Page 120 of A Queen’s Game (Aithyr Uprising #1)

Chapter Seventy-Eight

Valeriya

T he plan fell apart. Everything Valeriya had worked toward had begun to land into someone else’s hands. When did everything shift? How had she not known? Better yet, how had her sister not known?

Now, with Az making his name known to Elyse, the girl was in more danger, especially with her proximity to Wyltam. If he knew the truth, knew his actual name, then he could fit the pieces together. For Marietta to know as well was a damn shame. She hoped they both knew better than to say anything.

Before, Valeriya would’ve been confident that she could prevent them from getting hurt, from being targeted, but no one could know.

Her and her sister’s plan was to throttle Wyltam’s court, build a new one, and place Valeriya at its head.

That was why Chorys Dasi came to Satiros, that was what they had planned.

And now? Sylas had been clear. She and her sister were cut out of the picture.

Valeriya trembled at the center of her bedroom, hands flexing at her sides.

How could the Chorys Dasians betray them?

After they had tasked Valeriya with the dirty work of weakening Wyltam and Keyain and to steal information.

They didn’t believe in equal standing for pilinos—that was going to be the fight after she controlled Satiros. But now?

She took a sharp breath. Nastanya needed to know. Focused, she ceased her pacing, pulling to the aithyr around her. She thought of her sister’s rounded face, her large doe eyes, of her in the castle of Reyila, and formed the message wrapped in aithyr.

“Chorys Dasi is deviating—they withheld that Wyltam knew magic. Implied we were cut out. Are we being made fools?”

Through aithyr, Nastanya would have received the message instantaneously in the like of Valeriya’s voice. A few moments later, her sister replied, “Knew about Wyltam. Auryon said to stay your course. We’ll be reunited soon.”

She knew about Wyltam?

Valeriya’s breath heaved as the room tilted under her feet. Why didn’t she tell her sooner? For fuck’s sake, she lived in the same suite as him, yet no one bothered to inform her? Even Sylas knew. Why did she say that Auryon said to stay her course? Nastanya was in charge. This was her plan.

A cold dread washed through Valeriya, her chest beginning to ache. She reached out to the aithyr once more. “ Who has the ruling voice in Reyila right now? ” A sickening feeling settled in her stomach. It couldn’t be true. Not her sister.

After a few minutes with no reply, she reached out again. “ Nastanya, please. What happened? ”

There was a moment of silence, and then a new voice sounded in her head. “ My uncle and brother will finish carrying out our plan. Enjoy your remaining time in Satiros. You’ll return to Reyila after we’re done. ”

The smooth voice of Auryon sent chills through her body. Chorys Dasi took it over. They cut them out—cut Valeriya out. Now they were taking her throne away.

Part of her wanted to race to Wyltam, to his ministers, foil the plan entirely, but that wouldn’t bode well for her. She’d rather live in Reyila than rot in the dungeons of Satiros. Her hands were tied. Everything she had worked for, had fought for, came crumbling down around her.

The bedroom felt too small, too confined. Valeriya threw open the doors to the balcony and stepped out into the cloudy evening. On the horizon, black clouds churned with streaks of lightning illuminating the twisting dark.

Alone.

Valeriya was alone. Nastanya abandoned her, and now she needed help.

Like an unwanted visitor, the image of Katya crept back in. Their first kiss was on the castle’s roof as a summer thunderstorm blew through Reyila. Katya was yelling at her, and Valeriya couldn’t pull her focus from her mouth, from how beautiful and fierce she was.

That first kiss was like lightning in her chest—feeling everything and nothing all at once.

Katya was her rival, vying for a position Valeriya also wanted; yet, at that moment on the roof where Valeriya grabbed her face, kissing her with years of pent-up aggression and lust, the two became something more, something greater.

Katya was her rock, anchoring her to the world.

Without her, Valeriya remained stuck in her head. Alone.

Just message her. The rough edge of Katya’s voice would be enough to steady Valeriya, to keep her focused. Together, they could find a way out.

Valeriya imagined the short black hair hanging into the glowering face, the intensity of her turquoise eyes. She used to tuck the short strands behind the blunted arch of her half-elven ears. A notch marred her right one from an injury she would never share.

There were a thousand things that she wished to say.

Every day she thought of Katya, wondered how she was, often wanting to tell her of her day, of the things that reminded Valeriya of her.

A crumpled flower, still beautiful and standing.

The way shadows had danced across the cobblestones in the late afternoon sun.

The quiet moments in the palace halls, like the ones she and Katya would seek for a moment of peace together.

More than anything, she wished to tell her those three words they never shared out loud.

But Valeriya had felt them from Katya. It was in her mannerisms, the way she had concerned herself with Valeriya’s troubles.

The way Katya had held open doors for her.

Her words of confidence when Valeriya had felt discouraged.

The never-ending teasing when Valeriya had become lost in her head.

The words were there every morning they had laid in bed, fingers intertwined, with the morning sun creeping into the room.

Those three words existed in every interaction—unspoken but always true.

Katya held Valeriya’s heart, the one that ached every day they were separated.

Just message her.

But what if she moved on? What if she knew her sister’s plans had changed? Could Valeriya truly handle that possibility? Likely, no.

In those last days together, when Valeriya left to marry Wyltam, they agreed a clean break would promise a better future for them both; yet there Valeriya was, seven years later, with tears spilling from her eyes on the balcony of her room.

A gust whipped her long, red curls around her as the storm approached. Thick and sticky air gave way to the coolness of the storm, heavy raindrops falling. They hid her tears.

Alone. Valeriya was drowning. The plan was the last thing she had, a goal to change Satiros and rule under a new era.

A chance to be immortalized. That dream was ripped out from under her.

For all the effort Valeriya put towards helping Satiros, there was a gnawing emptiness inside her chest, replacing the hope that once bloomed there.

Everything had a price and the cost of being remembered was her very being.

Sheets of rain cascaded from the sky, soaking Valeriya within minutes, yet she stayed on the balcony, watching lightning dance across the sky. The thunder rattled her chest as she heaved a breath, gripping the railing with her hands.

She couldn’t stay.

Soon, she promised.

Katya would hear those three words from her soon.