Page 31 of Legacy of the Heirs (The Lost Kingdom Saga #2)

Nyzaia

E verything reminded Nyzaia of Tajana. The twists of the awful shade of green ropes hanging from the drapes were her braid, the crackle of the fireplace mirrored Nyzaia’s response to her touch, and her syndicate’s leathers ignited memories of when they all sat at the table, playing cards.

Nyzaia sat in the middle of the canopy bed, which felt far too large and empty without her. Tucking her knees under her chin, blood seeped from her feet into the sheets, cut from the shards of glass while fighting. Elisara’s friend, Vigor, had offered to tend to her, but she refused.

“My queen,” Farid’s voice sounded distant despite standing beside the bed.

“My queen,” he repeated, though she did not answer.

She thought only of how he had defended her against the woman she loved.

“Nyzaia.” His voice was even quieter now, and she barely moved as his hand cautiously brushed her bare arm.

Slowly, she looked down at his hand before looking up at him.

Her eyes felt puffy as she met his, the pale blue of his gaze now reminding her of an icy fire that burned for her protection.

Farid offered his hand, and Nyzaia’s eyes flickered down, taking a moment to analyse the strips of scars on his palm. She had not noticed them before.

“You need to bathe,” he said in his usual matter-of-fact way.

“Are you saying I smell?” she asked. Farid’s lip twitched before returning to its usual straight line.

“Yes.”

Sighing, Nyzaia looked at his hand again and accepted it.

He pulled her up and quickly stepped back, gesturing to the bathing room adjoined to the guest chambers in Antor castle.

The wooden floor was cold, though the entire room was compared to Keres.

It was dark, too, and the wood and deep greens were suffocating.

Nyzaia stepped into the room and stared at the steaming tub in the centre. She wished it was bigger, like the pool in her chambers at home.

“I will be right outside,” Farid said.

“No, stay.” She bit her lip to keep it from quivering. She did not wish to be alone with her thoughts. Farid did not falter as he closed the door behind him, though she suspected he looked elsewhere as she began peeling off what remained of her lehenga.

The colour of the water rapidly changed as she sunk below its surface, drawing the blood and grime from her skin and leaving only the stain of heartbreak behind. She raised the temperature, hoping the water would burn every one of Tajana’s imprints on her flesh to ash.

“Was I blind?” Nyzaia asked numbly.

“No.”

Nyzaia nodded, and then a silent sob escaped her.

The water splashed against the tub as Nyzaia quickly hid the sounds of her cries in her hand; finally, she released her pain. Farid shifted on his feet.

“I do not wish to assume I can approach you, but given I am not your type—and will not be looking at your body—may I?”

Nyzaia could not help but laugh in between her sobbing. She nodded silently as Farid quietly approached the tub and knelt beside it.

“None of us were to know,” he said, looking only at her eyes.

“I should have known. I was trained to spot things like this,” she mumbled.

“And she had the same training as you; she would have known what you would look for. You were beginning to question her; if this had not happened now, I am certain you would have discovered the truth.” Nyzaia crossed her arms and sank further until the water reached her chin.

“You do not believe me,” Farid said, and Nyzaia flicked her eyes towards him. Anyone else would feel inadequate beneath his intent stare, but Nyzaia saw only his dedication—and an emotion she feared everyone would have towards her.

“Do not pity me Farid,” she grumbled, raising the temperature again. The water reached boiling point as dirt floated to the surface. Farid remained silent like he weighed each word for his queen before speaking again.

“My father would tell me to be pitied was to accept weakness and inferiority.” Farid’s words seemed familiar to Nyzaia, whose own father often told her such things.

Nyzaia did not flinch as Farid reached into the scolding water and gently grasped her hand.

“But my mother…” He looked down briefly at the stone floor before meeting Nyzaia’s eyes again.

“My mother told me to be pitied was not something to be ashamed of, for if someone feels or expresses that to you, they are acting in the most human way possible… with care .” He squeezed her hand again before pulling his arm from the water.

Nyzaia did not know whether to address the references to his family or the lack of burn marks on his arm.

The water should have scolded him, yet his golden-brown skin appeared no different.

She wanted to raise their encounter in Khami and question if his resistance to the water’s temperature was because he wielded flames.

Nyzaia opened her mouth to speak until Farid winced, as if he had expected her next question.

She remembered the many moments she had tried to include Farid and the walls he had rebuilt when she did.

Instead, she said nothing but relished in the feeling that he trusted her enough with such a small insight into his life before service.

Nyzaia’s stomach rumbled and broke the silence.

Farid’s mouth twitched again. She wondered if she would ever see him smile.

“Stone fruits?” he asked, bracing the side of the tub to push himself up.

He had clearly paid enough attention to know her favourite foods.

Nyzaia nodded. “I will leave the door open,” he said gently as Nyzaia pulled the towel from the stool beside her.

Farid’s footsteps faded, swallowed by the sound of the other men’s laughter, who played cards in the next room. You are not alone.

When Farid returned, Nyzaia had returned to her spot, sitting cross-legged with her damp hair hanging to one side of her robe.

