Page 35 of A Kingdom of Sand and Ice (Kingdom of Gods #2)

Prince Sorin always speaks of his land with such passion.

It makes my toes curl with longing to visit the kingdom made of light, where the skies are painted with the feathers of its phoenixes.

They say that at night, the darkness is softened by sparks from the birds, leaving trails of stars so every phoenixian can find their way home.

Tabitha Wysteria

‘Agari,’ Hessa commanded sharply.

Alina’s brow furrowed as a bead of sweat slipped into her right eye, stinging like ash, yet she didn’t dare lift a hand to wipe it away.

She stood perched on the edge of the balcony, a trembling statue of discipline, her hands outstretched, tomes in each palm.

Her left leg remained suspended mid-air, her right foot rooted like the last leaf clinging to a dying branch.

They had spent the last week training in silence and sweat, awaiting the return of the phoenixian king and queen, but time was running dry. Hessa could not delay her journey home any longer. Her people needed their princess. So Princess Mareena would be left to deliver the news to her parents.

Two heavy tomes tumbled from Alina’s right hand, landing with dull thuds, and she staggered forward. Hessa clicked her tongue in irritation .

‘Agari,’ Hessa repeated, tone flat as the desert sun.

‘No. Not again.’ Alina collapsed onto the balcony’s edge, breathless. ‘I’ll faint if I do any more.’

Hessa merely shrugged. ‘We leave tonight.’

The door creaked open and in walked Mareena, radiant as ever, her smile gilded in sunlight. Hessa gave Alina one of her signature wicked smiles, the kind that heralded impending mischief, and slipped away into the palace corridors.

‘She’s utterly uncontrollable,’ Alina sighed, longing for a bath and a moment’s reprieve.

‘I rather adore that about her. Don’t you?’ Mareena's gown was sheer and white, clinging to her body like mist. Alina averted her gaze, tongue briefly darting out to wet her lips.

‘I do love the view,’ Alina muttered, pivoting to peer over the balcony once more.

The phoenixian city glittered beneath her like a mosaic—palm trees shading winding streets, phoenixes diving gracefully through the skies, wings catching the light as they landed on balconies and outstretched arms. Their cries were sharp and melodic, echoing the voices of their people.

‘I envy you,’ Mareena said softly, her cheeks flushed a dusky rose. ‘To be leaving. I’ve always dreamt of seeing the Desert Kingdom.’

Alina offered a wistful smile. ‘I spent my whole life longing to leave. Now I’d give anything to go back.’ She turned away, the gleaming city no longer a balm to her grief. What remained of her homeland? Had it been swallowed by war? Burnt by hatred?

‘I’m sorry,’ Mareena whispered, her voice a fragile reed in the wind. ‘I wasn’t thinking. I didn’t mean—’

‘Don’t apologise.’ Alina shook her head. The fault was not Mareena’s. She watched the princess drift back inside, her every movement fluid, feline, beautiful in ways Alina couldn’t describe. In comparison, Alina often felt like a misdrawn sketch.

‘I’m sorry you won’t be here for Zahian’s funeral,’ Mareena said gently.

They had delayed their departure in hopes of attending the ceremony, but the phoenixian royals had not returned. Hessa had her own mourning to do. Her sister’s rites would be held in the desert sands, far from here.

Alina remained by the column, arms folded across her stomach, too unsure of herself to sit beside Mareena.

In the past week, she had learnt new forms of combat.

Her muscles still ached from the drills but she didn’t see the strength Hessa claimed was beginning to show.

Years of drakonian modesty had taught her to fear the sight of her own reflection.

‘We shall have a feast tonight, in your honour,’ Mareena said, smiling brightly.

‘Please… let it just be the three of us,’ Alina replied, heart tight with unease.

‘Of course,’ Mareena said, reading her without question. ‘Just us three.’

Alina longed to say more, so much more, but words felt foolish in Mareena’s presence. She merely nodded.

‘Until tonight, then.’ Mareena rose and walked away, each step a study in grace and quiet seduction.

Alina turned back towards the balcony, her tawny eyes drifting over the endless sprawl of desert, a golden sea kissed by the sun’s fading warmth. The wind whispered against her skin, but it carried no comfort, only silence, and the ever-present ache that lived just beneath her ribs.

As she did nearly every waking moment, she wondered what Hagan was doing. If her name ever crossed his thoughts. If he ever felt the echo of her rage building across the sands. Did he worry? Did he lie awake knowing that the girl he’d broken was forging herself anew, a blade honed in fury?

At the thought, a smile curved her lips, cold and sharp.

She would bleed, and she would suffer. She would train until her bones ached and her breath turned to fire.

All for one singular, perfect moment. The moment she found him.

The moment she shattered him piece by piece, as he had once done to her heart.

And when that moment came, when the vengeance was carved into the earth with her blood-soaked hands, then perhaps, Alina would remember how to breathe again.

…

‘Do you think Mareena will give you a parting kiss?’

Alina’s sharp inhale cut through the hush of the unlit room.

The night wrapped around them like a velvet cloak, shadows clinging to the corners where no candle dared flicker.

Hessa crawled across the vast bed that had been gifted to Alina, the same bed they had come to share.

