Page 46 of Kingdom of the Two Moons

Melody

Riven is gone in the morning, but, again, there’s a bubble bath waiting for me, along with that cup of perfect cappuccino that refills itself as soon as I empty it.

While I steam in the water, I try to ignore the tattoo on my wrist as best as I can, but I can’t shake the feeling that it’s watching me.

I scrub at it, but all that happens is that my skin flushes. I wouldn’t be surprised if, should I dare to peel my skin, it just renewed itself.

I wash my hair, then get out and head for the kitchen. No one seems to notice me. I only catch Chef occasionally glancing my way before he quickly looks away again. It’s only later that he comes up to me, catching my hands in his huge, clawed ones. He falls to a knee. Horror sweeps over me.

“No, please. Get up,” I whisper, but he just holds me there, my hands clasped in his, his massive, beautiful horns almost reaching up to my neck even when he kneels, he’s that huge.

The pearls woven in his braided strands of hair click with the movement. He takes one of them out. A black and shiny one that seems to brim with magic.

“Call me Arbor henceforth, because this is my name, and know that I am forever grateful. We do not have much, but I do have this,” he says, putting the tiny, black pearl into my hand. “Swallow it, and it will dissolve, and you will be able to grow fairy wings and fly. But beware that the spell won’t last long and that it will only work once.”

“Thank you,” I whisper, my hands closing around the pearl, but he bows only deeper.

“I would be your servant forevermore, obedient to your command, if I hadn’t sworn fealty to my king already.”

I say nothing. It would only make things worse if I told him that I saw what power does to people and that I don’t want it. I know Caryan would not be pleased if he ever heard about this. Or worse, if he saw it in someone’s blood.

So I just nod once, as if I understand.

I’m grateful when things fall into their usual order and I can go back to cutting vegetables, my mind still too adrift.

***

Later that night, when the sun is already halfway down, Nidaw orders me and the blush-haired siren—Everly—to clean Lady Sarynx Maedavel’s rooms. The blonde elf who’d been at Caryan’s side. My stomach clenches at the prospect of another encounter with her.

When we enter the rooms, the ash around the fireplace and the bucket are gone, but the rest is as messy as it was. There are clothes and fine dresses strewn around everywhere, and so is the jewelry. Bracelets and pearls and earrings scattered all over the room, negligently thrown between flacons of luxurious oils and perfumes, golden glitter and burned-down candles.

We start to gather the things, collect and arrange them, folding fallen clothes, working wordlessly side by side. I occasionally glance at Everly, at her back, wondering whether she still has scars left there from the spymaster’s whip.

“Come, tell me that I deserved worse,” the siren says suddenly, catching me looking at her.

I jerk up from where I’ve been crouching to gather up some fallen rings. “I would never. ”

Everly watches me with her huge, pale eyes before she says, “She’s my aunt, the one I wrote to, but she’s practically my mother. She raised me. I haven’t seen her for fifteen years. Since I left Palisandre. Since she sent me here to find Nidaw.”

“I’d have done the same, I think,” I say, meaning it. If I had a mother, I sure as hell would at least try to send her letters, all rules out the window.

The girl snorts, but then briefly smiles. A conspiratorial smile. “What’s your name? Melody, is it?”

“Yeah, right.”

“You saved Arbor’s life, and the three others’,” she says. “We heard. That was a kind thing to do. I’m sorry I was mean.”

I dust my hands off on my pants. “You said it was my fault, that… circumstances changed.”

She watches me curiously, her teal eyes wide. “You’re the girl from Kalleandara’s prophecy.”

“Maybe. What does it say?”

She shies away, biting her lips, the inside limned with dark-bluish skin. “You don’t know then,” she states, her eyes darting around the room, as if she’s looking for something.

I shake my head.

“I think I did you wrong, so I might tell you,” Everly eventually decides. “It says war is coming and that you might change its outcome.”

I don’t know what to say other than, “How? How would I do that?”

Again, the siren chews on her lips before she shakes her head. “We don’t know. No one really knows, that is the problem with prophecies. They stay cryptic, but we still believe in them.”

“What does it say exactly ?”

