Page 152 of To Scale the Emerald Mountain

I glance at Cescily, watching the man stoically; a level headed leader.

“Why would one of my brother’s be a better option? Cescily has been present at every council meeting since she came of age. Cescily was personally taught everything there is to know about this Kingdom and how to properly run it. Cescily has already efficiently demonstrated her impeccable decision making and naturality in a position of power,” Alec says menacingly, his distaste on full, terrifying display.

My thighs rub together beneath the table, and he squeezes my knee tight, before running his hand up to rest high on my leg.

“Of course, my king. I apologize for questioning your decision.” The councilor’s face glistens while he stammers, trying to recover himself from the displeasure of his king.

“Do not apologize to me,” Alec spits. “Apologize to your princess, who you have insulted by insinuating that her face is not good enough to speak for Quinndohs.” Alec stands, quickly and silently, as the councilor stutters his apologies to Cescily. She wavesher hand dismissively. “When Ellya and I take our leave, Cescily’s word is law. That is all,” Alec announces, reaching his hand for me to take.

The councilors all stand and bow, and we leave with Cescily in tow.

The three of us pause in the throne room, waiting for the councilors to shuffle out. Alec watches them intensely, and they take the hint—scurrying off quickly. When the large doors close behind them, Cescily and Alec both deflate and sigh at the same time, shedding their royal masks.

“That went better than I expected it to,” Cescily says. “It probably helps that everyone knows you’ve been killing endless prisoners to take the edge off lately. Plus, your stunt last night. The whole city is talking about that. Didn’t feel the need for damage control on that one, brother?” she asks, brows raised with amusement.

“Unnecessary. Elly blasted an innocent woman in the street for looking at me. I caught another man with his tongue in my mate’s ear. Entirely different,” Alec grits, giving me a fiery stare.

We haven’t spoken about my reckless behavior in my attempts to make him jealous, as well as self-destruct. My fight to deny myself happiness as a trauma response nearly crumpled the second Alec kicked that door in.

Was that really only last night?

I whisper an apology, then bite my lip.

Alec pulls my lip free with his thumb before capturing it between his own teeth, pulling it, and eliciting a soft moan from me.

Cescily groans at the lewd display of affection. “I don’t know that I’ll be able to stomach being around you two much for the foreseeable future.” Despite her words, she smiles at us with fondaffection. “I’m guessing I should tell Mother you won’t be joining us for dinner tonight?”

Alec must see my trepidation at facing everyone so soon after the climatic return of my full memories. “Yes, I would appreciate that,” he answers.

Cescily gives me a bone breaking hug. I hear her sniffle as she turns to leave, waving behind her head in farewell.

“Will you still walk with me?” Alec extends the crook of his arm and glances down at it before his dark eyes meet mine.

“Yes. But I expect fried dough and grilled lamb after.”

“Anything you want shall be yours,” he promises as I take his arm.

We walk through the sprawling palace while he tells me animatedly about his favorite features, such as the bubbled colorful domes and intricate arches. The endless mosaics of colors and geometric shapes take my breath away. Alec’s shown me a lot of this before, and I was mostly uninterested.

It’s as if I’m seeing it all through brand new eyes now, and I suppose, in a way, I am.

I’m enraptured by the history of the palace and the ancient architects and artists who contributed to its conception and construction. We walk through several courtyards and gardens and galleries.

Alec tells me stories of how the god Mattyas is said to have had a hand in the design of the palace before the gods disappeared. He tells me about the history of the crest of the Vahnsings, the dualfaced sun, based off Mattyas, the God of Duality himself. I had never realized how much Quinndohs idolized Mattyas, though not as fanatically as the citizens of the Territories do Ellhora. I tell Alec this; to which he replies, “I am sure you know that you did not always pay attention to my history lessons.”

By the time the sun has dipped below the horizon, we’ve only seen about a quarter of the palace and my stomach aches and growls. I stand in a courtyard and gaze at the velvet spread of the night sky—speckled with twinkling stars and shimmering smudges of burning vapors—wondering how I haven’t allowed myself to see the visual melody of the desert night of Quinndohs until now.

“You are a vision,” Alec whispers thickly, breaking me out of my reverie.

Turning my head, I find him watching me with the same awe I gave the sky.

Alec strides to me and wraps his arms around my waist. “Do you think you will be happy here?”

With me.

He doesn’t say it, but I see the unasked question in his uncertain eyes.

My rejection over the last weeks has given Alec a small amount of doubt that was not there before, when we were both so certain of our future together. Before that bright and beautiful future that we worked together for years to nurture was ripped from us viciously, along with my innocence.