I shook my head. “First we leave. Then we’ll discuss what to do next.”
His mouth folded down, but he nodded. “Very well.”
The ishru packed in a flurry while I dressed, and from the small room where my clothes were, I heard voices raised. My heart tightened, and I finished dressing, winding a length of purple fabric around my head to make a hood—for as long as I could, I wanted to hide my face, and hide the marks that my husband had put there.
I opened the door to find my brother leaning casually in the doorframe, facing out, his arms crossed over his chest, standing between me and the rest of the room.
“Kai?” I whispered.
“The queen does not wish to—” Zeph was saying, but Calix tried to push past him and Theron.
“I will cut off your hands if you keep me from my wife,” Calix snarled.
“Don’t do that,” Kairos murmured, even before I moved around him, fury rising within me.
“I have had enough of your threats,” I yelled at Calix, standing well behind Zeph and Theron where I could see him without being close to him. Kairos crossed in front of me like a cat, noting the distance, his hands inching near his scimitar. He was wearing the second one now, something desert men usually only did in war. “How dare you fault these men for protecting me when you assaulted me?”
“Shalia, I need to speak to you without them here,” he told me.
Shame and anger made my throat thick around my words. “Why?” I asked. “You don’t think they know what you did?”
“Shalia, you have to see, it’s not my fault. It’s your family, your damn brother, they come between us at every turn!”
Kairos crossed his arms. “Which brother would that be?” he asked.
“Both of you,” Calix snarled back at him.
Kairos smiled. “There are more where we came from, you know. All sorts of brothers getting in your way. Imagine what my littlest sister could do.”
Calix’s eyes narrowed on him.
“Is that what you think?” I whispered, trembling. “You believe that my family made you strike me? Made you hate the Elementae, made you gouge the eyes out of that guard, made you—you are cruel, Calix,” I cried. “You’re cruel. My family had nothing to do with that. You would rather demean and maim and … and kill people than truly work for peace.”
“No?” he asked. “Rian has undermined me at every turn. It was him, you know. Him who stole her from me. He has always sought to steal what’s mine. But you, my wife—I love you despite these things. I love you and our child more than anything, and I was a fool to be blinded by your brother’s treachery. Please don’t go. Please let me make this up to you.”
I was trembling, but I shook my head.
“You’re weak, and tired,” he said. “You’re not in any condition to be traveling.”
“I can’t look at you,” I told him, my voice full of steel and ice. Even the light movement of my cheek burned. “I can’t stay here. I can’t listen to you and these awful things anymore. I can’t keep crying because my face is swollen and sore, and I just want to stop hurting so much, Calix.”
He didn’t say anything, and I looked to Zeph. “Please,” I said. “We should leave.”
He nodded once, and he and Theron shifted so Zeph could lead me out and Theron could block Calix.
“Shalia!” Calix shouted, and I flinched away from him. He looked shocked by this, but Kairos put his arm around me, blocking my view of my husband, and shepherded me out.
By the time I reached the courtyard, ten guards, my brother, and my belongings were waiting for me. A saddled horse stood, flicking his tail restlessly, and I hesitated as I got close. Usually I didn’t have any problem getting into the saddle, but I felt weak and shaky still; I didn’t think my muscles would hold.
“Here,” Galen said, appearing from behind me. I jumped, and he glanced at my face and the purple cloth that covered it, but he looked away before he could have truly seen beneath the hood. He knitted his fingers together and held them out.
My heart beat faster as I watched him, but he didn’t lift his eyes to me, just staring at my foot, which wasn’t moving toward his hand.
He cleared his throat, and I raised my foot, putting it into his hands.
I grabbed the saddle and he pushed me up, raising me high and fast so I could mount the horse. “Thank you,” I said, my heart racing.
He nodded sharply and went toward another horse.
Kairos saw Calix before I did, and he moved his horse between me and the wide entrance to the castle. Osmost leaped off Kairos’s shoulder to take to the sky, like he was as ready to defend me as my brother was.
Standing in the archway in his black clothing, Calix looked small and insignificant, like an insect. But I couldn’t help the shiver within me.
“I will give you two days, wife,” he called. “If you don’t return before that, I will bring you back.”
“It will take longer,” Galen said, walking toward him, standing at the bottom of the walkway. “We’re going to Trizala.”
I blinked, looking at him. He was coming with us?
Calix came slowly down the walkway, and I felt every step closer to me like a growing threat. “Pick another city.”
“She’ll like Trizala,” Galen said. “We’ll be back in three days at the earliest.”
Calix glared at his brother. “Fine.”
“Oh, and, Calix?” Galen said, closing the several feet between them. Calix looked at him, and Galen drew his arm back, launching his fist into his brother’s jaw. Calix stumbled back and Galen turned away, shaking out his fist as he went to his horse and mounted it.
Calix straightened and watched me as he wiped blood from his mouth. “I love you, wife. Don’t forget that.”
I turned away.
Galen called for the gates to be opened, and he led us out, guards ahead of me and behind, and Zeph and Theron both exhausted on either side of me.
We rode through the city, Galen keeping a slow pace as we passed a few people, who all shied away from the sight of so many men. It wasn’t long before the cluster of the city faded into farmland, and the road was wider, and we still rode slowly.
“Is there a reason we’re going so slow?” I asked Zeph. Osmost was making lazy circles in the sky, searching for prey, lacking a challenge.
Zeph’s jaw rolled a bit. “I believe out of concern for your health, my queen.”
I pushed my shoulders back. “Then if it’s out of concern for me, we can go much, much faster,” I told him.
“My queen—” he started, but I wheeled my horse to the side of the column and spurred the stallion onward.
Every jarring hammer of the horse’s hooves felt like power, like strength, like something solid and whole. My heart beat stronger with the effort, and I craved it just to remember what it felt like to have my heart race with something other than fear.