“What if he doesn’t return by morning? They’ll be suspicious.”
A ghost of a smile appeared on his face. “Of what? My hawk off hunting?”
I shrugged, but my head turned as I heard a horse whinny outside. The carriage was pulling up, and even as a shiver went down my spine, I went out of the room and almost ran for the doorway. The domina was there, bowing to Calix and Danae as they emerged, but Calix smiled when he saw me, motioning me forward.
I went to him and he pulled me into his arms, kissing me. My throat felt tight as so many things pounded in my chest. Galen’s strange advice to lie to him, the stolen money that Rian might have taken, and worse, the power that might mean my death. At my husband’s hands, no less.
And also, stupidly, the strange look on Calix’s face when he asked if I cared for him. I wondered if I could care for him in truth, if that would keep me safe if I was what I feared, if simply caring for him would make him love me.
“Come,” I said, pulling back. “You have had such an ordeal, my husband. I will tend to you.”
He smiled and kissed me again, pulling me close to his side when he was done. “Thank you, wife,” he said. “Galen,” he called, seeing him. “Follow us and report. Domina, I will need a bath.”
She had never raised her head, but she bowed farther. “Of course, my king. My servants will lead you to a room.”
The servants brought us to a different bedroom than I had been in before, with hot water in a basin and clean cloths beside it. Calix sat, and moments later servants brought in a huge basin for his bath and started filling it with bucket after bucket of steaming water.
“Wash me while they fill it, wife,” he said, looking at me and the basin on the stand. “Like you did the other night.”
Something about the way he said it in front of his brother made it seem shameful, like my attention to him made me weaker and submissive, and heat burned in my cheeks. I took a cloth anyway, dipping it in the water, and I used it to rinse one hand gently.
“Are you going to report, brother?” he snapped.
Galen cleared his throat. “We lost ten men, and—”
“So few?” Calix demanded, sitting straighter. “We lost ten men and almost a thousand tri-kings.”
“They had the advantage,” Galen said. “We couldn’t do much on the road. They chose their spot well to attack the gold without much engagement.”
“Every man who guarded that gold who is still alive will be executed before I have my dinner,” he growled.
“Calix!” I gasped.
His snarl turned toward me. “They should have died to protect it,” he snapped. “It’s a matter of honor.”
“I’m not going to execute my men,” Galen said, his voice steely.
“Then I will do it myself.”
“Oh, will you?” Galen scoffed. “You will hold the sword, brother?”
“My feet,” Calix snapped at me.
I cringed but obeyed him, taking off his boots.
“When you hold the sword, it is I holding the sword,” Calix told his brother. “You are my arm. You are my hand. And that is all.”
“No,” Galen returned.
“You have so little care for my queen?” he asked, and I froze. “Keep washing, Shalia.”
“I have the highest regard for your queen,” Galen said.
“She could have been murdered today. Our peace could have been destroyed. And you won’t punish your men for their inadequacies? You may as well spit on my wife and my marriage.” I looked to Calix, but he wasn’t looking at me, invoking me like I wasn’t there at all, just using me to make a point to his brother.
“My men defended her admirably. And they will continue to do so.”
“So my wife is more important than my money. Is that what you are saying?” Calix asked. He looked down and saw that I was finished washing his hands and feet. “You may disrobe me, wife, so that I can bathe.”
I didn’t dare turn toward Galen, but I heard him make some small noise as Calix stood with a smirk on his face. I rose with him to untie his shirt. “You disapprove of the way I treat my wife, brother?”
“I made no such comment.”
Calix chuckled. “Execute them, or I will brand them as traitors and their families won’t receive a pension,” he said. “And they will still be dead.”
I pulled Calix’s shirt over his head, and my hands shook as I reached for the ties on his lower half. Was this a trick? Surely he didn’t want me exposing him to his brother. Had he no modesty?
“I will inspect their bodies as soon as possible.”
