Page 61 of Blood King, Part I (Crowns #4)

Chapter forty-seven

When he’d first arrived, Cyrus had expected to spend a day in Pryam.

It had now been a little over two weeks.

He’d stood by Miriel’s side as she announced the passing of her father, and he’d stayed by her side before the masses of the throne room as the crown was placed atop her head.

Her doe eyes were constantly on him, looking for reassurance.

He’d nod, and at times, even found himself moving closer.

She’d smile.

He liked her smile—so full of innocence. He told himself he wasn’t getting attached to this girl, but he knew he’d fight to protect that innocence.

Cyrus spent a lot of time with Amish, who he found to be a loyal and respectable man.

What was not respectable, however, was Amish’s skill with a sword.

Miriel had said Amish had been her father’s personal guard and friend.

The description of guard was generous, and Cyrus assumed him to have been more of a friend and an adviser, committed to her protection rather than actually able to keep her protected.

He’d continue to be a good supporter for Miriel, but to help Amish, Cyrus charged Bash as the princess’s personal guard and put under him a little more than a hundred men, about half the number Cyrus had brought with him.

Pryam had a royal guard, but only a mere twenty-four men.

Bash would keep Miriel safe until they established a more robust palace unit.

Cyrus assigned Kord to evaluate Pryam’s defensive resources and see what they had to work with, and to determine what else needed to be built. Kord would also stay in Pryam until they established a structure Cyrus was confident in.

Satisfied, at least for the time being, Cyrus could return to Rael.

He stood on the docks as his men prepared their ship to depart.

Three additional ships would come with them, laden with rice.

They’d be the first of many. Cyrus was grateful he’d be returning with something to offset the hundred-plus men he was leaving in Pryam, and the many more he’d committed to sending.

White flashed in the corner of his eye, and he looked to find Miriel walking toward him, her long dress billowing with the light breeze.

“I wish you didn’t have to go,” she said when she reached him.

He almost said he wished the same, but he’d be lying, so he didn’t. The truth was, he was eager to get back to Rael. But he’d also be lying if he said he hadn’t come to care about this girl. Essandra would love her. That sparked a thought.

“Miriel,” he said, “when things are settled here, and you can get away for just a little while, I’d like for you to come to Rael and spend some time with Essandra. She’d love to meet you, and I think she can help you.”

A smile lit her face. “I’d like that.”

He smiled back. “I’m glad that you wrote to me.”

Her eyes glistened. “I’m glad that you came.

” She snaked her arms around him and pulled him into a tight embrace.

Cyrus stiffened, but he didn’t stop her.

He couldn’t remember the last time someone had hugged him.

He’d held others, comforting them in their grief and their defeat.

But the last time he’d felt the affection of an embrace freely given…

He couldn’t remember, yet he remembered the feelings that came with it—warmth, care. Happiness.

A bell rang through the air, giving notice that it was time to depart.

She released him and took a small step back. “Thank you, Cyrus. For everything.”

He quickly blinked away the emotion in his eyes. “Goodbye, Miriel.” His gaze shifted to Bash, who stood behind her. “Remember your charge,” Cyrus told him.

Bash gave a small bow of his head. “I’ll keep her safe.”

Cyrus nodded. He knew he would. Giving one last look to Miriel, he turned and strode up the gangway to the deck.

Everan and the men that Cyrus was taking back with him had already boarded. Cyrus joined them on the bow, where he came to a rapid halt when he noticed four large square cages, stacked on top of one another, filled with birds.

His brow creased. “What’s this?” he asked.

“A departing gift,” Everan told him. “From the new queen of Pryam.”

He pulled the sealed note that was tied to one of the cages and opened it to find Miriel’s words.

I’d wager these will show you more than your visions. When I see you again, you will have to tell me what it’s like to fly.

Journey safely back to Rael. You take my love and friendship with you.

Miriel

Cyrus shot his gaze back to the dock where Miriel stood. She waved with a large grin on her face. He couldn’t help a smile in return. She watched as the ships were pulled through the harbor, until Cyrus lost sight of her.

Then he set his eyes on the open sea. For Rael.

Sailing into the main port of Rael brought a feeling Cyrus hadn’t expected—one of coming home.

It had only been a little less than three weeks that he’d been gone, but he found himself eager to get back.

He couldn’t deny some of that eagerness was to see Essandra again, although he doubted she’d given him more than a single thought in his absence.

