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

2

ASTRA

T he bath water is tepid when I step out of it, enjoying my last precious minutes before facing Otavio, my last precious minutes in solitude.

I can still feel Marlak’s skin against mine, can still feel him inside me. Just this morning, just a mere hour or so ago, we were together. My entire body feels like a stubborn ember refusing to quench, carrying the heat of a long-gone fire. I’ll hold on to this feeling, this phantom touch that for once is not an echo of a dream, but the remnant of a wondrous reality. A reality I’ll do anything to materialize once more.

As I put on the dress my master chose for me, I consider the mask I must wear. Obedient pupil? Isn’t that what I’ve always been? But our dynamic has shifted now. Secrets have been revealed. Will he believe I’m still the same?

There’s so much I want to learn, so much I want him to tell me. At the same time, I need to find a way to save my foolish husband—without letting anyone know my intentions.

A coldness settles in my chest as I wonder what’s happening to Marlak. His brother might be torturing him at this very moment, and here I am, powerless.

But then, a lot of it is Marlak’s fault, and for that, I’m still furious. He didn’t have to stick a knife in my heart and twist it like that, didn’t have to keep me ignorant, feeling betrayed. His words were cruel, sharp, and meant to wound. He knew I’d leave him if he hurt me.

But wondering if he’s safe hurts even more. I take a deep breath, the air coming in with difficulty through my knotted throat.

My foolish husband. A bitter chuckle escapes my lips. As if I had been so much wiser.

Pointless thoughts. Dwelling on what cannot be changed will only keep me stuck in the past, and I need to look forward and find an answer, a solution, rather than looking back to figure out why we were such blundering idiots. It’s why I need a plan for Otavio, a plan for Renel.

With my master, I can still be curious. Curious and excited, ready to help him with his convoluted, bizarre plans, pretending to be unaware that he doesn’t see me as a person, but as a means to an end. What end?

A shiver runs through my back. What are his plans?

Everything is so new and confusing that I can’t even come up with a theory. Is it true that he doesn’t know my family? My heart jumps at the thought of learning who they were, learning where I come from.

Perhaps learning who killed them.

A dark cloud settles over me, and my hands tremble. Thoughts like that should be buried or they’ll sneak into my face and ruin my mask.

I have to play the silly, oblivious girl Otavio thinks he knows. What’s extraordinary is how long I’ve played this part and couldn’t see how ridiculous it was.

With a deep breath, I focus. Oblivious, curious, helpful. I open the door and step out of the bathing chamber.

Sitting by the vanity table, Otavio turns to face me, his smile turning into his signature disapproving frown. “Why did you wash your hair?”

For so much of my life, I’ve dreaded that frown. Just a frown, and the prospect of seeing it terrified me. I need to pretend I’m still that person.

I stop walking and bring a trembling hand to my head. “Why? I thought…” My voice is quivering, weak. Could have convinced me.

“Come.” He clicks his tongue and shakes his head. “I’ll comb it and put cream on it. You know the soap will damage it. Not good, right?”

“I’m sorry. That bath…”

“Was tempting, I’m sure.” He gives me a broad smile that makes his eyes sparkle. Odd. “Just be more careful next time.”

He must be in an excellent mood to let it slide like that.

I sit in front of him and stare at the largest vanity mirror I’ve ever seen, framed in delicate wood engraved with flowers, birds, and dragonflies. Behind me, my master takes a golden comb and runs it through the tips of my hair, while applying a thick cream with his other hand. It smells like orange, and while the citrusy smell is not the same as Marlak’s, it’s a painful reminder of his absence, his imprisonment.

But this smell also reminds me of my childhood, when I delighted so much in the feel of my hair being pulled softly, in the pleasant smell of Otavio’s creams and concoctions, in the belief that someone cared for me. Mistaken belief, of course, and I can’t let this scent hypnotize me into thinking otherwise.

He’s inspecting me, and at least nods in approval. “You kept your color well. But your hair is a little dull. It needs to shine, Astra. Your skin needs to glow. We’ll take care of that. You’re not looking dreary, but it’s clear you didn’t take care of your skin. You’re brown!”

It’s just a tan, and I don’t think it looks bad, but this is not the time to show any defiance. “I spent some time outside.” My voice is mild. Apologetic, even.

