Page 15 of A Traitor Sister (Remnants of the Fallen Kingdom #2)

15

TARLIA

L idiane’s absence is a heavy weight dragging me down. With Azur!

That blond guardian strikes me as shifty—or worse. It’s possible that he’s just interested in her, but even that can be dangerous when there’s such a power imbalance between them. Looking back, I should have insisted, should have fought harder for her to stay, but I’m not sure how to overcome Lidiane’s stubbornness or even how to defy Renel’s guardian. I hate being so powerless.

The door slams open and I turn, expecting to see Lidiane, expecting some terrible news, but it’s just Otavio, staring at me with an eyebrow raised. He closes the door slower than he opened it and approaches me.

“What was the name of the book again?”

I have absolutely no idea what he’s talking about, but I think even Astra wouldn’t be so sure. “What book?”

Otavio huffs. “Don’t play with me, Astra. The one that mentioned the castle.”

“I… don’t recall.”

“You do recall.” He waves a thick, green book in his hand. “You told me it was Tiuris, the Fallen Kingdom. There’s nothing about the Amethyst Palace here.”

And there’s no information about any of that in my mind. I bite my lip, as if thinking, then remember that Astra doesn’t do that, and stop it. “Maybe it was another edition? Or a similar name…”

“What did it say? About the castle?” There’s no desperation in his voice, and yet I can see a glint of it in his eyes.

I should be the one getting desperate, considering I won’t have any decent answer. “Well…” I blink. “I might not recall the specifics.”

“Just tell me everything you remember.”

“It’s an old castle.” It has to be, if he looked for it in a history book. “Very old.” Otavio stares at me, clearly unimpressed. I’ll have to improvise. “The book I think mentioned a prince who died there?—”

“Prince?” He frowns.

“Yes, but it was a mysterious death.” Just based on Otavio’s grimace, I guess I’m completely off. “No, wait, that was another book. Another story. I’m getting confused.” I try to think. I’ve never heard of such a palace, despite having studied all kinds of useless history, so it means that either it doesn’t exist or that it’s not registered in regular books. “Amethyst… I think I read that it was an old castle, or maybe a castle from a legend.”

Otavio grabs my arm. “Tell me what you read.”

“I don’t remember. I read some stories, some history, it gets all mixed after some time. And it’s been stressful.”

He sighs and lets go of my arm. “Try to remember.”

“Why does it matter?” I’m quite intrigued, in fact.

“History is important, Astra. Lost history is even more important.”

Lost. I can use that information. I close my eyes and hope I don’t contradict Astra too much. “I think I read about a famous castle with purple walls, which is the reason for its name. I thought it would be a beautiful castle, but then I read that it was either destroyed or forgotten, as if the people writing the history weren’t sure about it.”

“That’s it?”

“It wasn’t much.”

He waves the book again. “And you read this book?”

If Astra said so, I’m guessing I’ll have to say yes , right? “There was a Tiurian history book in the hut, but I didn’t read it much, only looked at some pages. It might have been a different edition—or a completely different book.”

He throws the green tome on the bed. “Read it, then. It’s a one-sided account, written by the fae. Still, if you look at the gaps in their narrative, you might gleam some truth about Tiuris.”

That’s Astra’s real heritage. I still can’t believe she’s Tiurian, and I don’t know how she feels about it. I hesitate between displaying joy, excitement, or sadness, then decide to simply pretend to be a dutiful pupil. “I’ll read it. Thank you.” I lower my head.

Astra always carried a sort of quiet resignation—or was it fear? I can’t imagine what it must have been to have such a secret in Otavio’s hands.

He stares at me. Stares for too long. I don’t even know if my glamour is still working well, without Lidiane here.

“The time with that villain changed you, Astra.”

Indeed. It changed her much more than he realizes, but I’ll obviously never say that. I smile. “My hope is that the experience has made me stronger.”

“You don’t need to be strong. You need to be smart. Snatch that king’s heart.”

He raises an eyebrow and gives me a look that seems to imply or else .

The threat hangs between us, a threat that Astra would also recognize. I always thought he treated her better than us, but it’s not exactly true, if he made sure she was always afraid of having her identity exposed. Sometimes her devotion to Otavio and overbearing obedience got to my nerves, and yet now I understand the root of it: fear.