He was a little worried she might not be there at all.

She’d said she’d stay until she figured out the spell to bring back her family, but he wasn’t sure if that had changed.

He also couldn’t deny the small weight of worry about what else he might be returning to.

The last time he’d left Rael, the nobles had tried to retake the capital.

While he’d trusted the council to run things in his absence, Cyrus had tasked Hephain and Brant to oversee the safety of the kingdom—Hephain to keep the capital, Brant to manage the protection of the rest. In the arena, Brant had been the lead of House Akim and a gold-tier fighter.

Men respected him, and Cyrus trusted him.

Eventually, Cyrus would probably send Brant to take Kord’s place in Pryam.

Cyrus rubbed his temples. At sea, he’d taken the opportunity to try his ability with the birds.

He’d brushed them with a smear of blood and set them to the sky.

And it had been one of the most incredible things he’d ever experienced.

Not only could he see through their eyes, but he could also somewhat control them.

He wasn’t sure if that was his own ability, or something that lingered from Essandra’s power.

Regardless, it was an asset that he was sure would prove useful.

However, it had also left him with a crippling ache his head, and he’d spent the remaining time trying to sleep off its effects.

But the rising sun found him standing at the bow of the ship as they pulled into the harbor.

His headache ebbed slightly when he saw Brant standing on the pier. Cyrus let his shoulders relax. The fact that Brant was standing alone, his sword sheathed, at least meant the kingdom wasn’t falling apart.

As he made his way down onto the dock, Brant met him with a smile. “Welcome back,” he said.

They clasped arms. “Things are well, it seems,” Cyrus said.

Brant nodded. “The nobles made another move, but Ryman stopped them before they even reached the hills. We didn’t lose anything, nor was anyone injured. I think they’re testing us.”

Cyrus pushed out an irritated breath but nodded. “Good work.” He was glad to have the Lycus House lead managing the men on the east side. Ryman was on top of things, but these nobles were proving to be a problem that likely wasn’t going to go away.

“I brought horses,” Brant said, and he led him to two waiting mounts. They took to the saddles and urged the animals toward the palace.

“Do you want me to call together the council?” Brant asked as they reached the front courtyard.

“Yes, shortly.” He needed to do something first. “Is Essandra here?”

“I don’t know. I’ve spent hardly any time here—I just came by this morning to check in with Hephain before I went to the port.”

“Assemble the council,” Cyrus said. “Tell them I’ll be there in a moment.”

Brant nodded, and Cyrus struck off for Essandra’s workroom. He silently prayed that she hadn’t left.

As he turned down her hall, relief rippled through him to see her walking toward him.

They both stopped as they reached each other.

But instead of the greeting he’d been expecting, she delivered a sharp slap across his cheek. “Where were you!” she demanded.

The force wrenched his head, but he caught himself. Confusion flooded him. “You knew I was going to Pryam—”

“For weeks ? You were supposed to be back within days . And you left without even saying anything! Anything at all!”

“I told you I was leaving!”

She turned from him and wiped her face with her hand.

He honestly hadn’t expected her to be angry. Or upset. At all. He also hadn’t expected his absence to bother her so much.

“Essandra,” he said softly. “I’m sorry. I should have sent word. I should have returned sooner. It’s just that there was a lot—”

Rapid footfalls came behind him, and he turned to see several members of his council hurrying toward them.

“King Cyrus!” Fatim called. “So glad to have you back!”

Essandra quickly wiped her face again and resumed her countenance of cold perfection.

“You were in Pryam much longer than we expected,” Verin said.

Cyrus nodded. “It was longer than I expected too.”

“And Princess Miriel—”

“Queen Miriel, now,” Cyrus corrected him.

Essandra stilled, her stare snapping to him with an expression he couldn’t read.

The councilmen erupted with clapping.

“Sire!” Verin exclaimed. “We thought there was a possibility you might come back wed, but we weren’t—”

“Excuse me,” Essandra mumbled, and slipped away down the hall.

“Essandra,” he called, “wait.” But she didn’t.

He moved to follow her—

“Let’s go to the council room,” Verin said as the councilmen surrounded him. “Tell us everything.”

Cyrus looked around for Essandra. But she was gone.

He lingered for a breath longer, then turned back toward the council.

He’d come back with an alliance…

But he couldn’t help but feel it had cost something far more valuable.