Vestai Nikan brought us to his stronghold, tucked into the mountains. The rooms were all carved stone, cool and dark, and walking into them, I felt my power bubbling around me. Not triggered or pulled, nothing to do with me—just preexisting and natural.
Zeph and Theron went into my chamber while I waited in the hall. Galen stood across from me, close enough that our feet were nearly touching, and Kai wandered up and down the hall, restless, looking at everything.
“What will we do here?” I asked, glancing around. “In my rush to leave, I hadn’t thought what I would actually be doing.”
“Whatever you wish,” Galen told me. “I would recommend addressing the people at some point. Vestai Nikan is planning a feast in your honor tomorrow night.”
I nodded. “Thank you,” I told him.
Galen didn’t look at me. “Of course.” Zeph emerged and nodded, Theron coming out a moment behind him. “Secure?” Galen asked.
“Yes, sir. My queen,” Zeph said, gesturing me into the room.
“You’re not going to stay here, are you?” I asked them.
“Kairos and I will sleep next door,” Galen told me. “But yes, they will absolutely stay here.”
“They haven’t slept, and they’ve been riding all day. Can’t one of the others stay here?” I asked.
“Theron will sleep and I’ll watch over you, my queen,” Zeph told me. “I’ll be fine waiting until tomorrow.”
“But you won’t be sharp,” Kairos said. “I’ll stay the night, and then I’ll sleep during the day tomorrow while Shy performs whatever queenly duties she must.”
Zeph frowned.
“Very well,” Galen said. “Just for tonight.”
Kairos stepped closer to my door, and the muscles of Zeph’s arms tightened. “My queen,” he said, looking at the ground. “I won’t offer you an apology. I don’t deserve your forgiveness, and you shouldn’t give it to me. But please know that I will regret failing you for the rest of my days,” he said.
“There’s nothing to forgive,” I told him. “You couldn’t have changed anything that happened yesterday.”
“My queen—” Theron started.
I held up a hand. “I grew up with six brothers. Five of whom were older than me.”
“I’m aware,” Kairos said drily.
I gave him a look. “I understand that I’m bruised, and that you all care very much about my safety and my health. You care about chivalry and what a woman may or may not deserve. And I treasure that. Your concern means a great deal to me. But your guilt isn’t about me, or my body, or my pain. It’s about Calix, and it’s about you seeing me as a thing that needs to be protected, like I shattered when he h-hit me.”
They all looked at me as my voice failed me for a moment, and I pressed my lips together, trying to stop more unwanted emotions from rushing out.
“I don’t want to feel broken. I don’t want to give him that power. Calix did not—and will never—break me. So don’t apologize, and if you must feel guilty, then share that with someone other than me. Do you understand?”
They all nodded grimly.
“I hope this is the last we have to discuss it,” I told them.
Zeph nodded, nudging the others away. He, at least, understood when he was dismissed.
Galen glanced at me and turned away, following my guards. Kairos slipped inside my room before I could shut the door.
I shut it behind him with a sigh. He went to the windows, gazing out into the darkness, looking at the windows themselves. “Well,” he said. “We should be able to get pretty far before they realize you’re gone.” He turned back to me. “If we’re leaving.”
Drawing a breath, I shook my head slowly. “We can’t leave, Kairos. Or I can’t leave. But I think you should go back to the desert.”
He snorted. “Like hell,” he said. “Why would I ever leave you alone after all that’s happened?”
“Because he won’t hurt me the way he’ll hurt you,” I said, squeezing my hands together, trying to stop the trembles that came anyway.
“I swore a promise,” he said, crossing his arms. “I’ll make him regret what he’s done to you.”
“No,” I said, looking at him. “No. This,” I said, fingering the bruise on my face, “is a distraction. Yesterday Calix proved that he’s not interested in peace. Maybe he’s interested in submission; maybe he wants war. Maybe he doesn’t care. But I still want peace, Kairos.”
He lifted his shoulders. “How can you get it if he doesn’t want it?”
“That’s what I need to figure out. But it is not so simple as running back to the desert—or anywhere—when he still has men there. We cannot risk more lives.” I looked out the window, into the dark that was dotted with torchlight in a strange pattern. “The greater question is whether peace can ever be achieved with Calix as king.”
He drew a long breath. “Rian believes it can’t.”
I tucked my hands around myself, rubbing warmth into my arms. “And if I believe that, then it would make sense to join Rian. To help the Resistance.”
Kairos’s eyes flicked to the wall, reminding me that my guards were likely next door, not to mention my husband’s brother. “Have you considered other options?”
I looked to him. “Such as?”
“Waiting until your child is born, and then removing Calix.”
I shuddered, shaking my head.
He looked at me, and he appeared so much older suddenly. “None of these options will let him live, Shalia. If he lives, then there will be no peace.”
I thought of Galen, of seeing every face of every soldier and choosing their deaths and calling it peace.
“Besides, you may not have that long,” Kairos said. “Your power is growing stronger. It seems like it’s harder for you to control it. If he ever sees it, baby or not, your choices—if not your life—will be taken away.”
I nodded. “I know.”
“The desert can repel the Trifectate men who are there. It would only take a note from Osmost, and it would be done. We could run right now.”
I shook my head. “No. It’s rash, and it’s risky. Besides, Galen and the Saepia will pay the price for it. I won’t bring that on their heads after all they’ve done for me. I need more time to think. That’s why we came here,” I told him.
His mouth drew tight, but he didn’t disagree with me. “Very well.”
“Do you know if Rian is safe?” I asked.
He shook his head. “No. But we would have heard by now if he wasn’t.”
I sighed. “I suppose.”
He came forward and kissed my cheek. “Good night, Shy.”
After everything that happened, it wasn’t my husband hitting me that haunted my dreams. It was the attack in the Tri City, seeing the soldier hack into the man’s arm without cutting it off completely. A gaping wound with a geyser of blood.
In my dream it sprayed all over me, hot and soaking my hair, my skin, my clothes.
I woke up with a scream, and Kairos was in the room before I was fully awake, his double swords unsheathed and ready. Shaking my head, I told him, “A dream.”
“I’ll stay in here until you fall asleep,” he told me.