“Don’t worry,” I say. “The fae king will bow at my feet in no time.”

Would Astra sound this confident? No matter. The sweet smile I give Otavio seems to appease him.

Meanwhile, I imagine my hands around my master’s throat cutting his airflow until his life fades away.

I’ll have my revenge—one day. Either by treachery, poison, dagger, or my hands. And I won’t even feel bad for killing Astra’s beloved master, now that I can see the invisible chains he used to keep her docile.

I hate this man.

And he’s still here, staring at me, examining me. I can see him calculating, thinking, making a decision. Did he realize I’m an impostor? I’ll just deny it. I don’t think he would deem me capable of infiltrating the castle or that Astra would have somewhere to run to, and still his stare peeves me.

To my relief, someone knocks on the door, ending my torment—at least for now. Otavio opens it and greets a guard standing outside.

“His Highness requests her presence in his lunch hall.” The guard points at me. “When she’s ready, of course.”

I get up, eager to get away from my captor. “Well, I’m ready.”

“No,” Otavio says, then turns to the guard. “Wait outside.” He closes the door and stares at me. “I need to prepare you.”

Even one more second in this room is too much for me, and I look fine with the frilly, overly complicated dress he made me wear. I also have three daggers attached to my thighs. I know they’re useless against magic, but they make me feel safe.

What does Otavio want to do? More pointless things to my hair, certainly.

“It’s better to go like this,” I say. “As if I don’t care what he thinks, don’t need to get ready. I took all the seduction classes, and you weren’t there. Why don’t you trust the skills you made sure I acquired?”

He sighs. “I won’t tolerate any mistakes. But for now, I’ll trust you and see how it goes.”

“Thanks.”

“Astra,” he says. “I must warn you; keep your legs closed.”

Disgusting creep. I jump with my feet together. “Like this? You think it will look attractive if I do this instead of walking?”

“You know what I mean. Wait until you gain his trust.”

His words make me want to ride the fae king’s cock this very morning, just to spite Otavio. Still, I smile. “You’ll have to trust my skills, master.”

He pauses, then narrows his eyes. “Never saw you displaying any.”

To be fair, I wouldn’t believe Astra capable of voluntarily seducing anyone either, but Otavio’s barb is unfair.

I smirk. “I made a fae prince venture into human lands to marry me. Do you still think I’m incompetent?”

He rolls his eyes. “Which was completely uncalled for and irresponsible. I still can’t believe?—”

“I only did what I had to do to save my skin when attacked.” Ziven told me about their encounter, and while I’m not sure of what happened between Astra and Marlak, this explanation makes sense. “And I’ll do what I have to do to perform my duty.”

Otavio nods, for once appeased, for once having no reply.

Funny that the moment I stopped trying to impersonate Astra was the moment I won an argument. Perhaps I should just be myself and hope the glamour is enough to trick him.

I open the door and follow the guard, curious to see the fae king, wondering what he looks like, with a faint hope that he won’t ask questions I don’t know how to answer.

The guard leads me to the hallway from where I see the main spiral stairs at the center of the castle, illuminated by the Crystal on top of the castle, its rays of light spreading like thin, silver lines. We head to another hallway, then reach a tall, wide silver door, and he gestures for me to enter.

It’s a dining room with floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking a valley. The king is looking outside, alone, and turns to me at the same time as the door closes.

I step back and catch my breath.

Fae are beautiful, I’m well aware of that, and perhaps they use their magic to look even more beautiful, to enchant and entrance us. The magic must be working, because I’m fascinated by his dark eyes, his straight nose, his thick lips. He reminds me a little of his brother, but in the same way a polished gem looks like a rough stone. And that might be his only flaw; Renel’s perhaps too polished, to the point that his perfect features make him look harsh, cold, distant. And still beautiful.

Old Tarlia would definitely want to get a taste of him before bringing him down, would want him to… The image is clear and tempting, as I imagine myself bent over that table, the king behind me—inside me. And yet it’s not a true desire, as I’m still thinking about Ziven, missing his messy hair and lazy smile, still thinking about our kiss. Why is he occupying my mind? I need to focus.

“You summoned me?” I ask.

Renel looks thoughtful, then smiles. “I invited you, and I’m glad to see you here. You look… refreshed.”

I can’t believe even he can notice the difference. I shrug. “Healthy sleep on a comfortable bed does that.”

