Page 81 of Scorched Earth (Dark Shores #4)
“We believe Malahi can do it,” Lydia said.
“There are ancient paintings in Anukastre that show as much. Beautiful artwork that has stood the test of time by virtue of being underground, and it shows people with branches for hands standing before rivers of black. The Anuk believe they were tenders of old.”
“But no records of exactly what they did?”
“No, the Anuk believe the paintings are a thousand or more years old, and any record that might have existed has been lost to war, fire, or time. Our hope is that the library in Revat will still have some record. Seldrid plans to send word to the Sultan requesting that he have the librarians assist in the search, but my plan was to go look myself, because it isn’t just the land that has been corrupted.
My plan…” Lydia trailed off, reality slapping her in the face.
“But that’s no longer possible, is it? The High Lords aren’t going to allow their puppet queen to traipse off to Revat to dig for answers in the stacks. ”
Everyone’s eyes turned to Lady Calorian, whose glass was empty in her hand.
“Hacken aims to be king,” she said quietly.
“But though he holds a great deal of sway over the High Lords and Ladies currently sipping wine with him in his study, they refuse to kneel to him, which is reason for the betrothal to Ria. A betrothal that I expect will never see a wedding, for of a surety, his eyes are now on Kitaryia.”
That’s not my name.
“If he aims to try to marry me, he’s in for a harsh rejection,” Lydia muttered.
“You say that now, but you forget the power he wields,” Lady Calorian said.
“Our lands are the few untouched by blight or war; our crops and water are nearly all that Mudamora has to feed the people. What if he makes his support, and all that comes with it, conditional on a betrothal? Will you say no? Because if he removes his support, you will be queen no longer.”
Lydia’s lips parted to unleash an angry retort, but instead said, “He wouldn’t do such a thing. It would be madness to risk the entire kingdom on a bid for power.”
“All my sons are gamblers, in their own way,” Lady Calorian responded. “Seldrid with his gold and Killian with his own life, but Hacken? Hacken gambles with the lives of others, and he does not much care how many he loses if it helps him achieve his ends.”
Killian abruptly rose to his feet, going to the balcony, and Lydia followed him. The rear of the manor overlooked a dense canopy of trees, the sunlight dappling the leaves and the air alive with the hum of insects, though she could also hear the horses in the pastures whinnying beyond.
“I don’t know what to do,” she said. “This is the last thing I wanted. But for all Malahi violated my trust, I understand her motivations. If I don’t wear the crown, they will vote for Hacken, and I do not think he will act in the best interest of the people.”
“I know.” His brown eyes fixed on the trees, though she doubted he was seeing them. “But that doesn’t mean I’m happy to dangle you before all those High Lords as a future wife for them or their sons.”
She wrapped her arms around him, pressing her head to his chest. “I’m yours. There is no future for me without you in it.”
“But…”
Growing up in Celendor had trained her in the arts of politics, and like it or not, the lessons she’d learned in the East had left their mark. “I think we need to string them along with the potential of marriage until we’re on the other side of it.”
“And what am I supposed to do?” he snapped. “Be your shadow, guarding your back while you lead all these men into thinking you aren’t mine through and through?”
Lydia flinched, hearing the hurt in his voice. Feeling it in her own heart, because they’d fought their way to each other only to have yet another obstacle drag them apart.
“I think you’re getting ahead of yourself,” Dareena said. “All of this is speculation and theory, not a demand that anyone has made of you. I’d suggest we appease Hacken by playing along. We dress Lydia like the Falorn queen he wants her to be while working to achieve our own goals.”
Lydia turned around, latching onto Dareena’s words because at least they offered hope. And all at the cost of wearing certain clothes. “Do you have a dress I can borrow?”
“I don’t wear dresses.”
“Let me see what I can do.” Lady Calorian rose to her feet. “Excuse me.”
After she left, Lydia said, “Do you think Hacken can be persuaded to allow me to travel to Revat? If there is an answer to be had, it will be there.”
“I think that’s a task Malahi will have to manage,” Dareena said. “She’s learned enough to work with the librarians, and if what those paintings in Anukastre indicate is true, it’s her mark that will defeat the blight. Unless there is another reason you believe you’d be an asset in the search?”
Lydia hesitated, reluctant to put words to the hope in her heart. “I wanted to speak to the librarians to see what could be done for those who have succumbed to the blight,” she finally said. “Not just those infected, as Lena was, but… but those we’ve lost to it.”
Killian shifted behind her, his distress palpable. “Healers cannot bring back the dead, and it’s death to those who try.”
“I know that.” She rounded on him, her hands balled into fists.
“And maybe Malahi is the answer for those who have fallen. Maybe in pulling it from the land, she’ll pull it from the infected as well, but I don’t think so.
The body is Hegeria’s domain, so I truly do believe it needs to be a healer who saves them. ”
“But their souls are gone,” he said. “Even if you remove the poison from their bodies and the Corrupter along with it, that doesn’t change that their souls are with the Six.”
“Then maybe that’s all I accomplish.” Lydia knew it was a long shot, but it still hurt that he wasn’t willing to support her attempt. “Maybe all I can do is give them peace, and in doing so, take away Rufina’s army.”
“Well, that’s not nothing given that they outnumber us four to one,” Dareena said. “I’ll think on it.”
A knock sounded on the door, and when Killian opened it, Lady Calorian stood outside with a large box in her arms. “This was mine, once,” she said, crossing the room to set the box on the bed. “When I was in service to Queen Camilla. I dare say, I could not fit into it now.”
Feeling uneasy for reasons she couldn’t quite explain, Lydia pushed her spectacles up her nose and then lifted the lid off the box. Inside was an elaborate corseted gown made of leather dyed green, the neck high and the sleeves long. A gown fit for a warrior and a queen.
“You’ll sweat like mad in that,” Dareena said. “That’s a gown for the north. Should we cut off the sleeves so your armpits can breathe?”
“You will do no such thing!” Lady Calorian snapped. “Put away that knife.”
Lydia drew Killian aside. “Will you go speak to Malahi and Agrippa? Explain the situation and have Seldrid make arrangements for passage to Revat? We have no time to lose.”
Killian nodded, then said to Dareena, “Don’t leave her side.”
She only grunted at him, her focus on the dress.
Lydia went back to the bed, then lifted the garment, the rich leather nothing more than beautifully made shackles. “Turn me into a queen worthy of Mudamora.”
But as Killian shut the door behind him, she heard him say, “You already are.”