Galen grunted. “Allow me to give them a good meal, at least. And if I can do it while the others sleep, there will be less dissent from the men.”
“Very well. It is Domina Naxos who is paying to host them, not me.” Calix cupped my cheek, smiling at me darkly. “Now go, before you embarrass my wife.”
I heard Galen’s boots on the floor, and the door shut behind him. Only then did I look up to see Galen gone, and at Calix’s urging, I helped him remove the rest of his clothes. “You can wash me in the bath, wife. I think I enjoy being taken care of.”
I stared at the floor while he got in the steaming water by the fire.
“You look displeased, my love.”
“I didn’t like that,” I said softly. “I wish to care for you, but to do it in front of your brother—it made me feel subservient, Calix. Not like your wife.”
He tugged my hand, but I resisted him. “I wished only to show you off,” he told me. He tugged harder, and I moved, frightened by the strength of it. “You are queen, and I need you displayed always.”
“And you will make a display of those men,” I said, my heart aching. “I don’t understand why you want more death on such a day.”
He pulled my arm until I dropped to my knees beside the bath. “Your heart is soft, and that is good and right, wife. But mine cannot be. More important than love, than grief, more important than anything is power. And to allow them to live would be to sacrifice it, and I cannot do that.”
His voice had a hard edge to it, and I nodded, biting my lip.
“Wash me,” he ordered.
I did as he asked, and when he was through, I helped him dress and left the room to ask the servants to bring supper.
As the door shut behind me, I saw Kairos, skulking in the darkness. His mouth lifted, and he waggled his eyebrows at me, but said nothing.
I pressed back the urge to cry again, giving him a tiny smile and going to find a servant.
My husband and I ate supper together in silence. Afterward, he stretched and said he was quite tired, and I stood. “Do you mind if I take the food back to the kitchens?” I asked him. “I’m so restless. I think a walk will help.”
He looked at the bed like he knew this was a ploy to shirk my duty, but he sighed. “Very well. I’m tired. I won’t be awake when you return.”
“I won’t disturb you,” I promised.
I brought the food back to the kitchens, swayed for a moment by the warm fire, but there were too many servants looking at me curiously there. I went out the first door I could find, emerging onto a wide expanse of grass fading into dark night where the lamplight ended. It was so cold outside, and I hugged my arms around myself, feeling the shaky tremors of unshed tears still stoppered inside me. My husband wasn’t there, but still I didn’t want to let them free.
Walking out to the edge of the light, I drew slow breaths, listening to the night birds rustling in the trees. I wondered if these strange places were governed by the same spirits we had in the desert. The stories I had heard of them mandated that spirits were in everything, everywhere, and they could not be destroyed or created, only remade. But it seemed strange that they could survive here, with no one to respect them or remember them.
But if that were true, wasn’t it possible that the powers of the islands could be found somewhere else too? They were not unlike spirits, from what I’d heard.
What
would it even mean? I knew some of Kata’s power—she could control water, make it do her bidding. She had opened temples one at a time, releasing water, air, fire, and earth, like the breaking of a dam. If I had moved the rock—if, if—my element would be earth. I could manipulate the earth?
Despite knowing enough that I desperately wanted to hide such knowledge from my husband, I suddenly felt like I knew nothing about these powers—not really. Kata had said that anyone could have them now, but who did have them? Were there no ceremonies, no rites—how could such power just appear? I didn’t even know how common these powers were. When the powers still lived in the islanders, their people had been legendary—they could build palaces with nothing but their hands; they had the most mighty naval fleet in the world. They could re-form the earth to their will.
I looked down at the ground, dotted with small rocks, covered over with spiky grass. I held my hand out to it, frowning and squinting at it, willing it to move.
Nothing happened.
I tried again, feeling utterly foolish as I held my breath and tensed my muscles, acting like I could push the earth with just my will.
Nothing.
Curling my fingers into fists, I walked faster. Of course. I couldn’t be an Elementa. It wasn’t even possible, much less likely or probable or even reasonable.
