Page 1 of A Traitor Sister (Remnants of the Fallen Kingdom #2)

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MARLAK

I t takes all my strength to keep my breath steady and my expression calm as I follow my brother up the stairs, the red light of the sanctuary stones fading behind me. Everything fading behind me.

I failed. For years, I evaded my brother. And yet now, when it mattered the most, I failed.

Worst of all, I failed Astra.

Her last look at me, so full of hurt, will be scarred in my mind forever.

Will she ever forgive my desperate attempt to protect her?

Now is not the time to consume my thoughts with worry or regret, but to come up with a strategy, a plan. With my magic disabled and dark metal cuffs weighing me down, how can I overcome Azur and four pixies?

A failed escape attempt will only put me—and her—in even more danger. Plus, there’s a glimmer of hope in my chest, a hope that perhaps I’ll be taken to the very place I seek—and yet even that hope is poisoned with worry about Astra.

Outside, the stone guarding the entrance has been shattered to pieces. Disrespect and destruction—so typical of my brother.

Brother.

What a strange word to describe what we are and what we’re not. What we’ll never be.

A round flying carriage lies amidst several broken trees, surrounded by pixies who’ll strain their wings to carry us. Neither Renel nor his lackey cares one bit about them. How convenient, when they benefit from their mistreatment.

As we approach the carriage, my brother opens its door then turns to me, his forehead creased in thought.

“How does it feel? To be overpowered?” His voice carries only mild curiosity, as if he were wondering what we were having for dinner.

I chuckle and raise an eyebrow. “You tell me. Aren’t you the expert?”

He looks away as if avoiding the question. “Indeed. I guess you’re getting a small taste of my reality.” He then turns to Azur. “The Desert Keep. Can you take us there?”

No. No. I was hoping they’d take me to a tower. The tower .

At least I catch myself before I show any reaction.

Azur blinks. “I thought?—”

“The Desert Keep,” Renel repeats. Lack of magic or not, he’s quite comfortable wielding authority.

The blond fae glances at us both. “Sure.” His blue eyes then settle on me. “Don’t you dare try anything.”

My brother is entering the carriage when I smirk at his personal guard, bootlicker, and likely cocksucker. “Scared?”

“No.” The smirk he returns is ominous. “But you should be.”

Scared? Nah. Of course not. I’m terrified, that’s what I am.

They have Astra without any deal to keep her safe, without any promise that she won’t be harmed. They have all the cards while I’m here, hoping for a blast of luck.

My chuckle comes out wrong, but I doubt they’ll notice it. “Ooooh. I’m shaking.”

“In.” Azur gestures to the carriage.

I take one last look at the forest around us, one look at the pixies. Could I find a way out? I could slit Azur’s throat, punch Renel, and then… Then face four enchanted pixies. My chances are minimal.

That’s when I feel Azur’s hot breath in my ear. “Try anything and I’ll slice your wife into pieces.”

His words hit me harder than a kick to my gut. Still, I roll my eyes and keep my voice monotone. “Why do you think I care?”

“Why do you think it’s all about you? Maybe I’ll enjoy making her scream.”

An ember awakens inside me, but I smother my anguish under a mask of defiance. “Poor you. Is that the only way you can get a woman to react?”

He exhales, his eyes glinting with malice, his lips curled in a smug smile. “You tell me. Aren’t you the one who had to force a girl to marry you?”

For once I’m grateful for the heavy cuffs. Without them, I would have punched his pompous face.

“Enough,” Renel’s voice comes from inside. “Let’s go.”

I enter the carriage in silence, resigned to my fate. If Azur’s goal was to keep me docile, his threat accomplished it.

Renel sits across from me, the Shadow Ring glinting on his finger—and blocking my magic. Could I snatch the artifact off his hand? Nonsense. I gave the ring away, and to take it now would be theft—and pointless.

The ring would never serve me. I wonder what deal my brother made with the human king, how the artifact found its way into his possession. Useless wondering. As if tracing back where things went wrong could somehow fix them.

Two pixies enter the carriage and sit on either side of me, I guess as an extra precaution to keep me from fighting.

Only two pixies remain outside, and right as I wonder how they’ll lift us all, the energy in the carriage shifts. It’s subtle, but I feel it—a strangely familiar current of magic, but with an intensity I’ve never experienced before.

Next to Renel, Azur has his eyes closed. Is he doing what I think he’s doing?