“That war is coming, and that you are the one who’s going to end the blight.”

“What’s the blight?”

Her ears twitch. “We don’t know that either. The seer didn’t say. ”

A seer. I want to ask more, but Everly’s growing restless, as if she’s already told me too much. So instead, I ask, “Why did your aunt send you here?”

“So I could have a better life. A safe one. Elves can be cruel to us. They do all sort of things to us without consequence,” Everly says, impressively lightly, finishing piling up some lacy underwear adorned with pearls and gemstones.

“And here, it is different?” I ask slightly surprised.

“Yes. The Dark Lord doesn’t allow such things. If anyone harmed us without reason, there’d be a punishment. We’re under his protection.” There is awe and admiration in her voice. I remember that Nidaw once told me a similar thing.

Everly fishes a black, lacy negligee from the heap and holds it up to her body. “You think one of the high lords would look at me if I wore this?” She playfully pouts her lips and swishes her hips, clearly imitating the owner of the negligee, before her mouth tears into a wide, genuine smile, her eyes full with wicked amusement.

For a second, I’m struck by the quick change in her mood. By the familiarity of the gesture. By the normalcy of it . This is what it must feel like to have friends. Maybe I’d one day have friends like that. Be normal, or at least be whatever normal in the fae world is.

We look at each other for a second before we both burst out laughing.

“Which high lord?” I ask as she walks over to the bed to change the sheets.

I’m glad I have my back to Everly, glad she can’t see me blushing violently when she says with a theatrical sigh, “Oh, I loooove Riven. All of us do. He’s so eloquent and good-looking and charming. But…”

“But?” I ask, biting back my smile. If he knew, he’d be even more insufferable. But then, he probably knows already.

“I don’t know, he seems to be more into curvy nymphs than stringy sirens. Unlike Kyrith, who’s also attractive.”

“Kyrith?” Now I do turn, throwing Everly an incredulous look.

The siren giggles—a silvery sound like wind bells. “Yeah, he can be so handsome and strong. You threw a dagger at him, right? That was so impressive.”

I don’t like how her eyes shimmer with admiration at that.

“What about the third?” I ask quickly.

“Oh, you mean Ronin. Sad that the witcher is not into women.” She sighs again, as if it really bothers her. “And not to mention… the Dark Lord.” She whispers the last words before she bursts out giggling again like a young girl.

I just stare at her until she asks, “What? Is he not that good a lover as they say he is?”

My heartbeat startles. They. Caryan’s whore, that’s what they called me. That’s what the blonde elf, Sarynx called me.

I ask blankly, “ Who says that?”

“All the women who’ve been with him do. They never get over him.”

I bite down hard on my lip.

Everly pushes, her teal eyes shining. “So, is he?”

“I’m not… I’m not that.”

“Oh.” Her pink eyebrows raise. “I mean, that’s curious.”

“Curious why?” I don’t know why I’m asking this. They probably all saw me that night in the throne room, kneeling over Caryan, and drew their own conclusions.

Everly shrugs. “Well, normally, the high lords... they don’t notice most of us. We’re just moments to pass their long lives.”

I nod because I don’t know what else to do before I ask quickly—to steer the conversation away from myself… but also because I’m just a tiny bit curious, “But you really… I mean… you would … with the Dark Lord?”

“Oh, of course I would. Who wouldn’t?”

“It’s just… he had you whipped, for one,” I suggest.

“Oh, that ,” the siren says, impressively unbothered. “He saved my life that day. He had to follow his own rules, yet he decided to spare me in front of his whole court of high fae. I think that’s hot.”

“But you didn’t mind the whipping?” I ask carefully. The memory of the torn flesh and Everly’s tearless sobs are branded on my mind.

But she just smiles with her small, sharp teeth. “Maybe it’s because of the whipping. I think that’s my new kink , that’s what you mortals call it, right? I heard Kyrith use that word once, or twice.”

I just stare, not sure she’s serious.

Another smile blooms on her beautiful face and she goes on, more to herself, “It’s… definitely. I know the Dark Lord’s dangerous, but so gorgeous. Have you ever seen him with his wings?”