And looking back to the large building, I was grateful that I was no Elementa. It had to be a lie, a trick, something—I couldn’t be that and be married to Calix.
I would not survive.
My hands were shivering by the time I came around to the front of the house, drawn by the sound of the burbling fountain. It sounded like the river that tripped through Jitra, but false and confined.
My skin prickled, scraped by the cold, and I nearly turned to go back into the house, but something caught my eye on the dark edge of the courtyard. I could see boots, just the very tips of them, and I walked closer.
My hand flew to my mouth, and I sank weakly to my knees as the tears I had fought for hours came rushing out.
Four men were lying there like they were asleep, their throats cut, their skin gray. I could only guess these were the failed soldiers, the ones my husband ordered killed.
The men Galen killed. How could he follow such an order? My husband ordered it so, but Galen was commander, powerful in his own right. And he just killed his men who had done their best.
But Galen hadn’t wanted to obey. It was easy to see in the way he defied his brother—I could not imagine what such a task must have cost him. What years of struggling under such orders must have cost him.
“Shalia?”
I turned and saw Galen on his horse, riding closer, his eyes sweeping back and forth like he was searching. “Where is Calix?” he said urgently.
But I couldn’t stop crying, covering my mouth to stop from making noise and drawing my husband out here to see my weakness, his softhearted wife.
“Shalia, three hells, stop crying,” Galen said. “Where is Calix? Has he seen these men?”
When I raised my head, I saw he was covered in blood, his hair mussed, his uniform ruined. But—I turned back to the bodies, and despite their throats being cut, there was very little blood on the wounds.
The tears shocked out of me, I looked behind him. He had been riding a horse, and on it was a prostrate body. “Great Skies,” I breathed.
“Shalia, has Calix seen this?” he demanded.
I struggled to stand, coming closer to him, but he shrank away.
“I’m covered in their blood, Shalia,” he warned. “You can’t touch me.”
“He’s asleep,” I told him, sniffing and wiping my face. “These men—how did they die?” It wasn’t here, by his hand—that I was certain of.
Galen swallowed. “In the attack. He won’t know these aren’t the men who guarded the gold.” His eyes watched me carefully. “Unless you tell him.”
Another secret, but this one felt more important than the others. It was deceiving my husband, directly undermining his orders.
And yet, not speaking this truth would save the men who were supposed to die—and possibly even Galen. And if there was even a chance I was an Elementa, I would need so much more practice in keeping things from Calix.
I wiped my cheeks again. “I would never.”
“You were crying for them?” he asked.
For everything, I thought. “Yes,” seemed like a safer answer. “And you,” I admitted, lowering my eyes.
“Me.”
I dared to look up at him, so pale and covered in blood it was as if he had been the one murdered. “They’re your men,” I said, my voice catching. “And I knew you didn’t want to do what he asked.”
His jaw worked, muscles slowly rolling and moving. “Neither did you, it seemed.”
Yet he had figured out a way to thwart his brother, and I had knelt at Calix’s feet like a dog, obeying him. The thought stung. “I’m happy you didn’t have to,” I told him honestly.
“I’m the commander of an army, and I hate death,” he said, his voice soft.
I drew a breath, bobbing my head. “It’s a difficult strength to have, to be sure.”
“You think that’s strength,” he said, and it wasn’t a question. As a statement, it made me feel foolish, but I refused to feel ashamed of that.
“Yes,” I said, meeting his eyes again.
But he wasn’t trying to make me feel foolish. That was clear in his eyes. He appeared young, and lost, and like he wanted to believe my words. He swallowed and his eyes left mine. “You should go,” he said. “Thank you for not telling him.”
Another secret. I nodded, sniffing again. “Good night, Galen.”
He didn’t reply, turning away from me and going to pull the other body off his horse.
I paused for a moment. “Galen,” I said, trying not to be loud.
He stopped.