His smile fades. “My brother… didn’t provide you?—”

“I had a bed.” I don’t think Astra would want me to disparage her husband. “I guess he thought it was decent enough, but it doesn’t compare to the beds in this castle.”

He raises an eyebrow. “Would you like… to compare what we do on the beds?”

Quite direct, this one. The suggestion would tempt old Tarlia, for sure, but I need to at least pretend to do my job. I decide to ignore the innuendo. “I just did, didn’t I? Or are you suggesting anything other than sleeping?” I manage to sound sweet and innocent.

He’s wearing a dozen or so thin silver bracelets on his arms and starts fiddling with them. “Well, you can… Read on a bed. Or sit. Stretch.”

I wonder if he’s trying to be funny and chuckle. “I shall try it, then.”

He nods, his shoulders sagging, then points to the table, where there’s a large bowl with some small bright pink fruit.

“Sleepberries. They only grow on the southern hills of the Crystal Court, before we reach the Endless Mountains. Sometimes, when I was young, my mother would take me and my—” He pauses and swallows. “My family, and we’d spend the entire morning picking and eating them. It was our meal for the day. That’s… a typical fae food. Like you asked.” He looks down.

I approach the table and pick a berry, admiring its minuscule size. “Why the name?”

His chuckle is natural and relaxed. For once, I can gleam the person beneath the king. “The villagers of the area gave it the name, and claimed that eating these berries could make you sleep forever—just so foreigners didn’t eat it.”

The idea sounds ingenious, except for one detail. “But fae can’t lie.”

“Straight up lie, no. But we can deceive, play with words.” He lifts a shoulder, a hint of playfulness in his eyes.

“I’ll keep that in mind.” I stare at my pink berry. “So I can eat this and I won’t sleep.”

“You will sleep, of course. Later, at night. You won’t fall into an endless sleep, no. Not because of the berry, at least.”

I put it in my mouth, and Renel leans forward. “Don’t!”

Too late. I’ve already bitten it.

LIDIANE

A zur holds my hand, and in a second we’re in the cell across from the one where the fae are held, the door still wide open. He pulls me to the back wall, behind him, and then I sense some strange magic around us, almost like a glamour, except that this feels different.

I move my head just enough to peek and see a tall fae with black hair entering the corridor with the cells. Two guards follow him.

The man turns to the guards. “Go back, please. I’ll be fine here.”

His voice is commanding with the authority of someone used to giving orders. From here, I can sense a current of power, magic, even if I’m so close to Azur, who’s already incredibly powerful.

In fact, Azur’s body is touching mine, pressing me back against the wall, and I can feel it trembling. He’s afraid. I don’t know why he can’t simply transcend us away, or what exactly he fears.

The man walks to the cell with the lower fae, stares at the wide-open door, and snorts. “Incompetent guards.” He enters the cell and addresses the prisoners. “Well, now, why are you standing?”

“Orders,” the lower fae mumble in unison.

The strange man chuckles, then points at one of the fae. “You. I release you.”

One of the purple-skinned fae stares at him in confusion, then steps forward, as if to attack the newcomer, but then falls to the ground, quivering and grunting.

“Silence!” The high fae yells. There is enchantment lacing his words, that horrible command that will make people do things they don’t want, that will make them exert their bodies more than they should.

The purple-skinned fae convulses. In front of me, Azur shudders.

“You,” the high fae says, pointing to a horned fae. “I’ll release your mind, but you shall not move against me.”

The poor horned man looks around, his eyes wide. “What’s happening?”

“I’m Zorwal, leader of the Crystal Court Council, and here to learn the truth of what happened.”

Zorwal. I had heard the name, but had imagined he would look older.

The fae nods, and Zorwal asks, “Who broke the walls of the desert keep?”

“Desert…” The fae closes his eyes, I assume struggling to recall what happened, then he sees his colleague on the floor, still suffering.

I’m disgusted and yet powerless.

Zorwal places a hand on the fae’s head, around his curved horns. “This should help.”

The fae winces. “It hurts.”

“It can hurt much more.” There’s no question about the menace contained in these words. “Now, what happened last night?”

“Giants,” he says between groans. “Giants broke walls, took us. We had no chance. We tried. No chance.”

Zorwal emits a sound that should be a chuckle, but sounds like a snarl. “Of course you had no chance. Who was in the keep?”

