Book four, p.1
Book Four, page 1
Copyright © 2023 by Blanka H. Madow All rights reserved
No part of this book may be reproduced or used in any manner without written permission of the copyright owner except for the use of quotations in a book review.
For more information, contact blanka@blankahmadow.com
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, locales, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.
First edition
To my daughter,
You make dark days shine.
Thank you for finally being interested in my stories.
Love mama
Contents
CHAPTER 1
CHAPTER 2
CHAPTER 3
CHAPTER 4
CHAPTER 5
CHAPTER 6
CHAPTER 7
CHAPTER 8
CHAPTER 9
CHAPTER 10
CHAPTER 11
CHAPTER 12
CHAPTER 13
CHAPTER 14
CHAPTER 15
CHAPTER 16
CHAPTER 17
CHAPTER 18
CHAPTER 19
CHAPTER 20
CHAPTER 21
CHAPTER 22
CHAPTER 23
CHAPTER 24
CHAPTER 25
AVIELES
CHAPTER 1
DRIED SHRUBS FILLED THE misshapen glass vase sitting atop a mantle in Valeri’s room. The colors didn’t blend into each other. Instead, lines fused them—clearly visible where one ended and the other began.
The room was a constant reminder that my sister would come back. She was here before me and embodied more than I could ever live up to.
The room desperately needed the late spring air, but the magic could blow the vase over and the dried foliage if I opened the window. What a shame that would be.
I sighed.
Death remained ever present, and the dust on the mantel around her trinkets was the only reminder she wasn’t here. I was.
Glancing at the dusty papers by the bedside, I struggled to imagine the Valeri I knew with the one who willingly read, learned, and grew here.
My novels could never compare to the magical air that sprung flowers to bloom here. Blossoms covered even the mountain, which was pure rock, but still, they jutted out of every crevice. Quite the opposite of what the inside of the tower presented.
I hated it.
I missed my dark earth, where I had to struggle to see one pumpkin flower. Even the hardship existed as a memory I wanted to reclaim. The hard part would be over now; the dreaded winter, where salt predominated our sustenance, would be receding completely. Soon, the typically crooked vegetables and fruits would spring. Even small morsels helped keep the fish down; a luxury I longed to feel grateful for. Any vegetable was better than salty fish. Even the ones I wasn’t fond of… eggplant.
“It’s time,” Rulin said as he stepped into the room with the vial in hand—the horrid potion I had to drink every morning to keep me alive here. A concoction of, I would guess, my least favorite vegetables, but probably flora, were all mixed into a brown liquid.
I reached out my hand as he looked over the room. The unnatural sparkle of magic swirled in his eyes, even as he struggled to suppress it. The magic.
The tower used to be Valeri’s home. A home away from me. This was where she spent her time, tried to save me, and awakened her powers in the process. She had given so much of herself in my favor while I perished in Noor. It seems her will to save me kept us both alive, and I shouldn’t forget it. Not that I could in a castle that preserved her memory down to the petal.
I opened the vial and scrunched my nose at the stench. Dried leaves mixed with dirt and onions. I gagged at the thought of drinking it, but I suppressed the reaction. Even my skin seeped the stench. I drank it in one go. Coughing as it burned my throat.
Rulin looked over the room, and I had the urge to ask him to change it. To change at least one detail. Her belongings, perhaps? There were many empty rooms all around the castle, but I wanted this one to be occupied by anyone, to erase the past. Why was it still here, anyway? Was he keeping it in hopes of her returning? The only reason I didn’t ask was because the answer terrified me. What if he said no to my requests? What would it mean? What would it confirm?
What confused me the most was how much I liked the tower. Not only for the magnificent appearance but for the connection I received here. I saw another side of my sister. I could imagine how she spent her days and how she gazed out the window at the ocean. Scheming how to get back home—to me. None of that mattered now. I needed the room gone to feel connected to my mate. My husband, my king. If our partnership had any chance of being nurtured, the past had to be purged.
Ever since we bonded and confirmed what we already knew, that we weren’t kindred souls, it was harder each day. He believed that because humans didn’t have their true eye colors presented that we would be mates. And when it didn’t happen, he lost all hope of me being an equal partner. His love. That was why this room didn’t help. It was a constant reminder of the one that got away; the one worthy. Even though she wasn’t his kindred soul, either, at least she had powers. Many of them. And I have nothing to offer him in return for our bond not being true.
“We must go,” he spoke. Our conversations shortened day by day.
I followed him in silence. My golden dress swooshed with each step, and it was a slight comfort in this cold palace. Something Rulin probably also held against me. He had to use less and less magic here for me to survive. The dress taunted me to wear it through the cold months. This one had straps that tied on my shoulders. Big bows provided enough fabric to have my shoulders covered and warmed. The square neckline, however, was more revealing. And I liked it. I liked how Rulin noticed. If he didn’t love me that much, and if I wasn’t powerful enough, I still had something he desired.
I looked at the ocean as we passed each window. I could only imagine life on the other side. When the wall shattered and the magic spread, everything changed. Here and possibly there—across the ocean. Would they feel the change yet?
