Page 22 of Legacy of the Heirs (The Lost Kingdom Saga #2)

Elisara

E lisara swilled the wine around her goblet.

It was her third that evening after determining alcohol was the only way through this, a decision that merely served to heighten her emotions as she reflected on how this night could have been hers.

Caellum twirled Sadira around the dancefloor and trailed his hands down her bare back, whispering in her ear; she blushed and giggled at his words.

Watching their smiles, Elisara wondered if her smile would have been the same or if a small part of her had always known that life would never be enough: shipped to a different realm for marriage, a political tool to unite the realms. Elisara gulped the remnants of her wine and signalled for another goblet.

Elisara had thought she loved Caellum, though perhaps she merely loved the idea of being in love, especially as their relationship was all she had ever known.

“ A love that lights your soul on fire ,” Kazaar had said on the Unsanctioned Isle.

She was uncertain what that looked like, yet felt the fire burn within her at every one of Kazaar’s glances from where he leaned against the wall, pretending to survey the room.

A henna-covered hand appeared in her vision, and Nyzaia’s gold bracelets rattled as she placed her goblet beside Elisara’s. She scraped a chair back and sat beside her.

“I could do with something drastically stronger. Couldn’t you?” Nyzaia asked. Elisara chuckled and leaned back, crossing her leg over the other. She picked up her glass.

“It’s like you read my mind.”

“To a complicated love life.” Nyzaia clinked her goblet against Elisara’s before downing her wine.

“There is nothing complicated about my love life,” Elisara scoffed. Nyzaia rested her head on her palm and angled her chin to face Elisara.

“Oh, is that so? Are we not at the engagement ball of your previously betrothed while your commander, who is definitely falling for you, stares at you from across the room? Nyzaia raised her eyebrow.

“Point taken,” Elisara grumbled. Nevertheless, she did not believe Kazaar was falling for her; their bond was merely that of a shared destiny.

“If we are cheering to our complicated love lives, what is wrong with you and Tajana?” Elisara put her goblet down and shook her head at a servant who moved to refill it.

She did not trust her emotions should she have another.

Elisara scanned the room for Tajana and found the captain leaning against the wall in a similar fashion to Kazaar, intently glancing between Soren and Sadira on the opposite sides of the hall.

While Sadira danced joyfully in Caellum’s embrace, in a way Elisara struggled to believe was a ruse, Soren sat at the far end of the royal table, glaring around the room.

“Should Tajana not be watching you?” Elisara asked.

Nyzaia shook her head and locked eyes on Tajana.

“I asked her to watch Soren and Sadira. I do not trust them, mostly Soren. When we met in Nerida, she said something that made me question if she had stepped foot in Keres before and perhaps had a hand in instigating the explosion. My father had to find out about the prophecy somehow.”

“So, what is the complication?” Elisara asked. Nyzaia swirled the liquid in her goblet before glancing away.

“I had her followed,” she said finally. Elisara uncrossed her legs and leaned forward.

“Nyzaia!” she hissed. “What on earth for?”

The Keres queen inclined forward until their heads almost touched.

“She was acting strange,” Nyzaia whispered. “ I cannot place it, but she keeps disappearing. Farid followed her yesterday in Khami, and she crossed into Garridon.”

“Perhaps she was scouting ahead.” Elisara reached forward to rest a hand on Nyzaia’s arm, who recoiled as her sleeve rode upward. Elisara seized her wrist.

“Did she do this to you?” Elisara gasped, running her finger over the burn marks on her wrist. Nyzaia pushed back from Elisara.

“No, it was not her. It was an accident,” she mumbled, and Elisara suppressed the urge to reach for her friend again.

“My queen, could I speak with you?”

Elisara turned to the deep voice behind her and peered up at one of Nyzaia’s guards.

Farid. Despite Elisara’s protests, Nyzaia rose, and soon, the pair were in deep conversation.

Elisara scanned the room again, looking for Soren and Sadira.

Sadira now stood conversing with Larelle and Lord Alvan, though Soren was nowhere to be seen.

Elisara avoided Kazaar’s eye yet sensed him watching.

A smirk appeared in her mind. He knew she was avoiding him.

Continuing to do so, Elisara focused on her friends and smiled as Helena and Vigor dragged Talia up from her chair, forcing her to dance to the high-tempo string melodies.

Vlad caught Elisara’s eye and nodded to her from the other side of the room. She raised her empty goblet to him.

“ You should join them.”

Elisara rolled her eyes, and the music changed, replaced by a slower ballad. Vigor pulled Helena into the dance, and Talia left the floor to allow the couple a moment together.

“ And who would I dance with?” she asked. Kazaar raised an eyebrow from across the hall, eliciting yet another eye-roll from Elisara.

“ You know, you could have any man in this room.”

“ Perhaps I will have any man then.” She smirked and pulled at her neckline to expose more chest. The gold admonishments glinted beneath the candlelight as the flames grew brighter.

Elisara tossed her head back to loosen her curls, mesmerised by the stars through the glass and the silver glow of the moon that matched the mark on her collarbone.

Kazaar’s image obscured the sky as he came into view, peering down at her.

