Page 40 of Nightingale (The Broken Kingdoms #1)

V rea steadied herself as she lowered her knuckles to her mother’s bedroom door. There was a dry pound in her chest, trapped in her ribcage as she ran over the memorised lines in her head. The ones that she’d been practising over and over again, in order to convince her mother to keep Rian alive.

To send him home.

It was unlikely, but she had to try.

It was now or never, lest Eamin wedge himself into their mother’s limited time and spin a cleverly-worded lie about how dangerous Rian was, how he needed to be put down before he could cause any harm to them, or the Kingdom.

She wasn’t a moron.

He was dangerous.

Just not to her, not to them, as he’d proven time and time again. He’d had countless opportunities to kill her, to leave her for dead. He could have stolen Amir’s sword, his knives in the courtyard and plunged them into their chests. He wouldn’t have left the capital alive, but he would have wiped out a number of the Greenvasses.

Vrea swallowed one last time, forcing every bit of confidence back into her system, every ounce of surety that she could muster. She rarely became nervous, but her mother was a mighty figure of power and command. There was always a thrill of excitement that poured off of her whenever they stood within a certain proximity. A heady intoxication that made Vrea’s head spin.

She couldn’t fall prey to that.

She was her mother, yes.

But she was their Queen first of all.

Vrea stopped stalling, knocking at last and retreating a couple inches as she waited patiently. She would wait all day, if that’s what it took. It wouldn’t come as a surprise to her if that’s what her mother did, as she’d done several times before in her youth to instill patience and a sense of importance into all her children. To understand that if something truly needed to be spoken about, then one would wait all day if required. To be the sovereign of Niroula would often mean waiting over long periods of time, regardless of station.

Teminos struggled with it, as did Eamin.

But Alpheus had shown her the way to disappear into one’s mind as they waited. To think over the events of the day, the plans for the next, or the way to better the topic at hand in order to sharpen the edges, hone it into perfection, finding the exact way to present it to their mother.

That’s where she went now.

She closed her eyes, sucked in a deep breath and let it settle into the dead center of her chest. There, she held it for three seconds, counting them inside her mind as she let the blackness seep into her head. It was a familiar feeling, a shadowy shade enveloping her as she turned over the journey.

Over the things she’d done in the past three years in order to secure her escape. Over Castil and his taunting prompts and unscheduled visits, happy that she would no longer have to deal with him. Over Rian and his wandering hands, the ones that led to her release and everything else. Over the bandits and Blacklegs that they’d faced together, the camp where he’d lost consciousness and the tender moments they’d shared.

It was those that steadied her, created the wall of determination, or stubbornness depending on who you asked, solidifying her decision to ask for Rian to leave, unharmed and untouched.

An hour passed, one which she spent in her mind.

Then the doors opened, and her mother appeared.

“Vrea,” Casta smiled warmly, but didn’t open her arms for an embrace, didn’t rush forward to place a kiss on her daughter’s cheek or pat her head. There was no show of devotion, no gentle brush of affection. Only the briefest relief that Vrea was safe, home, alive.

“My Queen,” She bowed, tucking her arm into her waist as she bent low, rising back up after the appropriate amount of time passed.

When she angled herself into the straight back position, she immediately saw the careless robe tossed over her mother’s body, the lack of anything else under it as the deep V revealed her olive skin, with the curve of her full breasts visible. Casta was still beautiful in a cruel way handed down to Vrea. Even in her older age she held an air of grace, of refined elegance that could never be tossed away.

They shared the same angle of the chin, the rounded shape of their face, a nearly identical shade of cool-brown hair and the prominent eyes that held a grey-green hue.

Many of the councilmen, court members and even her siblings commented on their likeness, on how it appeared though a master artist sketched Vrea from her mother to create a mirrored reflection. Vrea longed to age as divinely as her mother, to keep the youthful glimmer that Casta wore excellently.

But the slip of skin allowed Vrea to know precisely what, or who had kept her mother away.

“Trying to create another heir?” She interrogated with every bit of sincerity and seriousness.

“It never hurts to err on the side of caution when it comes to the matter of succession,” Casta lectured with a light smile as she opened the door even further, an invitation. “But not this time, Vrea. I’m past the age for that anyways. This one was simply for my own pleasure, and nothing more. No ulterior motives behind it.”

Vrea entered, the door swinging shut behind her. Her mother strolled over to the bed on bare feet and uttered a quiet instruction to the naked man in her bed. He rose up on his knees, uncaring about his decency and placed a long kiss on her cheek before rolling out of the satin sheets and ambling for the attached bathing chamber, where Vrea knew a large bathing pool would be.

Casta made no effort to cast her lustful gleam in her eyes away as she observed the swing of his generous backside, the divots in his hip bones, the ebony skin that glistened with sweat from sex. When there was no sign of him left other than the faint splash of water, she turned back around to face her daughter.

“You’ve come to talk about the Carylimian Prince, haven’t you?”

Vrea didn’t question it, how she knew.

The Queen knew everything, always.

“I have,” She confirmed. “I feel as though there is missing information that would help you reach an overall decision regarding his fate.”

“I’m sure that you’re well aware that your brother has already spoken on his behalf.”