“Uhm, no,” I lie, quickly turning back to stripping the sheets, feeling the tattoo on my wrist all too keenly.

“Uh, I want to touch them, just once. I imagine they must be incredibly fluffy. But they say the best that can happen if you touch an angel’s wings without permission is to lose your hand, so I guess it’ll remain a fantasy.” She lets out another heavy sigh. “And his eyes… I wonder what they look like when he, you know, really fucks you. They say he’s kind of a freak in bed.” Again, Everly whispers the last part as if she’s sharing a secret.

I say nothing, just trying to rein in my fluttering heartbeat.

Finally, the siren asks, “And you? Which one do you like?”

I’m done stripping the sheets and have to turn back to Everly to get the fresh ones she’s put on one of the tables. “I don’t know. I guess I never thought about it,” I say quickly, hoping dearly she doesn’t know I can lie. Hope she can’t read the lie in my face.

I change the topic before she can probe on. “Are you going to Niavara today? For Gatilla’s death?”

“No, we can’t.”

“Because the Fortress is still sealed?” I probe.

“For one. But, also, it’s eerie, the town. It’s people, they’re wild. It’s not safe for us, especially on a night like this.”

I look at Everly’s sharp teeth and wonder how dangerous the creatures there must be if it wasn’t safe for her there.

I ask, keeping my tone a little bit detached, “Have you ever been to Niavara? ”

“We go there once a month, to the markets, but only when one of the high lords is there.”

“Is there a library, by any chance?”

“A library? Why would you want one?”

“Just… I’m looking for a book. Never mind.”

Everly frowns. “No, not as far as I remem—”

The door flies open, and the beautiful blond elf, Sarynx, comes striding in.

Her beauty is so radiant it hurts. She’s never looked better in an idea of a dress—almost translucent, stars sewn on it that seem to whirl around her body, gathering only around her breasts and between her legs.

Everly bows her head and falls to a knee. I just stand there until a vicious flicker enters Sarynx’s eyes.

“You two would be long done if you’d stop chatting like agitated geese,” she says, pursing her full lips.

Everly mumbles an excuse when Sarynx passes her, walking around the room as if she’s looking for something. A vulture searching for a bone to pick. She stops in front of her dressing table where we have put all the jewelry we found.

“There’s probably something missing,” she purrs cruelly.

I see Everly flinch, shaking her head, throwing me a panicked look that says she didn’t take anything.

“You two, come over here and tell me what you took.”

“We didn’t take anything, my lady,” Everly says quietly.

Sarynx’s cold gaze snaps to me. “You, maybe not. But you, human?”

“I didn’t take anything either,” I answer sternly.

“Oh, you cunning little liar. I will have you punished. Maybe I’ll whip your new friend here,” she says, drawing her eyes over to the siren, who flinches again at the prospect. “Why flinch, little siren? I thought that was your new… kink . Or is it different if it’s not our king’s hand who administers that punishment?”

Everly’s cheeks turn as pink as her hair and she stares holes into the ground, as if they could open up and swallow her .

Sarynx strides up to her, lifting her chin with a manicured finger. “He would never make his hands dirty with you, little siren, but keep holding on to your ridiculous pining. Such a hideous pastime but fitting for dull minds like yours.”

“As is eavesdropping,” I say.

Sarynx’s head snaps to me. She bares her teeth but lets go of Everly. “Watch your tongue, or I might cut it out one day. I don’t care whether you are his latest whore, human.” She comes for me, her teeth still bared.

“Try and see how that goes,” I say with a hell of a lot more confidence than I feel. But her aura tells me she won’t attack. Not yet.

Everly’s eyes flash to me, surprised, but I’m too focused on Sarynx to care.

“Leave, siren, before I change my mind,” she drawls, her azure eyes never straying from mine.

Everly throws me one last, apologetic glance before she runs for the door.

I don’t blame her. I’m actually glad she went.

“You. Nothing but a feral girl with interesting talents. A tiny, snapping monster and a pain in the ass since you came here.”

I take a step towards her. Maybe it’s true. Maybe I am feral, because right now I want to sink my nails into her skin and draw blood.