My magic is gone, but I still feel as if icicles were forming around me. This can’t be possible. And yet, Renel told him to take us to the Desert Keep.

I couldn’t have guessed he meant it so literally.

Few fae can transcend the in-between through faerie circles. I’m lucky that both Nelsin and Ferer can. Transcending from any place is a much rarer ability. Even then, almost none of those fae can carry someone else with them. I’ve only seen Crisine do it. Crisine, a queen’s daughter from the second most powerful court, with all the extra magic her royal blood gives her.

To transcend a carriage with four people in it—that’s something out of legend.

Unless I’m wrong. I hope I’m wrong, and Azur isn’t that powerful. Why does hope have to be so unrealistic?

Outside, the forest is fading along with my hope, replaced by darkness. Across from me, my brother has a placid expression. Does he realize the magnitude of the magic he’s witnessing?

Every muscle in my body stiffens, as if unable to grasp this reality, as if wanting to shrink away and escape it. And there’s no escape as darkness sets in and a strange hum reverberates throughout the carriage.

I only breathe again when light comes through the window once more. Across from me, Azur still has his eyes closed, while Renel’s expression hasn’t changed. I guess witnessing unreal feats of magic is just part of a normal day for him.

Renel’s eyes meet mine, and I suppose my expression gives me away, because he chuckles then asks in a mocking tone, “Never transcended, Marlak?”

“A few times. This one was a lot bumpier, though.” I won’t give him the pleasure of verbally acknowledging his knight’s feat. I point at the blond fae with my chin. “Tell your servant he needs to work on his magic.”

Azur opens his eyes and glares at me, while my brother laughs. I’m not sure why he’s so amused. Can’t he see how vulnerable his lack of magic makes him? Of course, they likely have some kind of deal.

Deals, deals, deals. That’s the currency of the fae. Keeping some of us safe, some of us shackled. And yet deals can be broken. Not only that, now I can call upon the Sundering Dagger to cut them—when the time is right.

For years, I searched for the right opus stones to activate the artifact, when in fact all I needed was a powerful Tiurian—Astra. She activated the dagger without even knowing what she was doing. Astra. Her name is a dagger in my heart.

A pixie opens the door and hot, dry air greets me. I step out onto stiff, arid ground. Sparse bushy vegetation is all I see, other than a humongous stone wall with a copper gate. So this is the Desert Keep. And we’re in the Shadow Lands.

This is no longer Crystal Court territory—or even fae territory, for that matter. This is the dangerous, uncivilized north, where monsters roam free. I’ve traveled here before, looking for the tower, but never risked staying past sunset. I never even knew our court had a prison here, and it has to be a prison, if this is where they’re bringing me.

The metal gate screeches when it opens, as if in agonizing pain.

No.

The pain is all mine, entering a fortress from which I don’t know how to escape, while the people I love are so far away.

Inside the walls, small buildings surround a courtyard. When I look back at the gate, I’m stunned. A giant is pulling the chains. A giant. Of course I’m aware that there are giants in the Shadow Lands, but it’s still impressive to see one of them, let alone one working for the Crystal Court.

I notice then his glassy eyes. An enchanted giant, likely bound to my brother’s service. Why would the giants allow one of their own to be enslaved like this, in a land where they have more power than the fae? I don’t even know what to think anymore—not that I’m capable of much thinking right now. Anguish and rationality don’t mix, which only means I need to push my worry away.

I’ll need my head more than ever if I want a chance to escape.

Run. Run now. Before they lock you up .

Great. Now I’m getting stupid ideas. I can only try to do something once my brother—and his dreadful ring—are far away. And I can only do something once I’m sure Astra is safe and far from his reach. Quite a pickle, when I’m isolated here. Perhaps I don’t have an answer, but I’m sure that trying to escape right now isn’t it. Now, if only my mind would shut up and stop coming up with ludicrous suggestions, that would help.

My brother walks to a large metal door and opens it. Inside, a fae man with purple skin and empty eyes stands abruptly, then bows. Behind him, there’s a hallway with a row of cells with metal bars, all empty. My new lovely abode, by the looks of it.

“You’ll have a new prisoner.” Renel’s voice is dry as he addresses the fae. “He’ll take the fireproof cell.”

Fireproof? Is this some kind of attempt at dark humor?

We follow the fae to the end of the corridor, where he touches a copper handle and a door opens. A magical signature lock. Now, if this fae is enchanted, and if I still have the sundering dagger, I could try to set him free. Perhaps there is a way out.