He shakes his head. “Be thankful I’m here to take care of you, or your skin would peel like a snake’s.” His movements then get slower. “Where were you?”

I went over this question in my mind, the question I knew I’d have to answer, so I have a lie ready to go. “It was like a little fortress, surrounded by walls, with a hut inside it.”

“So it had a roof. You could have avoided the sun.”

That’s what’s worrying him? Some obsession with my skin.

“We walked to the Court of Bees,” I explain. More like we flew over the clouds, something I’ll obviously never mention.

“Hmmm. Try to recall your trajectory as much as you can. I bet King Renel would like to find his brother’s hideout.”

Would he? “He already has Marlak. What’s the point?” It was just curiosity, but I guess it came out as defiance, which wasn’t my intention.

Otavio doesn’t seem bothered, though. Yes, his mood is excellent.

He parts my hair, then raises his eyes to me. “Information. The disgraced prince must have allies, and the Crystal Court King will want to find them. Have you seen anyone?”

“I was kept in the fortress. Alone. Saw very little.”

“And despite your mistreatment, it seems you two grew close.”

I look into the reflection of his eyes. “Wasn’t that my job?”

He combs my hair in quick, harsh strokes. “I was very clear that it wasn’t. Oh, Astra. You were never supposed to be used like that, to be given to that brute. You know that. Did it hurt?”

“What?”

“To pleasure him?”

Oh, gross. Will he want the details? I keep the disgust from my face and try to sound resigned and obedient. “I relaxed, master. Like Andrezza told me to do.”

“Good, good. Good to hear.” It doesn’t sound like he cares one way or another. “You’re safe now, and that’s what matters. And you’ll need to be absolutely enchanting. We can’t make any mistakes.”

“We won’t.” I smile as if I felt proud to be important, proud to be included.

It’s not hard to pull that feeling from my memories. Not even memories; wishes. I spent my childhood wanting to matter, wanting to be important, while being cast aside in favor of my sisters.

I understand now that they were the distraction, something horrific in its own right. And still, understanding that it was all part of a greater plan doesn’t ease the pain of feeling like I was never enough. I can’t linger on those feelings, but I can still tap into that old yearning to be appreciated.

He keeps combing my hair, even though it’s already untangled, keeps combing as if he was doing it because he liked it, and gives me a smile so broad that I can see the front row of his perfect white teeth. “I know.”

I should be jubilant with that demonstration of trust, so I try to bring that feeling to my face as I look at the reflection of his eyes. For a second, I see fatherly love there. But it’s not love, is it? It’s joy in reacquiring his tool for his oh-so-important plan. A plan he’ll never fully share with me.

Still, I need to take advantage of his mood and try to pry some answers from him. There are thousands of questions I want to ask about my kind, my magic, my family. I know he said my records were burned, but it could have been another lie to protect me. But it’s better to start with something easier—and more pressing.

“Will you teach me about my magic?”

“You’re human, Astra. Don’t be silly.” He chuckles but narrows his eyes, as if in a warning. I guess he’s afraid we could be overheard, which means I won’t learn anything from him while here.

Fine. Let’s play silly, if that’s what he wants. I manage a laugh that sounds playful and relaxed. “What? You mean being in a fae castle won’t grant me any magic?”

He shakes his head. “This castle moves, and probably listens.” There’s a not-so-subtle emphasis on the last part. “But alas, doesn’t gift any magic.”

“Has it moved? Since you came here?” I keep my voice curious and excited, even though I wish we could talk about my magic and my origins. That said, I can’t deny that this castle is quite intriguing, so the curiosity is genuine.

He’s still combing my perfectly disentangled hair as if his fingers were enchanted. “It seems to do that only once or twice a year. I’ve been visiting for a few weeks and haven’t had the pleasure to witness it moving.”

Visiting. So he’s been going back and forth to Krastel. I need to take note of even unimportant details that could shed light on his plans and perhaps tell me more about Renel—and Marlak.

A pool of pain stirs in my chest, but I wave it away and hide it behind a smile. “Moving or not, it’s an incredible castle.”

Behind me, Otavio nods in agreement. “The most majestic, no doubt.”

No. There is another castle, more impressive and magical than this one. A place I’ve only seen in dreams.

Funny how I just realized that it wasn’t only Marlak that plagued my dreams. There was a castle too. “What about the Amethyst Palace? Do you know?—”

I was going to say anything about it , but Otavio’s trembling hand and the sound of the comb hitting the floor stops me.

