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Chapter eight

Adelyna

But Adelyna respected tradition—it was her duty, even when that tradition meant tasks much less savory than waiting for undergarments.

Adelyna sat on a wooden throne placed exactly one step below her father’s in the palace hall.

The hall, known as Briar Hall, was named for the ornate painted briars and flowers that decorated the ceiling.

Inadvertently, the name could have also applied to the complex politics that took place within, as it was here that formal royal audiences were held.

Her father was speaking with an over-painted woman—some official’s wife—in hushed tones.

Planning an assignation, most like. The R?ll never missed an opportunity to do so.

Though, neither the R?ll, nor his distraction of the evening, bothered to pay attention to the man dying on the platform in front of them.

Few of the other courtiers cared either, focusing on their own trysts and amusements.

But Adelyna paid attention to the man. She was obligated to.

It was her decree that put him there.

The doomed man was tied so that his chest rested on a table.

His hands and feet were bound with ropes to four pillars.

His skin had been flayed off his back and hung off the side, limp as bloody rags.

At this moment, the red-hooded executioner was working his knife into the man’s back, sawing through each of the ribs before pulling them out with a crack.

What did the executioner think of his grisly task?

Impossible to say. As the executioner was saved from his own execution in exchange for the role, the executioner would never dare complain.

Ca’mail—the kingdom where etiquette forbid royalty to dress themselves, yet accepted men tortured and bleeding under its gilded ceilings. 54

“You don’t have to be here, Lady,” the R?ll said quietly, leaning forward to whisper in her ear. “No one would blame you.” Her father lied—she had to stay. Even if Adelyna wanted to leave, the court would judge her if she did. A R?ll couldn’t have a weak stomach.

And Adelyna was not weak.

Adelyna did not look away as the executioner moved down to another set of ribs, sending a new round of sickening cracks through the hall, barely audible over the courtiers’ chatter.

A fresh wave of blood splashed over the white broadcloth placed under the condemned man.

Thankfully, the man had long-ago stopped screaming—he passed out from the pain after the first rib shattered.

But they would wake him up with smelling salts before the end.

They always did. It wouldn’t be a finale if the star slept through the end of the show.

“Thank you, Lord, but I’m staying,” Adelyna said. “Treason or not, I gave the order. I’m going to see it through.”

The conversation lapsed for two heartbeats, until the R?ll said, “I’m pleased to see it. You have done well. Considering.”

Adelyna stiffened. “I always do what needs to be done,” she said, loud enough for a few courtiers to hear—and repeat later.

What was he talking about this time? The fact that she was the first female Kor’yitz in four generations?

55 That she had done everything possible to be the heir Ca’mail needed?

Or was it that she was the first Kor’yitz not to have the sight?

56 Or was her father— ruler — indeed watching for the first excuse to name her younger brother heir, as the gossips said?

There was no reason to think he was, for despite the favor the R?ll showed Aherin, Aherin made no secret of the fact that he had no interest in ruling—it took away from his pleasures.

But only a fool ignored gossip. And no inheritance in Ca’mail was set in stone.

The R?ll murmured in agreement, which was barely audible over the sound of yet another of the condemned man’s ribs breaking.

“Have you thought about what we spoke about?” the R?ll asked.

Adelyna could only imagine the courtiers’ ears perking up at his words, like a pack of bloodhounds on gossip’s scent.

“Of course. I’m not getting married.”

“You’re beyond due.”

“Still far younger than you were.” Adelyna was twenty-four, a spinster in royal years.

Her father smirked. “I could order you to.”

“Yes.” Adelyna smirked. “And you also want my spouse to stay alive for more than a week.” Adelyna had decided long ago—she wasn’t going to share her power.

With anyone. When it came time, she would name one of her brother’s children as heirs and leave it at that.

Granted, that would probably set off a succession dispute, but that was tomorrow’s problem.

Luckily, her father hadn’t pushed the matter overmuch, but whether it was from amusement of watching what Adelyna would do, or some other reason, she couldn’t tell.