The man looks around and sees his companions. “Us. The guards.”

“Who were the prisoners in the keep?”

The fae squeezes his eyes shut, as if in pain. “I don’t remember.”

Zorwal presses his hand harder. “Break the bonds, break the bonds. And don’t scream.”

“Can’t,” the fae mutters, visibly in pain.

If they have sworn an oath not to reveal something, pulling this information will break their minds. I doubt it’s a concern for the fae questioning him.

“It’s there, in your mind. Find it,” Zorwal coos.

Azur shudders, and for some odd reason, I can sense his panic. So much panic. He then mutters, “Shit.”

A stream of air pushes Zorwal against the wall, and he hits it with a thud, blood spattering behind his head.

I shut my eyes, overcome with revulsion, but Azur holds my hand and then we are standing among the lower fae.

“Obey me,” Azur says. “Stand up and hold hands in a circle including us. Now.”

Steps echo in the hallway, while even the fae who was convulsing gets up. Zorwal’s body on the floor makes me shudder, while the steps terrify me. There’s no way this will end up well.

The lower fae close the circle while the steps approach us. Before anyone reaches us, darkness surrounds us, and I realize Azur’s transcending all of us.

All of us.

He might be the most powerful fae in the Crystal Court—or the world, apart from Marlak, maybe, but even that, I’m not so sure.

The extent of his power terrifies me, even if he’s saving me and some lower fae.

But there’s something that terrifies me much, much more. And now we’re right in the middle of it.

The ocean.

We’re on the deck of a merchant ship, no land anywhere around us, just water, the water above those dangerous depths, the water my adoptive mother always warned me never to get anywhere near.

Azur’s in front of me, and I plead with my eyes as I say, “I can’t be here.”

He raises a hand as if to mean one moment , but even one second is too much.

An arrow zips by us, reaching the middle of our circle, and I notice an archer nearby and three fae advancing in our direction with swords and daggers.

Azur raises his arms. “We’re here in peace, and you’ll forget how we got here.”

There’s enchantment in his voice, but I’m not sure how much it can do against so many at once.

“No, we won’t.” A high fae man advances at us, sword in hand. “What’s your purpose?”

“Take these travelers with you across the ocean, and I’ll pay you three hundred golden swans.”

“We have no food for them, and don’t want fugitives.”

“Fair,” Azur says, then adds, “Hold hands.”

The lower fae and I redo our circle, and I sense darkness around us again. We land on another merchant ship, this one much smaller, so small that our circle is squeezed, and I bump against the deck. This is even more terrifying, since it puts me closer to the water.

“What’s this?” A fae woman yells. She’s wearing a simple tunic and pants, and I’m not sure if she’s high fae or lower fae.

Azur raises his arms again. “We’re friends. Take these five fae to the Nowhere Lands, and we’ll pay you one hundred golden swans.”

A fae with green skin approaches us. “They’re enchanted.” He sneers at Azur. “What’s the meaning of this?”

“Innocent men escaping execution,” Azur says. He’s still glamoured to look like the constable from the Jewel City. “I can break their enchantment now, or make it happen once they reach their destination.”

The green man grimaces. “Oh, just free them already!”

“Can you take them?” Azur asks. “The money should be enough?—”

“Three hundred golden swans,” I say. I don’t like that Azur lowered his price because this is a smaller boat, and I’m hoping there will be no long negotiation. “If you don’t need it all, it can help them start a new life.” Then I turn to Azur. “I need to go .”

He nods, as if to tell me he understands—but he doesn’t. He doesn’t know.

“Five hundred,” the woman from the boat says.

Azur rolls his eyes and gives me a mild glare, then turns to the woman and man on the boat. “All I can offer is three hundred. If you don’t want it, we’ll find another boat.”

There’s something shifting in the air, in the water, and waves are getting higher, but I don’t think anyone else’s noticing what’s about to come.

“Who will take these fugitives?” The woman laughs. “Nobody.”

The boat jerks as if hitting a rock. It’s not a rock, but something much worse. My body is a pool of terror, frozen on the spot and yet yearning to run, even though there’s nowhere to go.

Nowhere. We’re trapped.

I’m so nervous that my vision is blurry and all sounds are muffled.

What a way to meet my end. What a stupid way.