Tranquility's Grief Read online

  Erem looked over her, to the Rygent whose warm hands rubbed her back, using Power to knit the bones back together. “I’m prettier.”

  Bethany wheezed. “Arrago?”

  Erem’s smile faded. “Haven’t seen him yet. Edmund’s looking for him. We haven’t found Daniel yet, either, so…” He shrugged. “Hope isn’t gone yet.”

  “Jovan?”

  “Jovan!” Lendra shrieked and waved, causing Bethany to sway.

  “Stop,” Bethany gasped. “Stop moving. I’m going to vomit.”

  “Sorry!” Lendra squeaked out.

  Jovan crouched down and Erem thumped Bethany on the shoulder before wandering off, though he also gave Lendra’s head a little pat, too.

  “Merciful Apexia,” Jovan whispered, “Bethany.”

  “I just needed a massage.”

  Jovan reached out and touched her face. “Don’t ever die. My mother will kill me if anything happens to you.”

  Bethany grinned. “Painted peacock.”

  They both laughed at the old joke between them, except that Bethany choked and gasp, drawing the ire of the Rygent healing her.

  “Arrago?”

  Jovan shook his head. “Still looking. There are a lot of bodies…” Lendra made a pained sound and Jovan put his arm around her. “Don’t worry. Knowing him, he’s probably knocked out and buried somewhere.”

  They chatted for a few moments, Bethany asking about the battle, losses, and fortifications. She was in no shape to manage anything herself, and Jovan knew his job as well she did, but talking took her mind off what her sister had done. She was alive because her sister forced Magi to heal her, using oils and Magic. Bethany was breathing because of Magic. She shivered at having been drowned in evil.

  “Look!” Jovan said, pointing in the distance.

  “I can’t move my head,” Bethany said.

  Jovan picked her enough so that Lendra could twist around, and he lay Bethany’s head back down. “Do you see?”

  In the distance, a tall man leaned on a short, stocky man. Humans, elorians, and elves cheered and hooted. Bethany let out a breath, realizing she’d been holding it all that time.

  “Arrago.”

  Chapter Thirty-Eight

  Her pain will bleed into their hearts.

  -Aleu’s “The Agony of the Diamond

  War is always proclaimed as a glorious moment, where glory and honor, and dark deeds are done. Where the will of men is pitted against the other, and where only the mighty are triumphant.

  But no one considers the aftermath, the nightmare that lingers in the dark moments. It strips away the glory and leaves the living with nothing more than the memories of the horrors they’d brought. In the darkness, there would be no glory, no triumph.

  Just the pain of knowing you are a monster and not being able to do anything about it.

  And in the midst of it all, Bethany stood, triumphant, and missing yet another piece of her soul. By the end, she’d lost nearly half of her people and a good portion of the town. It was to Jon Black Crow’s credit that the entire place didn’t turn into flames, even if he’d given his life for his people.

  Lendra stood next to Bethany as she surveyed the damage. “So many died.”

  “Yes, they did.” Bethany leaned heavily on her crutches, refusing her sister’s help. The healers had worked on her day and night, taking turns. She’d recovered enough to live, but her recovery would be months, if she ever completely healed. Her spine and pelvis has been shattered, and she’d lost a lot of blood. But she was alive. Because of Magic and Power, both coursed through her body.

  Lendra let out a pained noise. “I feel so guilty.”

  “Why?”

  “Because I’m alive and they aren’t.”

  Bethany wrapped an arm around her sister and pulled her tight, balancing her crutch. “It will go away.”

  “Promise?” Lendra asked, her blue eyes wide and wet.

  Bethany squeezed tighter. “Promise.”

  “What happens now?”

  Bethany looked around and said, “I gave Jon Black Crow my word that we would rebuild any damage done to the town. We will honor that promise.” She left off how it was her fault that they were now without a leader, without homes, without food.

  She was a deathbringer.

  “Lady Bethany,” Jackson called out as he jogged toward her. “King Arrago requests your presence.”

  “He’s been king for a week and he thinks he can boss me around,” Bethany complained to Lendra.