He chuckles but the corners of his lips are tight. “Where did you hear about it?”

“I…” I never planned any false story for this and could never have guessed that the mention of a palace would disturb my master this much. “A book, I think?”

He crouches to pick up the comb, then stares at me, all the joy in his face gone. “What book?”

I ignore his accusing tone and pretend to think. “Marlak brought some books to distract me. Stories, legends. Some history. I think one of them mentioned it. I’m not sure.”

“You need to remember, Astra. Isn’t your job to pay attention to details?”

“Of course. Let me recall.” I frown, as if in thought. In reality, I’m obviously thinking. He’ll want the name of the book—and I need to tell him something or he’ll realize I’m hiding things from him. “It was a history book, about Tiurians. Tiuris, the Fallen Kingdom.” I’m not sure if that book mentions the palace, but this is my best bet. “ I didn’t read it much, didn’t trust it, since it’s written by the fae.” I read nothing of it, in fact, and now I want to bury myself in regret.

Otavio’s lips form a line, while his eyes are no longer focused on me. “They’re probably mixing in some legend, then. That’s what it is.” He shrugs, his face calm again, even if the smile is completely gone. “Why did you ask about it?”

I look up as if trying to recall something. “I think the story mentioned that it was lost or something.” Indeed, in my dreams, it seemed abandoned. “I was wondering if a castle could get lost. Since we’re in a moving castle and all…” His stare prickles my insides, but I ignore the discomfort and chuckle. “Nonsense, of course.”

He places the comb on the dressing table with a loud thud and gives me a clearly fake smile. “We won’t get lost, Astra, so don’t worry about it. Worry about being beautiful, compelling, enchanting. That’s what you need to do.”

At least I can pretend better than him, as the mirror tells me my smile looks genuine. “I know. You can trust me.”

He nods, but it’s a rigid, odd nod. There’s a feeling there that I’ve never seen before. Fear? That makes no sense. Worry? Distrust? I’m not sure.

What I do know is that Otavio has heard of the Amethyst Palace, and it rattled him enough to make him drop his comb.

I used to think that castle was part of my dreams, a concoction of my mind. But Marlak exists. Why wouldn’t the Amethyst Palace exist as well?

But why did it discompose Otavio?

He’s fiddling with a cosmetics bag now, while I’m fiddling with my thoughts. One thing has become clear; I can’t trust him to give me the answers I need. Perhaps it’s for the best, and means I’ll have to find my own, free of his manipulation.

Free. I swallow the bitter chuckle coming to my lips. Will I ever be free?

And how will I find these answers?

Will I ever learn anything about the Amethyst Palace? My origins?

But there’s a bigger question taking hold of all the air in my lungs: how will I save Marlak?

My heart is a boiling cauldron ready to explode.

MARLAK

I t feels strange to face my brother from behind bars.

Maybe we’ve always had something standing between us—except that I didn’t see it when it mattered the most. At least this time, there’s no deceit.

He’s not the same teenager who betrayed me. Taller and with harsher features, he can pass for a king. A sham king.

A liar and a fraudster—who has Astra. This humongous little detail is a clamp around my throat, its weight heavier than the dark manacles on my wrists.

He stares at me, his eyes cold and distant. “You still hate me.”

What an incredible discovery.

“Hate? Why would I? You’re so kind to me.” I point to the sandbox. “Give me such comfortable quarters.”

He rubs his hands and stares at them. “You aren’t na?ve enough to assume that this is the most uncomfortable you can get, are you?” He raises his eyes to me. The threat is clear, even if his voice is soft.

I sigh. “Are you going to tell me what you want? Or are you going to keep stating platitudes?”

“Platitudes.” He huffs. “Tell me, do you care for the girl? Your wife?” He asks it as if it was only mild curiosity, not a punch to the gut.

At least I was fully prepared for that question, so prepared that I don’t even flinch. Instead, I frown. “Wife? Since when does the Crystal Court recognize human weddings?”

“You’re going to tell me you abide by our court rules, Marlak?”

“I’m just saying I’m not married.”

“And you don’t care for her.”

I shrug. “She was useful.”

“What relic did she activate? What did she do?” His question means he was listening to our conversation, as I suspected.

“What difference does it make?”