57 Surely, he mentioned this now, with witnesses, for a reason.

The R?ll chuckled. “Yes. But a land at war is not easy for anyone to manage. Do you really want to handle it alone?”

“The war will be long over by the time I need to worry about that.”

“Will it?”

“Yes.” She turned and gave her father a smile. “You will be ruling for a long time.”

The R?ll ignored her platitude. “You and I both know that our kingdom is never at peace for long.”

“Decades is a long time. I can handle it, Lord. And I will,” Adelyna said firmly, using the formal title for her own parent as court etiquette demanded. At Adelyna’s tone, her father let the matter drop, seemingly content to let his words stew.

War. Over and over she had witnessed the five kingdoms fight and call truces in turn, pulled by some force that the superstitious called fate, the skeptical called a coincidence, and certain Gift Bearers, who were familiar with the magic, called a curse.

58 Just when all five kingdoms would all be near peace, the fighting would start up between two or three, and then cease for some kingdoms, sometimes for years, sometimes for decades.

An endless cycle of war. One thing was certain—there hadn’t been a time in centuries, maybe a millennium, since all the five kingdoms had been at peace at once.

A border dispute here, a murdered noble there, and any tenuous truce would end like a candle flame in a storm.

Ca’mail had been lucky for most of her life—they had been at peace for the last fifteen years while the other kingdoms had various skirmishes amongst themselves.

Until now, when Cerdoran threatened to invade Ca’mail and reclaim a disputed piece of land. Adelyna didn’t care much about the cause of war—she cared only about the consequences.

The noise in the crowd swelled. Adelyna crossed her legs and smoothed out her skirts just as the executioner held a bowl under the condemned man’s nose, which was full of noxious smelling salts.

Within moments he started awake and looked around, confused.

And then the man froze as another executioner draped his own lungs over his shoulders.

59 The man’s mouth opened in agony, but no sound emerged, at least, none that carried over the crowd.

The condemned man would stay like that, feeling his own warm organs pulsating and drying on his skin, until he died—in minutes or hours, as fate decided.

Adelyna swallowed. When it was her turn to rule, how was she going to try to keep her countrymen from meeting a similar fate at Cerdoran’s hands?

The other rulers wouldn’t stop fighting. Seemingly couldn’t. But when Adelyna came into power, she didn’t care what supposed curse made them fight. She’d be the one to break it.

Once the grisly task of overseeing the execution was over, Adelyna strode back to her rooms, her train of attendants and courtiers trailing in her wake.

The gold-and-crystal-laden halls were oppressing, their grandness obscured from the mass of the crowd.

If only the trappings of royalty didn’t require so many bodies. The palace would smell better, for one.

A rustle in the crowd announced a new arrival.

Her younger brother, Aherin, strode toward her, leading his own entourage so that his admirers and hers clashed like waves on the shore.

A long purple velvet waistcoat trimmed with gold braiding graced his broad shoulders, while the snug matching breeches he wore hinted at his muscular frame.

Was Aherin at the execution? Probably. He never missed what he considered entertainment.

Adelyna stifled a frown. If he was there, why wasn’t he sitting with the rest of his family?

Then again, when did Aherin ever do what he was supposed to?

A perfect royal, Aherin bowed and said, “Greetings, Your Ascendance,” before rising to reveal his beaming face. Her radiant brother. Some would’ve called him handsome, a perfect specimen of poise, muscle, and style. Adelyna called him a lazy fool.

Adelyna nodded at his greeting and then resumed walking, motioning him to join her. “Yitz’mal Aherin. How are you, Your Blessedness?”

Aherin smirked and matched her steps. “Grim today, are we?”

“Executions tend to do that.”

Aherin adjusted a sleeve cuff. “You’re too grim in general, Lady. Court is meant to be enjoyed. ”

“Some of us have concerns beyond pleasure.” Adelyna paused to maneuver her complicated skirts that had bunched together—damn this season’s styles. “And what are you talking about? I enjoy the court.”