I step inside the cell before someone pushes or orders me to move. The bed is a copper sandbox, the table and chairs are made of packed earth, and there’s a hole in the ground with an iron grate covering it. Nothing flammable indeed.

I turn to my brother. “What a dreary decoration.”

A corner of his mouth lifts. “I hope you enjoy your time here.” He turns to Azur. “Unshackle him.”

The blond fae hesitates for a moment, staring at me. His lips part, as if he’s about to say something, but then he approaches me quickly and releases the lock keeping the armbands together. The dark metal cuffs still weigh me down, though, and I think they’ll be my companions for the time being.

Azur then steps out of the cell, and it feels so slow. Such long seconds when I could push him and try to run. A short eternity when foolish ideas take hold, when I forget the giant out there. A short eternity of ignoring Azur’s extraordinary magic.

When the door clicks shut again, I exhale in relief. Now I can try to come up with a real escape plan instead of entertaining such illogical nonsense.

Renel stares at me from between bars, his eyes holding a new darkness. Maybe they always had it—I just couldn’t see it.

“Leave us,” he says.

The guard walks away, leaving Azur facing me defiantly, while my brother looks pensive.

Renel turns to his knight. “You too,” he mutters.

Azur glares at me. Me. What do I have to do with it?

“Not a good idea,” he says.

My brother runs his hand through his long, black hair. “I’m not asking for advice. Leave us.”

Now Azur’s glare is murderous. Just to mess with him, I flip him off.

Oh. Provoking my brother’s overpowered knight might not be the most brilliant idea. A gust of wind fills the room, then some of the sand from the box moves up and hits my face before falling on the floor.

Azur approaches the bars. “Remember what we have in our possession.”

I roll my eyes. He turns and retreats in slow steps, as if reluctant to leave or hoping to hear some of my brother’s words.

The sound of the door closing is muffled and distant, perhaps because of the stone walls, and yet I still notice Azur slammed it shut. Quite a temperamental knight. A super powerful, temperamental knight. Just great.

My brother runs his hands over his tunic, as if to straighten it, and stares at me. A curious, detached stare, as if he were watching our sister and I practicing magic. But this time, satisfaction, not yearning, gleams in his eyes. I can tell he’s delighted to have me as his prisoner and plotting all the ways in which he’ll torment me.

And I realize then, that it’s just us. After so many years, we’re alone again.

Twelve years, and the rotten taste of betrayal still hasn’t left my mouth.

Twelve years, and somewhere inside me, the little boy who trusted his brother hasn’t stopped crying.

What tainted deal will he offer me this time?

TARLIA

W e’re still in fae lands, our carriage moving slowly towards the River of Tears. I had never thought I’d see this side of the continent; this magical, lush land of colorful plants and unique forests. I had never imagined that I would witness a fae coronation, that I would drink strange drinks and eat strange foods at a party where guests undress, kiss, and make love with no shame or fear. Being here is like a vivid, colorful dream.

A dream about to end.

Ziven looks out the window, his arms crossed, his face resting on the palm of his delicate hand. By now I have memorized the map formed by his bluish, thin veins, memorized the shape of his short, square nails, memorized the way his fingers move through his light brown hair. So many trivial details that I want to commit to my memory, engrave in my consciousness, keep with me forever.

This was also something I never expected: to spend so much time with Ziven. Ziven, the drunken prince who never noticed me before we planned to come here.

We’ve been traveling together for three days, practically alone. Our retinue consists of only two guards, doubling as coachmen, and sitting outside. It means that for three days I’ve been in a tiny, enclosed space with Prince Ziven, sitting so close to him that I can see the texture of his skin, and sometimes even the streaks of gold and green in his light brown eyes.

But those amazing eyes are focused elsewhere now. Far away, as if not truly looking out the window.

His index finger touches his lips. Those lips. I wish I were that finger.

I’ve tried to deny my feelings, lie to myself, but while I might be able to control my thoughts, I can’t control my body. Such a ravenous body.

All I have are my wishes, my own desires, while he looks outside, ignoring me. All I can do is look at him as if I was staring at the moon. Unattainable. He’s a prince. I’m practically a slave.

Perhaps he would take me to his bed if I asked. And perhaps he’d laugh at me, tell me I’m pathetic.

Even if he said yes, it would be a dangerous game, as it wouldn’t be my body, but my heart at stake. Foolish heart, beating like a maniac, obsessed with a prince who’ll never see me as his equal.

