take what you like. Might be the last good meal you get for a while.”
He didn’t hesitate, but he didn’t take without asking the staff, and it was annoying how easily people warmed to him. A few of the fae even began to help him, holding his plate and filling it with anything he asked for. She watched all of them with bitterness growing in her chest. They were flirting with him.
Zaiana had picked up a piece of bread and dipped it into some sweet but spicy oil that danced over her taste buds. It was delicious, and somehow that annoyed her more. Her sight could hardly be torn from the commander. He was smiling with them. They examined his chains with sympathy. Occasionally, one of the fae around him would cast a look in her direction but quickly averted their gaze the second her dark stare was met.
She found a perch on a counter at the far end that wasn’t being used. After a few minutes, Kyleer headed toward her. She didn’t fail to notice how his bright grin for the others fell the moment he gave them his back. Not because his infectious brightness wasn’t genuine toward them—it just wasn’t within him. Zaiana also noticed the discomfort in his walk. He needed to use both his bound hands to carry the plate, and his clothing had to be grazing angrily against his stab wound.
Now she was feeling mildly guilty for that impulsive trigger.
“They said the tiny fish pie things are the best you’ll eat across the seven kingdoms,” Kyleer informed her, setting the plate beside Zaiana. “Something about wine and goats milk and the best fish you could ever hope to sample.”
She surveyed the mountain of different foods he’d gathered.
“How would they know? Valgard might have them beat, and it remains a mystery.”
Kyleer huffed, finding a bucket of water to wash the blood off his hands as best he could.
“You’re dark fae—an esteemed one at that, unless that was a lie—and you’ve never been east across the sea where your people came from?”
“I’ve never had reason to.”
He hummed curiously, drying his hands and returning. He picked up the bite-sized aforementioned irresistible fish pie and threw it into his mouth.
“Still, I would have thought you curious.”
“My curiosity doesn’t matter. I was a soldier—you know how it is. We go where we are stationed.”
His eyes lit up as he chewed, and he immediately retrieved another pie. Two of them, in fact. One he offered to Zaiana. She wanted to refuse out of nothing more than pettiness, but since she’d stabbed him, she supposed she could be a little nicer.
“You have wings. Surely you could have flown over at least once in your lifetime.”
In truth, she’d never really desired to. Zaiana ate the fish pie in one mouthful, and the flavor explosion on her tongue surprised her. She’d never been one to admire food—it was just sustenance and often short in supply for most of her years under the mountain. But for the minute it took her to chew, she thought of nothing but this simple pleasure, wondering if there would ever come days to enjoy such trivial things for longer.
She found Kyleer watching her, with a pleased smile at the corner of his mouth.
“Your face told me all,” he said.
Zaiana hopped off the counter. “You should get that wound dressed while you have the chance. I’m sure your fae admirers would gladly aid you.”
“Not one to clean up your own mess?”
“You are not my mess. You’re nothing to me.”
Those words were icy, and it wiped any kindness from his expression. Every time she was the cause of his upset, it twisted within her. Infuriating.
Zaiana made to leave. “If you’re not here when I get back in ten minutes, that wound will be the least mess I make of you.”
“I could take that in far more enticing ways.”
He didn’t see her glower since he invested his efforts into inhaling the plate of food. Zaiana left him, passing the kitchen staff and lingering her warning on them too.
Zaiana just needed a moment to breathe away from the commander. After weeks forced to be close to him, she felt his presence like a layer of skin. He was all over her even when he’d hardly touched her. The worst thing about it was, she was beginning to grow antsy that he wouldn’t be her problem anymore soon. Even though all they did was argue, she had to sever the threads of attachment that were linking between them again.