“Maybe I am. But if Caryan still cared for you, he’d be drinking your blood. And if he was, he’d see everything you are, so maybe he’s tired of that, and that’s why you’re jealous,” I snarl right back at her.

I don’t know where the words came from, but by the look on her face they hit home. I read all of it in her aura, and guessed the rest. But I should know better than making another enemy. Yet, I’m tired. Tired of her hate. Tired of her jealousy.

Sarynx’s eyes widen, and for a second, her perfect facade falters. She hisses, “You’ll regret that.”

“I’ve long given up on regrets. So why not just get it over with right here? If you’re so keen on putting a knife into my back, why not try it now?”

For a sliver of a second, I think she will, indeed, come for me now. But she doesn’t, although fury burns stark and bright around her, like a firestorm, laced by yellowish streams of envy and ugly, grayish streaks of hate. But underneath… fear .

“You’re afraid of me,” I say, not believing it myself.

She raises her chin but doesn’t deny it.

“You’re afraid of the powers I might wield,” I continue.

Her blue-painted mouth slices to the side into the hint of a smile. “Let’s skip through the unpleasantness, shall we? You’re sharp. Sharp enough to cut yourself. Yet have you ever wondered what Caryan will make you do? Do you know how he is when he wants something? Ruthless. Merciless. His path paved by corpses. Do you think he’ll stop with you? Whatever it is you have that is of interest to him, he’ll eviscerate it. Squash you in his palm and drink up your very essence, until you’re nothing but a brittle husk. A ghost. If you stay, you’re on the road to damnation.”

I don’t let my face show anything while I watch her aura. I wish so desperately to find a lie there, but there’s none.

“If that’s so, why do you stay?”

She lets out a laugh that sounds hollow and empty. “Because I have nothing he wants from me he has not already taken. Nothing more I can give or offer him. I understand what it takes to be with him. What it gives. But you? Have you? Do you even know what he wants from you?”

My blood slows. My stomach is suddenly tight, but not from hunger.

Her smile spreads into a knowing grin. “Maybe he doesn’t know it yet, either,” she muses, looking me up and down. “But the time will come. And once he does, there’s nothing you can do. You can just beg that you’re ready to give it. And should you ever decide to bite through the leash, he’ll pull it so tight you will suffocate. Because he doesn’t tolerate disobedience in any regard, little girl.”

I swallow against the knot in my throat, the ache behind my ribs. My mouth is dry when I ask, “What should I do?”

She tilts her head and watches me with a mixture of disgust and calculation. “I don’t know. Go find that library of yours—the one you asked Everly about—because I think there’s a reason you want to do so. Call it a hunch or something else. And take it from there. Caryan’s going to be distracted all night,” she says in a sure tone.

I don’t like to think about what she’s implying. “Riven said there is no library.”

“I believe he did, Caryan’s ever-adoring minion.” She laughs coolly. “It’s true, there’s no library . But the ruins of it still stand, slightly west of the main gate. And who knows what lies buried underneath all that sand. The famous library was once known for its cavernous underground archives. Built by the silver elves, a long time ago.”

I don’t at all like the cold glint in her eyes. A vision of the sand worm claws its way into my mind, but I fight it back. “He’ll see everything once he drinks my blood. Why take that risk?”

She just shrugs her delicate shoulders, seemingly untroubled by any of it. Only her aura tells a different story. A part of her is terrified. Terrified he will find out, but she wants me gone more.

“Because we’re both doomed in our own ways, and whether I like it or not, it binds us. But I think your disappearance means as much to you as it does to me. There’ll be a horse waiting for you there, at the ruins. I’ll arrange as much. And you may want to ride north. Now, excuse me, I need to prepare for tonight.” Escape . She’s helping me to escape.

She strides away, but halts, looking back at me over her shoulder. “Oh. I remember that your mother once mentioned those ruins too. Even visited them, I think. Briefly, before she ran from Caryan and hid from him in the human world.”

Her words feel like a stab in my belly.

“She ran from him?”

“Of course she did. Why else do you think would anyone of us go to the human world? She went because of him. Accepted all the downsides it brings. The danger. Because she was terrified.”