Page 18 of Of Rime and Ruin (Sirens of Adria #2)

Chapter sixteen

Aethan

Lucas is in his office, where he stands at his desk, poring over an assortment of metal tools. The fire burns low. Hanging from its mount on the wall above the hearth, the taxidermied frostcat greets me with its permanent snarl.

“Sire,” Lucas says without looking up.

As I approach, he pulls a cloth over his tools, hiding them from my view. “New project?” I ask.

“Just dabbling, Sire,” he deflects. “How can I help you today? Are you bleeding? Is someone else bleeding?”

“No.” And I’m fully clothed. My hands and feet are white again, as they should be. All evidence of my swim is gone. But an anomaly shouldn’t dictate my future, and I’m not in the clear. “I need you to fix me. There must be a way to keep it from happening.”

Lucas snuffs out a few candles on his desk, casting the room into shadow. “I’m afraid I have discovered nothing new since your last request, Your Majesty.”

“We’re missing something important,” I press. He pulls out a chair for me, and I sit. “Tell me what you remember of my mother’s condition. You treated her too, correct?”

He purses his lips, pondering for a moment. “If you’re like your mother, it happens when you submerge in water.”

“Cold water, yes.” I keep my tone level and stare straight ahead. Emotion has no place in this room; this is medical business.

“And you started noticing these changes as you transitioned into adulthood. Eighteen?”

“That’s right.”

“The same as your mother.” He leans against his desk, crossing his ankles. “And from my research, that’s where the curse entered the bloodline. There are no records of her ancestry before she married into the royal family.”

“Did she ever have… outbursts?”

Her face, pale as the morning snow, blooms with freezing blood.

I flinch as the memory resurfaces. No matter how hard I’ve tried to bury it, it’s always there. Stewing in the dredges of my mind. Waiting to suck me under. My hand curls into a fist, tightening around the rough fabric of my pants.

“She didn’t sever limbs, if that’s what you want to know,” Lucas says evenly.

Fuck. It’s the truth, and we both know it. I’m a monster. A cold-blooded killer. It doesn’t matter if I have no memory of it. I’m the one leaving the bodies on the beach.

I stare at my clenched hands, waiting for the inevitable shade of blue as my heart increases its rhythm. “Sometimes, it feels like the Beast is waiting inside me, waiting to break free. Sometimes, it seizes control, and I can’t—”

“It’s unusual that you should have an emotional connection to the Beast. Your mother only began the change when in contact with water.” He says it like it’s the most obvious thing in the world, but it’s news to me.

My condition is unusual . Just my fucking luck.

I cross my arms and inhale, trying to get back to baseline. This was a chum-brained endeavor, and I should never have asked him about her.

“The curse is stronger for you, Sire. I knew that the moment you first transformed.” He watches me carefully, his gaze flicking over my body. He notes my fists in my lap, and he frowns.

A gash on her cheek, tugging the corner of her sad, knowing eye. She reaches for me through a cloud of bubbles. It’s the last I remember of her, before my world went dark.

A distant look falls over Lucas’s face as he wipes his hands on the corner of his shirt. “I’ve forgiven you, you know. For Cassandra.”

Scales rise along my scalp at the mention of that name. His sister. We haven’t spoken of her in years.

He cocks his head. “Have you forgotten her so soon?”

“No, I remember. May Audrina rest her scales.” I force the words around the lump in my throat. Cassandra was a healer, and like Lucas, she served the royal family. Until the day she stood too close.

I shudder.

The healer shrugs. “Audrina has given me compassion, Sire. Like I said, there are no hard feelings. I simply want to help you prevent future mishaps from happening.”

“I am honored,” I choke.

Lucas hums. His magic spirals from the tip of his finger, casting golden light. He watches the tendril, a slow smile spreading. “Are you a murderer, Your Majesty? Hard to tell, isn’t it? That implies intention.”

The thread of magic convulses around his fingers. Twitches. Like a candle fighting the wind.

Cassandra. My mother. The siren on the beach…

I run through the faces of my victims as the guilt drags me down.

In the back of my head, another voice growls in disagreement.

“Murderer?” I rumble. I can hear him in my tone, the rough growl of the clawbeast.

“There you are, Beast,” he says. He pushes off the desk and leans on the arms of my chair. His breath spills over my space and his mouth contorts into a snarl. “Now, Your Majesty, pull yourself together!”

I gnash my teeth. The ice twists in my stomach. Darkness spreads from my fingertips, crawling up my arms. “How?” I gasp. “How do I control it?”

“Wrestle it. You want to be a king? Start by mastering yourself,” he hisses.

I squeeze my eyes shut. Count to ten.

“Not good enough!” he bellows.

Breathe. In. Out. In. Out. The tingling sensation retreats from my arms, the cascade of scales creeping away.

“Wrestle, Sire! Master it!”

In. Out. I unfurl my fists. My hands are warm again, the chill nearly gone from my fingers.

I feel the ghost of his presence step away from me, and I open my eyes.

“Something like that,” Lucas says. His breath leaves my face, and his footsteps pad toward the fire.

“Let’s try getting back into a solid routine.

You’ve been unpredictable. Lazy. Avoiding your kingly duties to attend this pity party of one.

Keeping yourself caged up is one answer, but I fear for the long-term effects on the state of your kingdom. ”

“What,” I spit through gritted teeth, “do you suggest?”

“You let yourself off the hook too easily, Sire. You shy away from difficult matters when you should embrace them. Adversity strengthens you.” His voice comes from far away, near the fire. He pokes at the stones in the hearth, red hot.

“Brisk walk every low-tide. Simple breakfast. Attend to the ledger. Visit the townsfolk. Take requests. Make them happen. Maintain control of your kingdom—and you’ll maintain control of yourself, naturally.”

“I am the king,” I growl. “I’m always in control of my kingdom.” Breathe. Breathe.

“Certainly.” He turns from the fire. Is that a smirk?

“But you could be better , Sire. And that’s where I come in.

” He twirls the iron poker in his hand, inspecting the glowing tip.

“I have a theory. For how to fix you. I need more time to complete my research, but if you’re…

willing… to cooperate, I’m certain we can achieve great things together. ”

“Research,” I echo. “How long do you need?”

“A couple weeks, Sire. Re-establish your routine. Then we can get started.”

I loosen my jaw. Force my tongue to drop from the roof of my mouth. With a cautious hand, I reach for my neck, massaging the tension away.

Lucas has always served my family well. He treated my mother’s ailments, and he’s known me since I was a guppy. If anyone can cure me, it’s him.

I trust my family’s secret with no other healer but him.

“Deal,” I say, lifting from the chair. I point at his beloved frostcat on the mantel. “But I’d better not end up like him.”

Lucas’s grin spreads slowly. “You have my word.”