“Did she succeed? Does she have Tiurian magic?”

I was not expecting this question, and I can’t imagine what he plans to do with this information. But then, if he has plans for her, at least it means he won’t kill her. “How can I know? I’m here. Never had time to test anything.”

His chest moves up and down slowly. “I can grant you freedom.”

Right. Here comes the tainted deal. “In exchange for what?”

“You’ll crown me king and leave this continent, never to return. You’ll cross the ocean and go to the Nowhere Lands, where you can grow old and happy, with nobody after you.”

For a fraction of a second, the idea tempts me. I could see myself away from the Crystal Court, away from this struggle, away from these painful memories. But then, I wouldn’t want to leave on my own, and if I ask him to bring anyone with me, he’ll know my weaknesses.

I smirk. “I have a better proposal. Hear me out because this is good. You free me and don’t stop me from taking the throne. In return, you get to keep your head. Don’t you like your head?”

He runs a hand through his hair. “You can’t harm me, Marlak. Or take the throne. Our deal is clear. Why do you delude yourself otherwise?”

“Deals can be broken.” I approach the bars and raise my fist. “And I’m sure these manacles count as harm.”

“So ungrateful. Unlike me, there’s a line of fae who want you dead. You should be glad I found you first.”

I roll my eyes. “I’m delighted.”

“Think about my proposal. You don’t need to live your life on the run like a criminal. It’s your chance to start over.”

Start over. Things can’t restart, can they? The echo of our mistakes follows us like a shadow.

I smile. “Think about mine. It’s your chance to stay alive.”

Renel snorts. “Delusional.”

“I’m not the one pretending to be king.”

“I’ve heard otherwise, Marlak.” He stares me up and down, then pauses, as if debating what to say next, and exhales. “Enjoy your stay. I hope you’re more reasonable when we meet again.”

He turns and walks away.

Twelve years. I’ve dreaded and yet secretly hoped to meet my brother many times, and now, when it happened, all I saw was a stranger clad in a wall of quips and insults. But then, my brother, the one who played and read with me, that’s a creature from my imagination, a fantasy.

No mention of what happened. No mention of his betrayal. No mention of our sister.

Our sister.

Not a day goes by when I don’t think about Mirella, and yet I have to bury all my thoughts, all my pain. Bury it all and plan.

I sit on the packed earth chair and take a deep breath. I need to escape, but first I need to get Astra out of Renel’s grasp. Astra, who must hate me now. Well, I hate myself for what happened, for the cruel words I said in my desperation to hide my love for her.

Perhaps there’s a chance we can still bond in hatred—if there’s even any chance for us. The manacles feel heavier than ever, weighing me down.

Still, I refuse to waste time doubting whether I can save anyone. My time is better spent coming up with a way to do it.

Something shifts in the air.

No.

Inside me. A spark of magic.

My senses, which had been blunted, are awakening, perceiving the surrounding environment. I feel connected to the air in the cell. So much air around me. And so little water.

But I have magic again. That’s a start.

TARLIA

A m I hallucinating? I can’t hear anything other than the pounding of my heart echoing in my head. A buzz numbs my senses.

“Did you…” I swallow and gather all my courage. How can a question be so scary? “Consider escaping? With me?”

He turns to me, and his fake smile becomes a concerned frown. I must look scary—or pathetic. Pathetic, most likely.

“Forget what I said, Tarlia. It doesn’t matter.” His voice is gentle, at least.

“Is it true?” Speaking through the lump in my throat is hard and my voice comes out high-pitched—and desperate.

“Forget it.” I think he shakes his head, but I’m not sure. My vision is too blurry.

“You’re asking me to do the impossible.” I feel tears on my cheeks, tears on my face. Stupid tears. “You can’t casually say that you once thought about running away with me and ask me to forget it. You never mentioned it! Never discussed it!”

“I wasn’t sure if you’d want to escape. After hearing that you want to marry the fae king, I know you have better plans for your future.”

“If I knew running away with you was a possibility, you think I wouldn’t choose it?”

He takes a deep breath and rolls his shoulders as if trying to push something away. “You say it now.” His voice is low, careful. “It was just a foolish thought, likely impossible, highly nonsensical. I should never have mentioned it. Forget it.”

What can I even reply? Can I bare my heart for him? My chest is hot and cold, empty and full. “I can’t. There’s not a single day that I don’t think about you, don’t dream about kissing you. But I thought it was impossible.”