  Lendra gave her a sad smile. Poor Lendra. She wanted everyone’s love story to have a happy ending.

  Jackson, for his part, tried to smile. One side of his face had been badly burned in the fight, and even with the help of the healers, the skin was still pink and taut, puckered and misshapen.

  “Your face is healing well,” Lendra said.

  “Provided infection doesn’t set in. The healers say the worst of the scarring will fade. There never seems to be enough healers during war to fix everyone up perfectly.” He let out a frustrated sound. “But, I think the only woman who’ll touch me again will be the one I pay for.”

  Lendra glanced at Bethany, unsure of what to say.

  Bethany, for her part, gave Jackson a disapproving look and said, “Try to find one who will teach you to read. I need someone to help with my paperwork.”

  Jackson rolled his eyes, but motioned for her to leave with him. “The King awaits.”

  “Yes, because I’m always known for rushing to the presence of a Taftlin king.” But, she went all the same. Bethany gave Lendra a good-bye smile and walked off to Jon Black Crow’s home. There, Arrago had set up his throne, as it were.

  She walked in, and inclined her head in greeting. “You asked to see me. Majesty.” She choked out the last word.

  Arrago was standing at the window, looking out. He turned and said, “Everyone, leave.”

  The guards bowed their heads and left. Most of them were, in fact, Knights that Bethany had assigned to Arrago until he could train his own guard. The guards inside the room nodded their heads and left, shutting the door behind them. Bethany stood near the entrance, staring at him. His hair was pulled back in a braid, but he still wore his usual worn leather trousers and loosen brown tunic. A fire roared in the room, though, and a bottle of wine sat on Arrago’s desk.

  Royalty looked strange on Arrago, yet the high life suited him. Arrago walked around to his desk and leaned against it. He rested his hands behind him, holding on to the desk as if it was about to fly away. Bethany’s muscled tightened. She knew she was not going to like what was coming. Bethany knew what was coming. She’d seen enough political maneuvering to know what Arrago had to do and she prepared herself for it.

  “You look well,” Bethany said.

  “Kiner pulled the arrow head out of my shoulder. I think he was rougher than necessary.”

  Bethany gave a slight shrug of her shoulder and said, “Kiner’s never really liked you all that much. I don’t know why not.”

  “Kiner doesn’t like me because he’s in love with you.”

  Bethany scoffed. “Ridiculous!”

  Arrago shrugged. “Suit yourself.”

  “Is that why I’m here? To spread rumors about Kiner?” She tried to keep her tone light, but the words came out ghoulish somehow. Kiner. In love with her? What a foolish notion.

  He licked his lips and said, “Bethany, I…you know that I care for you.”

  She didn’t answer him. She already knew what was about to happen, but that didn’t mean she would make it easy on him.

  “I don’t know much about politics, but I do understand enough to know that I need to…I need to make sure…what I’m trying to say is —”

  “You’ve asked Her Grace to marry you.”

  Arrago looked up at her. “How did you know?”

  “I’m not stupid,” Bethany’s voice cracked and she cleared her throat. “I understand how it works.”

  “I am so sorry.”
Tears welled up in his eyes and he stepped toward her. He took her hands and said, “If there was any other way…”

  She pulled her hands from his grasp, and looked down and the clean floor. They really pulled out the stops for the royalty here. “Don’t apologize. It’s not necessary. I’m glad we could work together.” Her voice began to crack. “I request to stay in Taftlin until the spring, then we will move west to the coast.”

  “Bethany…”

  “Lord Allric is expected to arrive with part of our rebuilt fleet. We plan to launch an assault against the rebels still in the Islands.”

  “Bethany, stop.”

  She kept going as if he’d never spoken. “With the historical animosity between Taftlin –”

  “For Apexia’s sake, shut up, Bethany!”

  “I think we should tread carefully with forming any new alliance.” Tears trickled from her eyes. Stupid tears. She never cried before this asshole entered her life.

  He grabbed her arm and she winced from pain when his fingers pressed against the healing wounds.

