The first few days after the attack had been quiet in the fortress, but soon people from all over Lera began to arrive, after the Olso warriors took the castle and the northern cities. Now the small building was bursting at the seams, libraries and common areas turned into sleeping quarters. Several people walked down the stairway to his left, and they froze at the bottom when they spotted him. He pretended not to notice.
He walked through the foyer and into the small room off the kitchen. Many of the guests gathered in the room every morning, so it had been dubbed “the breakfast room.” Several round tables were scattered about, men and women seated at them. They didn’t have a lot of food, but there were some beans and fish on the tables.
Heads turned as he walked in, voices quieting. He realized he had no idea what this Violet girl looked like.
“I need to speak with Violet?” It came out as a question. He hadn’t learned to speak the way his father did, like every sentence was a command.
A slight young woman in a plain black dress stood. Her dark hair was pulled back in a bun, accenting her high cheekbones and large, dark eyes. She appeared tired, but she smiled at Cas. She looked vaguely familiar.
“Here, Your Majesty.” Despite her short stature, her voice easily carried across the room. She walked to him.
The wagon. He’d been put in a wagon with the staff the night his father died and the castle was taken. That was how he knew her. She’d helped him escape.
“I know you. Splinters in odd places,” he said, repeating the words she’d said to him as she helped him slip out a crack in the wagon.
She let out an embarrassed laugh. “That was me, Your Majesty.”
Everyone in the room was staring at them, and he spun on his heel, gesturing for her to follow him.
There was no place indoors he felt comfortable speaking privately, so he led her outside, to the back of the fortress. The building was still missing a portion of the rear wall since a Ruined had destroyed it, and he walked far enough away that they couldn’t be overheard. To his left, a few staff members were tending to the garden, but they were out of earshot.
“I heard you were sick,” he said as he stopped and turned to Violet.
“Yes. The conditions in the wagon were …”
“Terrible,” he said, a wave of guilt crashing over him. He’d managed to save the staff he abandoned in the wagon, but it took several days. He couldn’t imagine being stuck in that hot, stuffy wagon for so long. He didn’t know how many had died, but it was too many.
“I never got a chance to thank you,” she said. “For saving us. We know Jovita wanted you to leave us, and we all appreciate what you did.”
“Of course. I couldn’t just abandon you.”
“Yes, you could have.” She held his gaze as she spoke. “I haven’t introduced myself properly. Violet Montero. My father was the governor of the southern province.”
“I heard. Why didn’t you identify yourself in the wagon?”
“It didn’t seem all that important. What would you have done with that information?”
She had a point. He could barely think straight in the wagon. His father had just died and he’d still been reeling about Em. Violet could have told him she’d suddenly sprouted three extra heads and he probably would have simply shrugged.
“There are people here who know me,” she said. “If you’d like to confirm.”
“I would. Can’t blame me, can you?” After Emelina pretended to be the princess of Vallos and his fiancée, he’d likely never take anyone’s identity at their word ever again.
“No, I can’t.”
“Why didn’t we meet in the castle?” he asked.
“I’d just arrived when the attack happened. I was going to come to the wedding, but my grandmother was ill and I was taking care of her.”
“I’m sorry about your father,” he said.
“Yours too.”
“Is your mother still alive?” His breath hitched in his throat, and he focused on a spot past her shoulder.
“No. She died a few years ago.”
“Are you the eldest child?”
“The only.”
“Then you’ve inherited the southern province.” He meant for the words to sound congratulatory, but they came out weary instead. He wondered if she was as thrilled to inherit the southern province as he was to inherit the throne.
“I have. I heard you were going to meet with advisers soon, and I thought I should be included.”
“You should. The south is the only province that hasn’t been taken over by Olso.”
“It is.” She said it with pride.
A powerful wind swept over them. Violet pulled her arms against her chest as her dress flapped in the cold breeze. She didn’t shiver, even though she must have been freezing.
“Have you spoken with Jovita yet?” he asked carefully.
“No, Your Majesty.”
“You can call me Cas.” He didn’t let anyone but Galo and Jovita call him Cas, but he knew how important this girl was. He needed her as an ally. As a friend. He glanced at the fortress and took a step closer to her. “Will you tell me if Jovita tries to speak with you? About anything?”
Violet drew her eyebrows together. “Is something wrong?”
“No. My cousin isn’t very fond of me at the moment. I’d like to know I have you on my side if needed.”
“I’m already on your side, Your—Cas.”
At least someone was. “Thank you, Violet.”
THREE
OLIVIA LIFTED HER head to the sky and took in a long breath. The sun had just come up, but it was hidden behind dark clouds. A chilly wind blew her dark hair across her face. After a year locked in a Lera dungeon, every breath of fresh air was a gift.
She plopped down in the middle of the rubble that used to be her home. She hadn’t believed that the castle was completely gone. Olivia had thought there would be walls still standing, chests of her mother’s clothes to sift through. But the fire had burned everything. The humans’ fear had destroyed everything, precisely as her mother said it would.
She nudged a blackened piece of wood aside to reveal a white eye and a nose peeking out at her. The statue of Boda. She grabbed it to find only half of her head was left. Olivia must have been sitting in the remains of the library. The statue of the ancestor had stood in the corner since Wenda Flores became queen.
Olivia closed her eyes, the image of her mother taking shape in her mind. Her long dark hair was often loose, flying behind her as she zipped around the castle. She wore lavish dresses even when there was no occasion, and Olivia would always associate the sound of skirts swishing with her mother.
She tossed the statue head aside. Her mother’s favorite ancestor had done nothing to save her, in the end. If anyone was going to save the Ruined, it was going to be Olivia.
“Liv.”
Olivia turned to see Em walking to her. Olivia could sense humans and Ruined around her, even at great distances. But not Em. Em wasn’t human or Ruined. She was the only person in the world who could sneak up on Olivia.