Since fleeing the land of dragons, Alina had not slept a single night alone.

Every time her eyes fluttered closed, purple ones haunted the darkness.

And though Hessa had been granted a room of her own, she had never once set foot in it.

If the servants had noticed, they said nothing.

‘Hessa!’ Alina’s eyes flew wide open, scandal and disbelief painted across her face. ‘Don’t say such foolish things.’

Hessa settled herself onto Alina’s back, the drakonian princess sprawled across the bed on her stomach, hair wild and untamed, eyes staring into some distant corner of thought.

‘Foolish? And why is it foolish?’

‘Because you’re being utterly ridiculous, as always.’

‘Oh, amira, I’m just teasing,’ Hessa grinned into the gloom.

‘ It is so easy to make a drakonian uncomfortable.’ She began to rub gentle circles along Alina’s back, as she did every night after training.

At first, the touch had been unbearable, shocking even, to feel someone’s hands against her bare skin.

But Hessa had explained that in the Desert Kingdom, touch between friends was a mark of affection and respect, not impropriety.

Alina marvelled at how different their worlds were: in the Kingdom of Fire, physical contact was scandalous, whispered about behind closed doors.

In the desert, it was a quiet, sacred language.

‘Ma nama Alina,’ Alina said, shifting the topic clumsily. ‘Kaafran sandhii.’

‘Kaafrin, not kaafran,’ Hessa corrected gently. ‘Kaafrin means I am studying. Kaafran means I have studied.’

Alina groaned in frustration. ‘Kaafrin sandhii dua dunaa.’

‘Dunaa means years, amira. You mean samana, weeks. Dua samana.’

‘I never imagined it would be so difficult,’ Alina muttered.

‘You’re doing good,’ Hessa assured her, kneading into a knot of tension so tightly wound that Alina could only growl in response. ‘Once we reach the Desert Kingdom, your tongue will learn quicker.’

‘Everyone will laugh at me.’

‘No one will laugh,’ Hessa promised. ‘In my homeland, we admire those who wish to learn. They’ll respect you, amira. I respect you.’

Alina’s lips curled, her cheeks tinged a deeper red. It was a strange but welcome warmth, this quiet admiration. Especially from someone as radiant, as bold and boundless, as Hessa.

‘We should change, or we’ll be late for dinner with Mareena,’ Hessa said, rolling gracefully off the bed like a cat stretching in the sun.

‘Wait, teach me one more thing,’ Alina replied, lifting herself onto her elbows. ‘Something I can revise tonight as we travel.’

There was a lightness in her voice now that hadn’t existed weeks ago, a brightness slowly kindling in her chest. It was peculiar, how hope could bloom in the cracks left by tragedy.

Her family had been slaughtered. Her horns shorn.

Her kingdom lost to ash and silence. And yet…

she was learning to wield a blade. To trust her instincts.

To find kinship in souls she’d once overlooked.

She could no longer imagine her days without Hessa’s presence, fierce and radiant, at her side.

‘Very well, amira.’ Hessa perched beside her once more, taking her hand in hers.

Alina no longer flinched at the touch. She had grown used to the desert princess's way of showing affection, warm and uninhibited. They slept tangled together each night, bathed side by side, shared stories and skin as though such intimacy was the most natural thing in the world. Hessa would press idle kisses to Alina’s shoulder blades, trail her fingers across her spine in thought.

It was, in the desert, a language of love.

Not romantic, but sacred. A testament to closeness.

And yet, Alina couldn’t help but feel she was beginning to crave it more than she ought to.

‘Waa kair janta,’ Hessa said gently, her face now so close Alina could smell the sweet sharpness of mint leaves Hessa chewed to keep her breath fresh. ‘Agari. Repeat.’

‘Waa kair janta,’ Alina mumbled, the words a little clumsy on her tongue.

Hessa giggled softly, cupping Alina’s cheeks and giving them a playful squeeze. ‘Close your mouth more, like this. Agari. Waa kair janta. ’

Alina tensed beneath the touch, her gaze shifting to Hessa’s lips for a fleeting moment. She quickly looked away.

‘What does it mean?’ she asked, breathlessly.

‘In the Sandhii tongue,’ Hessa replied, her voice quieter now, as if the meaning of the phrase belonged only to them, ‘we have no words for I love you. So instead, we say waa kair janta... It means, to fall together.’

Alina said nothing. She simply nodded and let herself collapse back onto the bed, limbs heavy, heart heavier still. She whispered the words beneath her breath, again and again softly, like a spell. Her palm found its way to her chest, fingers pressing against the ache she didn’t know how to name.

She didn’t want to admit it aloud. Not yet. Not even to herself.

Her mind still lingered on Kai Blackburn, on the easy banter they had shared, the way she had felt seen, beautiful, wanted.

But that version of herself… that girl belonged to another life.

A life she wasn’t certain she would ever find again.

She didn’t know where Kai was now. Or if he still lived at all.

The world had changed.

And so had she.

‘Are you coming, amira?’ Hessa called from across the room, already changed into something flowing and elegant. She gestured for Alina to rise and ready herself for the feast.

Alina smiled softly, almost to herself, and nodded. A quiet sigh of something like joy escaped her lips as she stood.

Waa kair janta.

We fall together.