Page 62 of Return of the Darkness (The Lost Kingdom Saga #3)

“I am happy with Alvan, but in the rare moments we’re not together, I find myself thinking of all the different ways my life might have turned out had Riyas not died, if I had never become close with Alvan because Riyas was there to help me navigate becoming queen.

” Larelle took a breath, trying not to cry.

Gently, Nerida held Larelle’s chin, turning her head to face her.

“May I show you something?” she asked. When Larelle nodded, Nerida moved her palms to the side of Larelle’s head. She sobbed.

Riyas roared with laughter and slammed his drink on the table, the ale spilling over the edge and coating the cards on the table.

Even though the man beside him scolded his raucousness, the others continued laughing with Riyas as he scraped a pile of coins towards his growing collection.

His muscles were more defined, and his hair was longer; he moved with the assurance of a man who was respected, far different from the sailor working his way up the ranks.

“I told you I’d beat you with ease,” he chuckled, his midnight blue eyes twinkling under the dim light of the tavern.

The man who scolded him scowled, focusing on the pile of gold coins being scraped into a sack.

“Right, boys, I’ll see you by the docks at sunrise.

” Riyas grinned, clapping the men on the shoulders as they all complained and yelled for him to stay.

The white stone streets were painted in the glow of sunset as he left the establishment and took a right towards the alleyway.

Stumbling, he dropped his bag of coins and swore, bending to scoop them up.

A swift kick met his stomach, knocking his dark hair loose from its band as he toppled over, smacking his head against the smooth white streets.

He looked up at the disgruntled man from the card table, his eyes glazed.

Riyas waved a hand, as if to summon some power, but the man stamped hard onto his fingers with a resounding crunch before plunging a knife into his stomach.

He did not get up but lay in the white alleyway, his eyes drifting open and shut in a pool of his own blood while the man scooped up the coins and left him for dead.

“What are you doing?” Larelle cried, trying to snatch Nerida’s hand from her head, but the goddess lifted the other and held her temple tight.

Riyas winked at the brunette, handing him a glass of amber liquid. Her lavender gown was far more modest than the other women in the establishment, which only had the other men fantasising about her more.

“Can’t sleep?” she asked. Riyas’s eyes darkened. “Alright, alright, I won’t ask.” She curled a finger in the direction of the two women, beckoning them over.

“You promised you’d stop asking,” Riyas said, barely glancing at the ladies as the redhead took his hand while the blonde led him towards the curtained wall.

“And you promised you’d help me get answers, but here we are.” The brunette offered a sarcastic smile as she waved him away. Riyas ducked into one of many carved away alcoves, where the flaming sconces dimmed, casting a tantalising glow over the two women undressing before him.

“Stop!” Larelle screamed, shoving Nerida away as tears spilled down her cheeks. She regretted it immediately, having laid her hands on a goddess, but only pity resided in Nerida’s eyes. “What was that?” Larelle pulled her legs up under her chin.

“Other paths and possibilities that could have been,” Nerida sighed. “There are plenty of what ifs in this world, Larelle. Those were two what ifs. Even if he was here, it does not mean he would be with you. Perhaps Alvan was always your destiny.”

***

Larelle was silent, allowing Nerida’s power to push them through the waters and return them to the Vellius Sea.

A numbness settled in Larelle’s bones after what she had been forced to witness.

Nerida silently followed her to shore and waited at the water’s edge.

With a wave of her hand, she pulled the water from Larelle’s hair and clothing as she looked for Alvan and Zarya, expecting to find them at the water’s edge, playing.

But Alvan sat on the floor beneath Olden, holding Zarya in his arms. Her body trembled as she cried.

“What’s wrong?” Larelle asked, approaching. Alvan shook his head as Zarya remained buried in his arms, crying.

“I’m sorry,” Alvan said. Larelle looked up at the rock Olden slept on upright. His chest did not rise and fall. His mouth hung slightly open, and his shoulders were slumped.

“No,” Larelle sobbed, rushing forward and reaching for his hand.

He had been fine, smiling and speaking with Nerida only recently.

But as Larelle held his hand, it felt cold.

Her fingers trembled as she shifted them to his wrist, searching for a pulse.

The man who had been her father for the last five years was gone.

“What did you do?” She whirled towards Nerida.

“He was fine, but then you touched him and now he’s dead!

” Larelle yelled. Power rumbled in her core, aching to break free at the goddess, but she could not pull it forward. Something was holding her power down.

“He was not fine,” Nerida said, her tone firm. “He has wanted to go for some time but was holding on for you and Zarya.”

“What did you show him?” Larelle snapped, recalling how she held Olden’s temple like she had held hers. Her goddess must have realised the pain she had caused as it manifested in the tears streaming down Larelle’s cheeks.

“I showed him something he needed to know to be at peace.” Those were Nerida’s final words as she dived back into the water.

Larelle spun back to Olden, reaching for his hand again.

She would not be able to take him with her or cast him into the ocean as he deserved.

But above all, what pained Larelle the most was not being able to say goodbye for the second time in her life.