Jabir sat perched on the bed beside her, his gangly body leaning over the large book laid out before them.

On the table in the corner, the decks of cards had been replaced with a large map, and they used the empty goblets as paperweights.

Issam hunched over it, his colossal frame covering most of Keres.

Nyzaia could just discern Garridon’s border from where she sat.

Rafik furrowed his brow as he peered down at the map beside Issam; he pushed his dark curls from his eyes, smudging ink across his forehead from where he had marked spots on the map.

Nyzaia’s syndicate did what they always did when she was troubled, though she had never experienced heartbreak like this.

They were strategizing to give her mind something else to whirl away at.

While she appreciated their efforts, it reminded her of when they usually schemed together like this, with Tajana often taking the lead and sparing glances at Nyzaia for approval.

Nyzaia thanked Farid as he passed her the bowl of stone fruits and a small dagger. She bit the slices straight from the blade and wiped the juice from her chin.

“You were never a polite eater,” Jabir murmured. She feigned an offended gasp but nudged him with her elbow, earning a smile from him as he trailed his finger under the sentence he was reading. Nyzaia sensed Farid’s awkwardness and glanced up to find him shuffling.

“Sit,” she said, patting the spot on the bed opposite Jabir. Farid opened his mouth to protest. Nyzaia knew it was to insist he was fine. “ Sit , Farid.” she repeated. Farid’s brow furrowed, and he kept his back rigid while perching on the bed with his hands on his thighs.

“Myths and Lies of Ithyion,” Nyzaia told him in between bites.

“And are they? Myths and lies?” asked Farid.

“From what I’ve read so far, they seem like stories you would tell children,” Jabir mumbled, carefully turning each page, worn with age. Nyzaia exchanged a look with Farid.

“One of them is true,” Nyzaia said, wiping her hands on her robe. “About celestial ties.” Jabir lifted his head from the book and raised his eyebrows. “That is why Kazaar and Elisara are so different lately.”

Jabir laughed.

“I cannot imagine the commander is best pleased about being tied to her. Do you remember how frustrated he was after training her group of recruits?”

Farid tilted his head at Jabir’s words.

“Sometimes frustration is used to cover true emotion and hide the truth of your greatest desires,” Farid said plainly. Jabir looked at Nyzaia, who raised her eyebrows teasingly at him, and tilted her head with a smile.

“No!” Jabir gasped. “Kazaar and the queen?” he asked, beaming. “Have they…”

“Have they what?” asked Farid.

“Oh, come on, have you seen them both?” Jabir’s attention was fully removed from the book now. “They are remarkably attractive. There is not a chance they have not slept together.”

“Jabir!” Nyzaia chastised. “This is not gossip over tea with the Courtesans!” She glanced at the table, where Issam and Rafik listened intently. “But no, they have not.”

“This sounds like a bet in the making.” Humour laced Issam’s voice.

“We are not betting on when a queen sleeps with her commander!” Nyzaia scolded.

“Three golds it is before we next see them,” said Jabir eagerly.

“Five if it happens in this castle. ”

“Ten it does not happen at all,” Farid said, and Nyzaia raised her eyebrows at him.

“I did not take you for a gambling man, Farid.”

Farid raised his shoulders in a half-hearted shrug, and Nyzaia smiled. Perhaps those walls would slowly crumble, and he would truly become a part of the syndicate.

“If you are all finished with your childish bets, can we refocus on the plan?” Nyzaia pulled the book towards her and analysed the sketch of a sword.

“What is the plan?” Farid asked as Issam and Rafik approached the bed and rolled out the map again.

“We need to find the other half of the Keres talisman.” Rafik’s large hands pointed to the Xs across their realm.

“These are the places we considered so far.” He gestured to the oasis at the edge of Ashun Desert, the vaults of Tabheri Palace, the white rock face meeting Myara’s ocean, and the thinnest walkway within Nefere Valley. None of them felt right.

“What was the purpose of hiding the other half?” Farid asked, scanning the map.

“Hiding it within the realm allegedly allows the power of Ithyion to flow through the land and provide other citizens with connection to the royal line’s power,” Issam confirmed, and Nyzaia nodded.

“It also had to have been hidden somewhere difficult to access to ensure no power-hungry royal accessed it alone and took it for themselves. We do not know what effect it might have on me once it is connected with the other half.”

The men scanned the map again, deep in discussion. Farid was quiet at her side, rubbing his beard in thought. There was something in his eyes, something that indicated he had an idea. Nyzaia nodded in encouragement, and Farid leaned forward, pointing at the map.

“It’s hidden in the rock face of the Abis Forge behind the lava flow.” The other three all looked up at him, their confusion clear .

Jabir watched Farid intently, who shifted beneath his gaze. “How can you be so certain?”

“I spent a lot of time there growing up,” Farid said plainly. “It is there.” Everyone exchanged looks, and Jabir shifted in his seat, watching Farid closely. There was something else to Farid’s story. Nyzaia recognised his usual discomfort.

“You are certain?” she asked, and he nodded. The other three men were clearly sceptical, analysing him and questioning what he knew.

“I trust him,” Nyzaia stated. “We head to the Abis Forge at sunrise.”