He raises a finger. “A wise thought.”

“So it was a lie? You were playing with me? Do you hate me that much, to humiliate me, mock my feelings?”

“I wanted to get to know you better. Understand who you are.” He shrugs. “I did. So forget it. Perhaps for a crazy moment, I became interested in the person I thought you were. But that person doesn’t exist.”

“I am that person. I care about my friends.”

He stares at me and takes a deep breath. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have mentioned my past intentions, my fleeting thoughts. I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

“You won’t forgive me for something I said in private, when you weren’t supposed to be listening?”

I think he’s eying me with pity. “There’s nothing to forgive. You’re just not the person I thought. I can’t change how I feel.”

“I am that person, and I can prove it to you.”

“My feelings changed.”

I snap my fingers. “Like that?”

“They weren’t profound. It was just a maybe, a possibility. And perhaps it’s for the best. Who knows if we’d ever find any belonging in fae lands.”

Amidst the buzzing in my head and the beating of my heart, I decide I have nothing left to lose and say the scariest words I’ve ever told anyone. “I love you.”

He closes his eyes and shakes his head. “Yes, I can see how beautifully that would work out once you married your fae king.”

I swallow, but it tastes more bitter than dandelion leaves. “But then I wouldn’t...” My words are jumbled. “If I knew…”

“Wait.” He raises a hand and looks out the window. “We stopped.”

It’s true. Plus, there are too many trees around us, and it doesn’t look like we’re on the road anymore.

Ziven opens the door. “I’ll go check. Stay here.”

“No.” I slide to his side of the seat and jump out of the carriage before he has time to stop me.

He flashes me a glare, then walks to the front—where our two guards are gone. My stomach feels hollow and airy.

“It’s a trap,” I mutter. Then I hear something zinging in our direction, and yell, “Get down!”

I try to push Ziven, but we bump into each other instead—and the arrow hits his arm, embedding itself. Another zap, but from out of nowhere, a thin ice wall shields us. And I hear steps approaching us.

Ziven breaks the arrow but keeps the tip in, which is smart to avoid losing blood.

The ice wall crashes, and I see our guards accompanied by two more men. Traitors, probably trying to kill Ziven. I pull out a dagger, even though we’re outnumbered.

Ice shards fly towards our attackers. Ice.

It’s Ziven doing this magic, as if he were the most accomplished water wielder ever. The shards melt. Of course. Leo, one of our guards, also has an opus stone.

Ziven isn’t the only one with water magic here. I hate to lose a weapon, but I throw one of my daggers at the traitorous guard and it hits his chest. When he stops to look at the wound, an ice dagger slashes his throat, and he falls. Still, two attackers advance toward us, dodging ice shards, while the third one aims an arrow. A large ice shard hits his bow and breaks it.

Behind me, I hear more steps and turn. To my surprise, I see Fachin and another guard.

Fachin. I don’t know if I should be happy or relieved. He was furious when I asked him to stop coming to my room, but we used to get along before that. I meet his eyes—and find only disdain there.

He pulls a sword and smirks at me. “Step aside. Killing you is not part of our plans.” Dreadful plans, I’m sure. My chest feels cold.

Ziven is valiantly keeping the other men at bay, but I don’t think we have a chance against five.

“We’ll pay you!” I yell. “Pay more.” More than the king? Than Krastel’s princes? I don’t let my doubts get to my voice. “You can lie that you killed Prince Ziven and get extra.”

Fachin points at Ziven. “The biggest prize is for his head. We need to bring it. Step aside, or you’ll also get hurt.”

Ziven turns and throws shards at Fachin and the other man, but they protect their faces with their hands, and the shards aren’t sharp enough to hurt them. I notice then that Ziven’s sleeve is soaked with blood from the arrow wound. His arm is bleeding badly, and that might be impacting his magic.

We are surrounded, and at this point, I think they’re toying with us.

Still, I look at Fachin, trying to appeal to the person who once was my companion. “Please. Let us go. I know you’re not evil.”

Fachin shrugs. “This has nothing to do with good or evil.”

Beside me, Ziven mutters, “Forget it.”

“They’ll kill you,” I whisper.

“I’ll die fighting.”

Die is a problematic word. I’m ready to fight, not to die. But I don’t think any fighting will be enough.