  “Get your hand off me,” Bethany said, strength coming back into her voice. “You might be a king, but you don’t get to lay hands on me whenever you want.”

  He removed his grasp and said, “Please, don’t be angry with me.”

  Bethany closed her eyes and fought against the stinging, welling moisture. She would not let him see her sob. She would not break down. She would be strong. “I am not angry at you. I understand, Arrago, perhaps more than you even do. I knew from the start that you would never end up in my bed. Marry your princess and be happy.”

  But, he ran his hand along the scarred side of her face and the memories of being in her bedroom with him, hours after a Magi disfigured her, rushed back. How he kissed her. How she had wanted it. How much she loved him.

  And, she loved him still.

  Her chin quivered.

  Her heart scattered.

  She would conquer this.

  “Bethany,” he repeated, his words husky, rich, “I love you. Please, just this once, stop being such a stubborn bitch.”

  Even as a hot remark flashed through her mind, she gulped down the urge to speak it. She could feel her resolve fading. What was the point to kill every single Magi if she couldn’t even enjoy one moment of her life? She lost the battle. Tears streamed down her face. She squeezed her eyes shut, failing to stop the flow of her true feelings down her own cheeks.

  His strong, comforting arms wrapped around her and he pressed himself against her, holding her, comforting her.

  Bethany wept silent tears, her arms hanging limply and stubbornly at her sides. But, her resolve melted when she felt the hot moisture of his own tears dripping down the side of her neck.

  Hesitantly, she lifted her arms and embraced him. He held her tighter.

  The battles were over. The evil king defeated. The Magi cornered. The people liberated. Freedom reigned. The best king Taftlin had ever seen sat on their throne.

  And, there they stood. Broken. There would be no return, Bethany knew. Her innocence was lost. His was destroyed. Her visions had all been fulfilled. Prophecy had been satisfied. It was over.

  Bethany was the first to release from the embrace. She forced a smile, though it came out more as a twitch than anything. “Never forget me.”

  He leaned forward and kissed her lips lightly. Just a sad, soft press of the lips. Her soul broke. Breathing was impossible, so she just held her breath until he pulled away. He looked at her, eyes red, face grim. “I could never forget you.”

  Then, she straightened her back, exhaled, and inclined her head at him. Then, she turned and walked out, not caring who saw her face swollen and red. The love of her life was getting married and there was nothing she would do to stop it.

  She was a soldier. He was a king. The rules would never be the same.

  Chapter Thirty-Nine

  Sacrifice shall be the plight of the Diamond. She will know it in her heart. She is of our making. She will not falter.

  -Prophecy of the Diamond, Second Tablet

  Arrago licked his lips and stared at Celeste. They stood in the ornate bedroom of Sir Eli’s summer home near the border. Her Grace trembled.

  No, his wife trembled. Right, this was his wife. He was a king, and he was married and he was supposed to bed this woman. Now. In front of all these people. Arrago ran a hand through his hair. He would not panic over this.

  “Arrago,” Edmund said, his tone much graver than usual. “You have to do this tonight.”

  “That isn’t my problem,” Arrago growled. He looked over his shoulder and said, “Not in front of what’s left of Taftlin’s nobility.”

  “You have to,” Edmund explained for the fourth time. “Just…just think of Bethany.”

  Celeste glared at Edmund, who looked away, heat rising his in face.

  “You have to. It’s how it’s done with Kings.”

  Arrago blew out a breath. “I don’t think it’ll work, if you get my meaning.”

  “Just rip her clothes off and think of Taftlin.”

  Arrago glared at Edmund before turning around to the group and saying, “Everyone out.”

  “Your Majesty,” protested one baron, a fat, preening man with more gold than fabric on his body, “you must have a witness.”

  “Then Edmund can stay,” Arrago said at once.

  “Not bloody likely,” Edmund muttered.

  Arrago shot him a look. Celeste paled.

  “Even if Sir Edmund wished to be your witness, he cannot. You need a more impartial witness.”