“Teminos?” She refrained from letting the hopeful resonance enter. If he’d been the one to try and convince their mother toward any side, there was a good chance that it would fall upwards instead of reverse, a sign that even Teminos agreed the Prince should be spared. Even if his calculated glances and numberless opinions stated that keeping him alive wasn’t a good idea.

Casta’s look wasn’t a comforting one.

“I’m afraid not.”

Her core tensed, her breath tightened and her heart felt as though it might explode with the pressure her chest forced onto it.

“Alpheus?”

She had yet to see her eldest sibling, even with the two days she’d been home.

“Are you going to list them all off until we’ve run out of options? No, of course not. He doesn’t bother with trivial matters such as men who should not matter.” She scolded, with a warning look shot in her direction. “Eamin came to see me, only three hours prior with his thoughts on Rian.”

“I’m sure it was nothing short of an execution.”

“Something along those lines. But as I have assured him that his side of it all will be confidential, I will offer it up to you as well. Tell me what you want and it will stay between us.”

Vrea locked her gaze with her mother’s. She didn’t dare ask, instead telling her mother. That was how she’d be expected to act as Queen, that was how she acted now. Cool, calculated, controlling. A calm leader with reasonable points that scarcely left room for arguing, if any at all. Casta would find some of course, as she always did, but it was only additional lessons that Vrea would take in stride, adjust from, and emerge even more refined on the other end.

“Rian lives. Amir can escort him back through Niroula and to the border, past the camps and to his own side in Carylim as he returns to the war front. He can go home, in payment for delivering me safely, for setting me free in the first place.”

Casta stared at her, like the girl who stood in front of her was unfamiliar, was not her kin, was someone else entirely. “What has he done to you, child?”

“I don’t understand what you mean.”

“Three years ago, you relished the opportunity to kill him, the same Prince that is locked away in the room downstairs. Three years ago, you itched at the chance to put an end to his life, to be the one who wiped another of them out.” She adjusted the soft tie at her waist, drawing it closed even further as her resonance harshed to something that mirrored disappointment.

Something that struck her stomach.

“Now you’re asking for his freedom, for his life.”

“He gave me mine back.”

“How can you trust one of them, a Moordian, who would rather see you dead?”

“How did he decide to trust me? He had a hundred chances to end me on the road and he didn’t. He risked his own neck to save mine, when he could have left me there to die.” She pushed back with everything inside of her, fought with a raging fire that refused to be diluted.

Casta sighed, pinching at either side of her nose. “If he was anyone else, I might consider it. But it’s the Golden Heir. I can’t just let him go. Not when we have a valuable asset in our hands. Any son or daughter of the King would be prized, and we’re lucky that this one just walked right up to our gates. It’s not something that happens everyday, it’s an advantage to show our hand.”

Her mother’s mind was already made up, confirmed by her concrete statement. There was nothing that would change her mind, not unless a miracle of an idea instantly scurried into her brain. And not one that sounded like a foolish, made-up-on-the-spot thought. Her mother would scoff at it, refuse to even hear her out if she so much as started spewing nonsense.

Her blood chilled, sludged in her veins. “What are you going to do with him?”

Casta drew in air, pulling her head up. “I needed a move to show Carylim that we weren’t afraid to repeat past actions. To show that we will not back down, no matter what. For three years he held you captive, let you live when he should have just ended you. I will never understand why he made that mistake, not when it’s known far and wide that you are my favourite out of all my heirs.”

A slap to the face, then a kiss to heal it over.

“I won’t repeat his mistakes.”

“You’re going to kill him.” Vrea whispered as horror rifled through her gut, charging through her like a mad bull with piercing horns that tore through her skin, her soul, the perimeter of her heart as the image of Rian’s execution rolled through her.

It wouldn’t be easy or quick.

It would be a slow show, a painful play of power.

“He has to die.” She stated, like she wasn’t ordering about the death of a man Vrea might have loved.

“No,” The woman argued. “He doesn’t.”

“Yes, he does .” Casta flung around, storming over and gripping her daughter by her shoulders, a harsh shake thrown into the mix. “He has to die, Vrea. I can’t let this chance to show our strength pass us by like a feather on the wind. I can’t just let him go.”

Vrea shoved her mother off, slapping her hands away with a resounding hit that left the woman speechless, eyes wide in shock. “If we have to hold some sort of leverage, if we have to keep an advantage over Carylim, then do the same thing you did with Daria!”

The horror transformed into fear.

Into a wretched and cruel understanding of what that would have in store for the man she loved.

But he would be alive.

“Let him be enslaved to me. Bind him in the collar, wrap him in chains but let him be bound to me for the length of two years, as we do for all Carylimians. I can get information out of him, detailed and private facts that could help us win the war.” Vrea swore, desperate to keep him around, alive.

Whatever it took, she would do it.

Because being her slave was better than his death.

Casta considered it, rubbing at her chin.

Vrea held her breath.

“Very well, Vrea. You fought for your point bravely, with the information to back it up and additional advantages that I hadn’t contemplated. A well earned victory, one that I will honour. Gather your siblings in the throne room. I’ll let them know my decision and the fate of the Moordian Prince.”

She’d won.

But in the process of winning Rian’s life, she knew she might have lost something else.

He’d never forgive her for this.