“For around four hours every night.” Aherin began counting with his fingers. “That leaves, oh, twenty hours you could use to enjoy yourself.”

Adelyna laughed. “I wish that was an option.”

“It is. You work far too hard, Lady. Sure, it might make you a competent ruler at some point or what not, but it’s making you prematurely grim. And aged.”

Typical Aherin—finding frivolity in everything. The perk of being the younger brother and not the heir. The courtiers watched the exchange with rapt attention, though for these siblings, Aherin teasing her was practically a court ritual of its own.

“I take it that you didn’t come here just to mock me,” Adelyna said.

“No, sadly.” Out of the corner of her eye, Adelyna watched Maribelle, one of her High Maids, shoo away courtiers that came too close, likely guessing that her mistress needed a semblance of privacy.

“Well? What is it?”

Aherin stifled a little cough. “I was wondering if you could convince the Highest to appoint more Sight Bearers to my household.”

Adelyna stopped and eyed the courtiers, who were watching every word even if they were too far away to hear clearly.

Unfortunately, they included the Jelian ambassador—and the topic of Sight Bearers was not a conversation for foreigners.

Or courtiers. Damn Aherin—talking yet again without concern as to the audience.

“Why?” she asked softly. “What do you need them for?”

“We’re not all you, Adelyna,” Aherin said, now that they were somewhat alone, “some of us have to use our kingdom’s magic.” Adelyna cocked her head. Was he trying to insult her, or was he stupid? Odds were, Aherin didn’t mean what he said. He rarely did. So, stupid it was.

“Why would I embrace what is cursed?”

“Cursed is debatable.” Aherin smirked. “And I wouldn’t say that—the Dahlk are listening.

” Ah yes, the religion devoted to worshipping the Living Gods and honoring their gifts.

Thankfully, true adherents were rare at court—and easily ignored.

Courtiers knew the nature of magic better than those superstitious fools.

But many commoners were believers, and thus the Dahlk needed to be contended with.

Besides, it only helped the crown to have subjects who believed it ruled by divine right.

“You do know,” Aherin added, “that your reluctance to retain Sight Bearers for your household is making you look bitter. Why keep me from adding to mine?”

She clenched her skirts. Hard. Yet another damn reminder from Aherin that she lacked the sight.

When it came time for her to rule, it was going to be hard enough to have the populace accept her when her own brother mentioned her lack in public.

Repeatedly. But this wasn’t the time to correct him.

“Why would I pay for household members I don’t need?

” Adelyna asked. “And why do you need more Sight Bearers? Don’t you have four? ”

“Frithian has six.”

“So?”

“He’s a bastard. Why should he have more than me?”

“Frithian has been writing treatises on the other planes to the point he’s rarely at court.

He has a reason for so many. Don’t tell me you’re going to start demon binding or some foolish task.

” Demon binding itself wasn’t necessarily foolish—much like wielding an ax, any stupidity was in the wielder.

“No.” Aherin shuddered. “I leave that to those more experienced than me—or more desperate.” Now he was trying to act intelligent?

Aherin was lucky she liked him. Hells, she practically raised him.

“Please, Adelyna,” he whined, to a point it was almost pathetic for his twenty years of age.

“It’s insulting. I’m the R?ll’s oldest son, and his only legitimate one.

And here I am, given less than a bastard. ”

Adelyna paused for a moment. “They say you use your gift and Sight Bearers solely to find succubi.”

“Better that than risking bastards of my own, right?” Aherin smirked. 60

Adelyna rolled her eyes.

“Please.”

“Fine. I’ll speak to the Highest.” Adelyna didn’t specify what she was going to say to their father. “But I can’t promise anything.”

A smile burst out on Aherin’s face. “I know, Adelyna. Thank you. You’re going to make a wonderful R?ll.”

Adelyna smiled. “Lead with that, next time.”

She motioned, and their attendants flanked them once more as the two siblings went on their separate ways. Luckily for Aherin, his biggest concern was what he was going to have for dinner.

If only that was the extent of Adelyna’s worries.