  “Can I have a servant as a witness? Perhaps a female one, for Celeste’s benefit?”

  The barons exchanged glances before they began to nod in agreement. “It’s been done before,” one of them said.

  “What about the girl in the hallway?” Arrago asked. Apexia’s mercy, he did not want to do this. At least in front of one person, he could grit his teeth and lie or pretend. But in front of all these men, most who had stood by Daniel? There was no possible way.

  One of the barons returned with the dirty young thing from the corridor. She bowed her head, but didn’t speak.

  “What’s your name?” Arrago asked. The girl pointed at her mouth. Arrago winced when he realized she had no tongue.

  The girl pointed at the tapestry that hung on the wall.

  “Rose?”

  She nodded.

  “Rose, would you be so kind as to be my witness for my wedding night?”

  She inclined her head, but then turned her attention to Celeste.

  “Of course, I approve of her,” Celeste answered, her voice shaking. “Yes, she can stay.” Arrago thought he saw her shoulders relax with relief.

  Arrago turned to the men standing in his temporary bedchamber and announced, in his best majestic voice, “Thank you. You can go celebrate with the others.”

  They left, including Edmund who turned a last glance at Celeste, his expression grim. Arrago waited for the door to shut before latching it. When he turned around, Celeste was tugging out of her shift, pale fingers shaking so badly that she could not undo the laces.

  Arrago walked to her and took her hands. “Celeste, I won’t hurt you.”

  She nodded. “Yes, Majesty.”

  “Arrago. My name is Arrago.”

  “Yes, Arrago. Of course.” She forced a smile, but it was rather sickly.

  He turned to the servant and said, “Rose, I need your assistance.”

  Rose’s eyes fixed on Celeste’s hard nipples that poked at her shift, then back at him like he was a moron.

  “That’s not what I meant.”

  “Arrago, I will do whatever you need,” Celeste said. “I want this.”

  He stared at her. “I’d believe you more if your eyes weren’t full of tears.”

  She glanced at Rose and said, “Please, Arrago. This is your duty, and mine.”

  “I don’t know you!”

  “After I’ve given you a couple of sons,
you never need to touch me again if that’s what you want. You never even need to look at me again after that.” She reached out a trembling hand. “I know you love Bethany. You can be with her. I won’t stop you, but right now, you need to act like a king.”

  Arrago ran his hand through his hair. She was beautiful, and willing, and…she was not Bethany. His muscles clenched. “Eventually, I can do this, but…I can’t. Not right now.”

  “Please,” Celeste begged, and her voice turned frantic. “You have to. I beg you.”

  Arrago stared at her and asked, “Why?”

  Celeste closed her eyes, but the tears still streamed down her face. He reached out and touched her arm and she shuddered. “Please, let me serve you.”

  “I don’t want anyone to serve me, let alone my own wife. What is going on? Tell me.”

  Rose cleared her throat. Arrago stared as Rose pointed at Celeste’s belly. Arrago snapped his gaze back at her. “You are carrying someone else’s child.” He blew out a breath. “That’s why you are so desperate to have me tonight. It isn’t because of me.”

  “Majesty, please,” Celeste collapsed to her knees. “I beg you. Please.”

  Arrago thought back at Edmund’s attitude and asked, “Whose is it?”

  ****

  Cream sheets with a streak of virgin blood waved like a flag of victory from the second floor balcony. The crowd cheered as Arrago showed them the proof of his manhood, a brimming smile spread across his face.

  Bethany clenched and unclenched her fist and stared at him. She did not join in with the cheers and jeers, nor did she clap. She was happy for him, in her own way. She just…

  Bethany let out a long sigh, staring at the crowd and Arrago. What other outcome did she expect? She’d clearly been spending too much time with Lendra and her hopeful view of romance for all. That wasn’t how the world really worked. Not every ending was happy. Not every ending was full of puppies and rainbows.

  Sometimes, endings were merely beginnings. And she allowed herself to feel the faint pride of knowing she’d once put a monster on the throne and, now, she’d put the best man she’d ever known on that same throne.