His hands gripped the top of the chair as Elisara met his eyes, her head still tilted.

As his finger grazed her back through the spindles of the chair, the light in his eyes changed to a glowing white, and the shadows returned.

Elisara pushed up from her chair and strode towards the dancing couples, knowing he followed close behind. She scanned the room for a partner, someone to distract from his presence.

“Are you looking for someone?” he whispered in her ear.

“So, he does know how to use his voice.”

“I’ll agree to use my voice more often if you agree to use yours,” he said, his breath tickling her ear.

“I am using my voice now, am I not?” She ignored the pull to lean back into him.

“I like to imagine you using your voice to say other things.” His fingers brushed the inside of her palm, and Elisara pulled away at the sparks lighting between them. She glanced around to check no one had seen.

“And what kind of things are those?” she asked, and he chuckled behind her.

“Look inside my mind and find out.” Elisara cleared her throat, doing everything in her power not to seek his thoughts.

“You are preventing me from finding someone to dance with,” she hissed.

“What kind of man are you looking for? Perhaps I can help. After all, I agreed to do anything to prove myself to you.” Elisara scoffed and faced him, holding a finger up as she recounted a list of qualities.

“A talented dancer, tall, and handsome.”

“I recall proving myself to be a good dancer.”

“That’s not what I—” Elisara squeaked as Kazaar grabbed her hand and spun her onto the ballroom floor. When she twirled back into him, he locked her in a dance hold.

“I do not recall accepting your hand to dance,” she said.

“I do not see you declining, either.” He smirked, and Elisara looked away, focusing on the steps and allowing the music to guide their movements. The slow melody steered them around the floor in soft patterns, and the pair swayed delicately in time with the string instruments.

“So, you do not think I am handsome?” he asked.

“Of course not,” she said, tight-lipped. She focused on the candles as he guided her around the floor, ignoring the sensations of his hand against her back and her stomach against his abdomen.

“I could have sworn in Nerida you said I was the most handsome man in the room.” He pushed again, and Elisara ground her teeth.

“I lied. Does your ego so desperately need stroking at my hand?

“Angel, lies sound so pretty on your lips.” Kazaar spun Elisara again, and she saw a flash of Soren’s blond braids return into the hall.

“I am not lying.”

“Then, how do you explain our behaviour when you awoke in my chamber?” he asked. Elisara blushed, remembering the restraint she put in place to resist his pull.

“It is the tie. Nothing more.”

“More pretty lies,” Kazaar murmured, spinning her to the next dance partner.

Elisara immediately went rigid in the next dancer’s hold as her eye tugged on the single silver ring on his hand.

Reluctantly, she glanced up at the eyes matching a similar shade of brown to her own.

She glanced at the scar on his cheek from when they were children.

“Elisara,” Caellum said.

“Caellum,” she greeted just as awkwardly. It felt wrong in his grip, and her back felt cold beneath his hand.

“You look different.”

Her eyes finally met his. “Different? After everything, is that all you have to say to me? You look different .” Caellum opened and closed his mouth, but she ignored him and stared at her surroundings, waiting for the beat in which he would spin her back to Kazaar.

Caellum tensed and sighed, focusing on someone behind her.

When they spun, Elisara found Kazaar, his eyes on hers rather than his new partner’s.

The flames flashed white, and for a second, shadows seeped into her vision, but when she blinked, they were gone.

Caellum spun Elisara again, and she collided with Kazaar’s chest, an image flashing in her mind.

A blur of black. She could not make it out.

Her head shot up to look at Kazaar, who frowned.

“Did you see that?” he asked. Elisara nodded as they continued dancing, with Kazaar pulling her closer. The same image of black shadows flashed in her mind.

“What is happening?” she asked. Kazaar’s hold tightened, offering comfort from the unknown.

Another image appeared, but this one was of the night skies: an expanse of darkness littered with clouds blocking the stars.

The music’s pace increased, and Elisara struggled to keep up as images invaded their minds—transparent glass, a glow, blurred movements—it was so quick, she could not make out its significance.

As the song drew to an end, Elisara panted, standing in the hall’s centre with Kazaar.

Couples separated, laughing between themselves, with some more intoxicated than others.

Elisara looked around the room. Vlad stood by the entryway and frowned at her expression before attempting to navigate towards them.

Larelle sat with Alvan and Zarya, eating dessert.

Nyzaia appeared to be in a heated discussion with Tajana on the stairs; Caellum swayed with Sadira in the candlelight, and Soren sat with her wolves at a table. Alone.

“Something is wrong; something feels off,” she murmured to Kazaar.

“I feel it,” he said, reaching for the pommel of his sword.

The shadows appeared again, yet they did not disappear this time; they crawled across the floor from under Kazaar and Elisara’s feet.

Under the flurry of feet, no one seemed to notice, except for Larelle, who caught Elisara’s eye as she stood and glanced at the Historian.

Black appeared in Elisara’s mind again. The night sky.

Glass. Black. The night sky. Glass. Trees. A glass room. Flowers. People.

Elisara and Kazaar looked up as he pulled a sword from his back.

“Everyone take cover!” he shouted, yanking Elisara with him as the glass ceiling shattered and rained down on them all.