Truthfully, I didn’t know if I would’ve liked the wall to stay, but I knew what Rulin would’ve wanted. Even with having me here. A human. I’m certain he wanted the wall to remain and for me to be a witch. Which disappointed him more, I wasn’t sure. But now the time to think about other humans on Emerda had come, and how we could help them infiltrated my mind daily.
Conversations about movement had begun between our kingdoms. Our kingdoms. My sister and I were both queens. I laughed to myself. The younger me would’ve loved the idea of being queen. But now it seemed like a nightmare caught in reality. No escape. No air.
What did Valeri do to awaken her powers? I knew partially because of torture. I even asked Rulin to try the same, but he didn’t want to discuss it. He wasn’t too eager to befriend new priestesses and proclaim them to their roles. Not since his father, the late King Kian, placed too much of his trust in them only for the priestesses to have a secret agenda. To rule them all.
Another chill ran through me. I rubbed my forearms, thinking about wearing long sleeves again. This dress was beautiful, and I couldn’t wait for warmer months to wear it, but it never seemed warm enough for me.
The opulent dining room shone today. The golden marble walls matched my dress. The sunrise from outside beamed at all the flowers. They were cut and placed in various beautiful vases on our table. Even in the corners where servants used to stand every day. Unlike the ones in Valeri’s room, those flowers were alive.
He sat on the opposite side of me as usual. “Is there any news?” I asked in hopes of connecting. Not just to him but to my continent as well. The people there never did anything for me, but it didn’t seem fair that I sat on a throne and they stayed oblivious in their suffering.
“There are more sightings of Enemus venturing outside of their caves, but nothing we can’t handle.”
“And the Salvantia Kingdom?” I didn’t want to ask about my sister directly.
Valeri kept me informed enough about her well-being through our spelled encounters. Nicholai had recovered quickly after the destruction of the wall. She was queen now and… with child. Already… They hadn’t wasted a moment since bonding. As much as we talked and shared, mention of our kingdoms remained nonexistent. Completely ignoring the biggest parts of our lives for a strained conversation about meaningless affairs often felt tedious. I wish it didn’t have to be so, but with our personalities, it was best to keep our opinions and tempers at bay.
“What about them?” he asked, taking a sip of his awful-smelling tea. Green colored. I couldn’t stomach any more earthy concoctions after my daily potion.
“How are they dealing with the aftermath? And how are the arrangements for peace coming along?” I asked, pretending to not be that interested while my insides twisted in anticipation of any new information. I wanted to know everything. Be included in every deal, but Rulin thought better of it. I was a human village girl who knew nothing about leading a kingdom. So instead of biting my nails as I usually would, I occupied my hands and picked up the icy metal saucer—ornately decorated with flowers fit for spring. I poured the scalding hot liquid into my metal cup, a perfect match for spring too. The smell of cranberries filled the air, but it barely lingered against Rulin’s green distraction. A t least the color looked delicate.
“I don’t really care how they are dealing,” his rushed words drew my attention back to him and his rigid posture revealed he cared more than he liked to admit, “And our conversations are coming along. There will be some changes in the upcoming months. Giving them access to the continent Emerda to sail easily. If they want humans here, they can have them.” A harsh swallow bobbed down his throat. “Either way, we had to lessen our magic usage because of you.”
My fingers reached for something, anything, to lessen the hurt. He didn’t say it viciously, but it still stung. As if a thousand bees came and attacked my heart. “What if I gain my magic?”
“The deal will still stand. There is no use fighting it. But we will also prepare to go to Emerda. The mountain has many crystals. Maybe they will help you.” He took a bite of his overly toasted bread, pointing the rest at me. “How are you doing?” I already knew he wasn’t asking because of my humanity.
I swirled the dark red liquid in my cup and sipped to prolong the moment. “No changes,” I answered with one hand on my belly and focused on my meal—a piece of dry toast, cherry marmalade, and fresh fruit. The topic always made me lose my appetite, so I opted to eat the dried bread.
“Hm,” he exclaimed, and we continued to eat in silence.
Between me not carrying his heir, not having powers, and not having any control in the kingdom, I welcomed the silence. It was our only time together.
He rose from the table, and the chair scraped across the marble floor. He dropped his napkin on the plate, and without another word, he left. The large oak doors swung closed with a dull thud.
I was alone again. I wanted to reach my magic, and most of all, I wanted children. To have this castle filled with screaming kids—if only to escape the silence. But it seems the stars didn’t have a blessing for us, and Rulin had started to believe them. Almost an entire Lunebris season, from the spring’s equal days and nights to summer’s dominion of the sun, had passed. The time didn’t concern me. But he did. Because his lack of trying made it obvious that he’d lost his faith. It didn’t stop me from hoping.
I made my way down to the kitchen, as I did every day after every meal.