And yet I can’t help it. I see his finger parting his lips and imagine it parting something else, something warm and wet and hungry. The obsession has taken over me, but at least admitting it means I don’t need to spare any effort in fighting it. Why fight feelings I can’t control?

The truth is that I want my nipples against his lips, his fingers inside me. I want to taste his skin, feel his weight against mine, feel his hair tickling my breasts. I can’t calm the intense heat in my lower belly. Even his soft voice makes me wet. And yet.

He doesn’t see me that way.

And then, despite everything, I thought we had something, some kind of friendship, at least. We planned this trip together, spent such pleasant moments in the castle. We talked, joked, had fun, but now…

“You’re silent,” I blurt.

Still staring at the window, he drawls, “What a brilliant observation.”

“I guess I’m stupid now.”

At least he finally turns to me. “Is that what you gleaned? Perhaps your wit is indeed leaving you.”

“Don’t be obtuse. Since the coronation, you’ve been…” Strange? Distant? Cold? “Moody.”

He leans back in the seat and closes his eyes. “All that dancing, you know?”

At least he’s talking to me, and I don’t want him to stop, so I try to lighten the mood and laugh. “Dancing on their table, dropping all their drinks, then destroying a chair. You caused quite a scene.”

His chuckle should be warm, but it sounds like nails on ice. “I have a reputation to uphold, after all.”

I snort. “I thought they would banish or punish us. Nope. They love you.”

“Love.” An odd chuckle. “Do you always misuse that word?”

“No.” What’s he getting at? “I just mean that you could be…” If I suggest he could have any power, he’ll deny it. Sometimes it’s as if he thinks even the air has ears, ready to label him a traitor. “A good emissary. Loyal to your king, of course. Someone who could help Krastel have good relations with the fae. They’re loose and playful. You’d fit right in.”

“Who knows?” He shrugs, then turns back to the window.

I can’t stand his attitude. “You’ve been avoiding me,” I finally say. “Since last night.”

“Impossible to avoid you when we have to travel together.”

“Is it an ordeal? To travel with me?”

His eyes finally settle on me. “No. But we need to be alert. Have you wondered why King Leonius agreed to our trip so quickly?”

I almost mention that it’s because Master Otavio suggested it, but it wasn’t quite like that. That means…

My breath stills. “You think this is a trap?”

Technically, Ziven’s the true heir to the Krastel throne, so it would make sense for King Leonius to get rid of him.

Ziven swallows. “Every time I travel, I wonder if it’s when they’ll finally kill me, then blame it on some robbers or my own foolishness. This is no different.” He lowers his voice. “I’ll always be a threat to my uncle and cousins. Every day, I wonder if it’s my last.”

“You should live like it’s your last day, then.” I almost want to make a bold suggestion involving some skin-to-skin contact, but his coldness keeps the crazy idea from forming into words.

“Don’t I?”

His laughter seems fake. Who can truly laugh at their own possible demise?

I try to think. “They wouldn’t do it in fae territory. Too risky, to commit a crime in foreign lands.”

“True. I guess I’ll spare my worry until we cross the river.” His voice is still dry, almost as if he’s angry, and it’s not the possibility of an assassination attempt that’s bothering him.

I decide to be more direct. “You’re upset. I know we came all the way here to help Astra.” The knot in my stomach tightens, still convinced of Ziven’s infatuation with her. “Now, it seems she’s happy with her husband and doesn’t need help, and I know you were hoping?—”

“Tarlia.” He raises a hand, showing me his palm. “Please. I used to think you were the most brilliant person I know—but I’m changing my mind. I’ve already told you I’m not interested in Astra.”

My chest feels an odd warmth. The most brilliant? I ignore my mind telling me I misheard him and try to get back to the point. “So why did you come?—”

“The same reason as you. Because she’s our friend. I thought you cared about her.”

“I do.”

He tsks. “You don’t. If you cared about her, you wouldn’t assume I had an ulterior motive to come here. You’d just think it was normal to want to check that your friend is well. And that’s not what you’re thinking.”

“Oh. What am I thinking?”

He leans on his hand again, his fingers now touching his chin. “That I’m in love with Astra. I’m not. Have never been.”

“That’s not an ulterior motive! It would mean you care about her. Just like I care.”

“Do you?” His hazel eyes look like glass, and he frowns in a way I’ve never seen him do before. “Or did you come here in the hopes of attracting a certain fae king ? Is that all you care about? Power?”