“This may be garish, but they need more blood at their throats,” I said, and knew even as I said it that helping Galen create his lie was worse than just hiding the truth from my husband. “He’ll be able to tell.”
Galen looked sharply to the bodies and nodded. “Good night, my queen.”
I went back to Calix. I changed into a nightdress the domina had brought before dinner, sliding into bed beside my husband. I jumped when his arm snaked around me, but he didn’t fully wake.
It took me a long while to fall asleep, counting my secrets like armor.
Calix woke me before the dawn that came in gray and overcast, and the domina gave me fresh clothes and a new, thicker coat to wear. As we gathered to leave and Calix’s attention was elsewhere, I embraced her as I’d seen Galen do. “Thank you,” I told her. “Your hospitality has been such a salve on the wounds of yesterday. I am so sorry I have nothing to offer you in return.”
Her soft cheeks lifted like there were small apples inside them, and she bent and kissed my hands, then pressed my cheeks with her own hands. “Nonsense. You are most welcome, my queen. May the rest of your reign be more peaceful than this.”
I smiled. “Thank you.”
“My king,” she said, stepping back and bowing to him as he entered the room. His hand slid around my waist, pulling me close to him. “Your queen is graceful and kind.”
“Yes,” he said, taking my chin and turning my face to him, kissing me in front of her. I tried to draw back, but he wouldn’t allow it.
“Why don’t you get settled in the carriage, my queen,” he said, finally releasing me.
I dropped my head to him, pulling away as Kairos strode into the room, carrying several long, furry animals tied to a branch. “Domina,” he said, bowing to her. “A gift for you, for your generosity. I’m told these pelts are very precious.”
She laughed, delighted, moving forward. “Oh my. Are these mink? Goodness, I didn’t even know we had any on this land.”
“My hawk is an accomplished hunter,” he explained. “And it goes against our ways to leave a host without a gift.”
&
nbsp; She laughed again and thanked him, coming to kiss his cheek. He grinned, leading me out to the carriage while the domina took pains to fawn over my husband as well.
Galen was on his horse, looking stiff and tense, his face still pale though he was cleaned of blood. His eyes met mine for an instant, but they flicked away just as quickly.
Kairos helped me into the carriage, and I saw Danae sitting there, waiting for us. Her eyes looked up at me cautiously. “Yesterday,” she said. “I know you saw me kill that man.”
I sat beside her. “Yes,” I said.
“It’s best if you don’t speak of that to anyone,” she said, raising her chin in a way that reminded me of Calix.
“I thought not,” I said carefully. “And while I know what I saw, I don’t know what it meant.”
“Yes, you do,” she said, her voice sharp. “Princesses are supposed to be married, and instead, I was trained to be a killer. I became the hidden face in every way that matters,” she said bitterly.
“Danae—” I started, but she got up and switched sides of the carriage.
“It’s best you don’t speak of it in front of Calix,” she said, looking out the window.
“He doesn’t know?”
“Of course he knows,” she said, but she didn’t explain further. There were splotches of color on her pale cheeks, and she refused to look at me.
Silenced, I nodded, and Calix entered the carriage, nudging me over more to sit beside me on the seat. “Get on with it,” he shouted to the army. “We’ve lost a lot of time.”
I looked at her, and out the window at Galen, and thought of the things both siblings had asked me to keep from their brother. Calix’s hand captured my own, and his fingers caught mine, curling them over his, rearranging me around him until he was comfortable. I felt the eyes of this man-made God, my husband, move over me, and I thought of my own secrets too.
Three faces, and two wrapped themselves in lies and shadow so the third wouldn’t see the ways in which they defied him.
The Clever Brother
By the end of the fourth day we were closing in on the city, and my husband required both his siblings and me to ride in the carriage, ordering the army to part to let the carriage through so we could move more quickly. He wanted no stops to be made, no delays. It wasn’t long before we slanted up a steep road. When the carriage was on flat ground again, I heard a low boom and jumped.