“Start with the custard already,” Deva yelled at the boy who stumbled around with rags in a bucket. My lips stretched into a smile anytime I heard her. She was a lively woman, soft around the edges with a kind smile, but her voice boomed off the walls. I carried the beautiful spring tea set, and it rattled on my platter. My laughter didn’t help to still my hands.
“He’s trying his best, Deva.” I smiled at the child and, with a nod of my head in the door’s direction, I told him to leave us.
He bowed as much as he could with the bucket in hand. He already knew when I was down here, he wasn’t needed. The boy deserved rest, not responsibilities. If I had my way. None of my children would work. After all, we had to do it from a young age. It was no way of living. Now Valeri has the chance to make those decisions… if she’ll even realize them.
“Honestly, Amelia, I will go crazy with these kids. How do you have the patience?”
“When you never have something and want it your entire life, you start to cherish any opportunity.” I’d wanted a family my whole life. A husband and children whom I would treat as gold. My mother’s love instilled an unbreakable desire in me. Even though my father had always been distant, I wished for a family of my own. I brought the tea set to the sink. Emptying the leftover liquid before washing it with soap.
“Don’t you want children?” I asked as I brought the set to a nearby counter to dry. Then, I began to polish the silver. My days were empty, so I enjoyed caring for my home, as I did in Noor.
“Some days I do, but then I run into one who isn’t looking in front of himself and change my mind.”
I laughed. While she tried to suppress her giggle, her solid amaranthine-colored eyes crinkled at the corners. I valued her honesty even if it came in the form of a joke. She tried to hide behind those witty remarks, but she never lied. As much as I knew, she hadn’t ever lied to me.
“Seriously, why do they always run and look behind their shoulder as if someone were chasing them?” She swatted a towel in the air, trying to get rid of the fly that flew in with the boy. Ever since the snow melted completely, insects were flying inside all the time, even though there were limited windows. Vents were secured and circulated lots of fresh air to keep the kitchen protected from pests instead.
I didn’t mind. I was used to it in Emerda. Flies everywhere. And we spent our time mostly outside, so it was normal to be attacked. You learn to live with it, but here people become annoyed with small inconveniences. They were used to magic. I sighed inwardly. How wonderful it must be to grow up without the annoyances of human life.
“That is true. A wonder.”
I started preparing the dough for our bread the next day while Deva prepared our lunch. A pie filled with meat and vegetables. Much different from the dinner she had started in the morning. Slowly baked meats and various versions of potatoes and seasonal vegetables. She prepared the meat alone, and I’d be helping her with the rest. She even prepares sweets for after dinner, and every single day was something different. I tried to talk her out of preparing elaborate meals for me and Rulin, but she insisted.
Rulin wasn’t fond of me spending my days here, but I wanted to contribute and not spend my time reading about love stories I had long dreamed of obtaining. After I read through all the sparse novels, I started them again and again. Molanta had more books than I ever imagined possible, but only a few were romances. I had a scarce collection in Emerda too, but I didn’t have a lot of time to read, unlike here. When I grew bored, I wrote my thoughts on scraps of paper I picked up around the castle—like the one stuffed in my corset awaiting its cleansing with flames in the evening.
I turned back to my task, gaining some satisfaction from the work.
When Rulin couldn’t eat with me, I decided to make the meals. If we couldn’t be together, at least we could share this.
After lunch, I made my way up to the dining room again to prepare it for dinner. The remaining servants already knew I wanted to do it. To fill the time without Rulin. Two settings for us both, even though I knew we would be staring into emptiness. I had to eat before my sessions; I needed the strength. Who would’ve thought fishing for magic would be so strenuous? But it was, and I couldn’t wait for Rulin and his dinner.
Placing the silverware correctly, I shivered again. Looking over all the windows, I confirmed they were closed. A draft lingered in the castle, I was sure of it.
Humming had become a necessity in the castle; all the silence disturbed me. Sometimes I wanted them to use magic so I could feel the castle live again. When I came here, it buzzed with life. And now, because of me, it’d died. Magic was used all around. Servants didn’t have any to show freely, but spells and chants helped them throughout the day with mundane tasks—mending the fire, cooking, and setting the tables. I helped out as much as I could so that they didn’t hate me for lessening their magic usage. Even now, there wasn’t a single servant in the dining room. I prepared the final elements of the table setting and stared at it. Only two settings for such a big room. I sighed at the view and went back to my tower for a change of clothing. With the sun that would set soon, I had to change into warmer clothes.
Picking out a sheer overcoat in a similar sunset color, I decided to go over my notes before my lessons.
“Detach from the living,” I murmured while walking up to our sitting room. “Close your eyes.” I did as I said. Now standing in the middle of the tower. “Feel the elements.” The draft returned. “Move with them.” I swayed with the draft. Feeling tipsy. The same as I did on every Lunebris. Or the day after. Swaying. Not having control over my limbs. My joints floated in the air. But didn’t. I frowned.
Run.
My eyes snapped open. Maniacally searching for the sound.
“Who was that?” I asked, the silence deafening. With a quick step, I left the tower and made my way to Rulin’s study. Without dinner. I didn’t feel like eating today.