He’s going to blame me for a conversation he shouldn’t have heard? I was talking to Astra, sure we were alone, telling her I thought Otavio would ask me to seduce King Renel. Maybe I was playful about it. Maybe I said it as if it was something exciting. Regardless, it was for Astra’s ears only.

“Don’t you dare judge me.” A lump forms in my throat. “You have no idea what it’s like to be an orphan forced into this disgusting job, having to pretend to be someone else, having to be ready to marry someone if they tell me to. It’s not like I can walk away and survive, Ziven.”

“Oh, yes.” His eye roll feels like a punch. “Such torment. You sounded absolutely devastated that you might have to marry a king.”

“It’s my job!”

“But you want it. You want to marry him.”

“How does someone like me get out of that tower? It’s either getting married or serving Otavio forever. Being killed. Who knows? Getting married would be my escape.”

“You’re in fae territory. Do you think they’ll come after you if you run?”

“Run where? It’s not that simple. Why don’t you run, instead of fearing murder every day of your life?”

“I considered escaping, I did.” His chuckle sounds sad. “It sounded very romantic. I’d start a new life in a fae court. They like allies, deals, royal blood, so I thought maybe…”

“Why didn’t you escape?”

“My plan wasn’t to escape alone.” Obviously. He was hoping he’d rescue Astra, just like I thought. He sighs. “For now, I just want to get you safely to Krastel.”

“Had you escaped, I would be making this journey on my own. Not sure why you’re worried now.”

He stares at me, his eyes narrowed as if they had a meaning I should comprehend.

“What?” I ask.

“Forget what I just said.” He throws his hands up in the air. “Everything. And you’re the stupidest person I know.”

“Wow. You don’t know a lot of people. Do I always have to get a prize? Can’t I be the second most stupid? The third most brilliant?”

He shakes his head. “No.”

“I’m flattered. What about the prettiest? I’m sure I’m the tenth, twentieth, or one hundredth. Or ugliest?”

“First place for both.”

“Shouldn’t you think the girl you wanted to escape with was the prettiest?”

He blinks. “Don’t I?”

If I mull over his words or try to glimpse any meaning, I’ll go insane. “Isn’t it Astra? You thought you’d save her, and?—”

“Why would I want to escape with a married woman?”

“Because we thought she was forced into that marriage. You know that. And now you’re not making any sense.”

He turns to the window. “Obviously not. I’m a fickle drunk, Tarlia.”

“You know you aren’t.”

“Do I?”

“Ziven, tell me what’s wrong. Yell at me if you’re upset. Don’t leave me here…” Why is the lump in my throat becoming liquid and threatening tears? “We were friends. I thought so, at least. We planned this together. I thought…” What do I even want to say? “We were getting along.”

I’m not stupid enough to think he could ever fall in love with me, and there’s an odd kind of pain in being close and apart, and yet his coldness is ripping my heart in two.

He stares at me again, or rather, glares, for some reason. “We were. You’re right. See, growing up in the castle, it’s hard. My only living family wants me dead. Everyone else is only looking out for their own interests. They see me as a means to an end, a way to gain some advantage. Perhaps it’s why I decided not to care.”

His golden eyes settle on mine, a rare raw pain there. “Then, I started talking to Sayanne. You know the story. It was all false. All lies. She likely wanted something from me.” He chuckles. “They all want something from me—when they don’t want me dead. I started to think everyone was like that: false, ambitious, incapable of caring for others. It was like they were all stones in a wall. But between stones, flowers grow. Life grows, defying everything.”

He raises an eyebrow and lowers his head. “At least it’s what I thought. You were worried about your friend. That was it. No pretense, no ulterior motive.”

“I was worried about Astra. She’s like a sister to me.”

“That may be true, sure. What is also true is that I found something beautiful in your sincere friendship. I thought you were caring, selfless. I thought you were different from everyone in the castle, I thought…” His stare is odd. “Maybe you and I could run away together.”

What? How? Those are impossible words dropping me into a precipice.

His chuckle is cold and wrong and strange. “What a silly thought. You want a king.” With that, he turns to the window again.

My mind is spinning, trying to make sense of his words, trying to undo them, trying to find the part where I misunderstood everything.

But if I didn’t…

A metallic, bitter taste stains my tongue, constricts my throat. The air in the carriage crushes me with its heaviness. No.

I’m the one crushing myself with my foolishness.