To Kill a Kingdom

I consider her for a moment and then raise an eyebrow, because she should know better. Or at least, be aware that I know better.

The legend of Eidyllio says that anyone who touches a member of the royal family will instantly find their soul mate. The secret of Eidyllio, which only the royal families of the hundred kingdoms – and Kye’s family, apparently – are privy to, is a little different. Because the gift, passed down through the women of the family, does not help men find love, but lose their will completely. Overtaken by endless devotion and lust until they become mindless puppets.

I take a seat on the plush sofa opposite the thrones, and Galina drops her hand with a smirk. She leans back and stretches her legs out onto the tiles.

“You came to visit,” Galina says. “Which must mean that you want something.”

“The pleasure of your company.”

Galina laughs. “Neither of us has pleasurable company.”

“The pleasure of your company and a mutually beneficial bargain.”

Galina sits up a little straighter. “A bargain, or a favor? I much prefer favors,” she says. “Especially when they place princes in my debt.”

Sakura’s face flashes across my mind, and I think back to the bargain I made with her. My kingdom, for an end to the siren plague. “I’m in enough debt with royalty,” I say.

“Spoilsport,” Galina teases. “I won’t ask for much. Just a region or two. Perhaps a kiss.”

Usually I entertain this game of cat and mouse for a little longer. Let her toy with me through thinly veiled threats of skin on skin, as though she would ever dare turn me into one of her playthings. On a normal day, we would pretend. I, to be scared she would touch me. And Galina, to be brave enough to consider it. But the truth is, that for all of her faults – and the last I counted, there were many – Galina takes little joy in her abilities. It even caused the king to turn against her when he grew tired of protecting her secret for a marriage that offered no intimacy.

Galina didn’t hold his hand or stand close enough for their skin to touch, nor did she share a bed with him on their wedding night or any other night that followed. They slept at distant ends of the palace, in separate wings with separate servants and ate very much the same way: at opposite edges of a table large enough to seat twenty. It was information we shouldn’t have known, but once the king had a drink, he was more than vocal about such matters.

Unlike her predecessors, Galina has no desire to force love to secure heirs. She didn’t want her husband to slowly lose his mind with devotion, and so instead he slowly lost it to greed. He wanted more than she could offer – her kingdom, if he could – and it resulted in a coup bloodier than most wars.

Since his betrayal, she seems to have chosen a life of even more solitude. There is to be no second husband, she told the other ruling families. I have no interest in being betrayed again or passing my curse on to any children. And so instead she takes in wards from Orfaná, which houses all of the world’s unwanted children.

Not continuing her bloodline is bad enough, but choosing to rule alone has left her country suffering. With Kardiá gaining power, Galina needs someone by her side to do the things her gift prevents her from, like liaise with the people and offer the warmth she has grown too frightened to give. And I need someone who can get me out of my deal with Sakura.

I walk toward the throne and hold out a piece of parchment.

This time, I’m too anxious to play pretend. Galina’s reluctance to remarry tells me all I need to know and, in a fortuitous turn of fate, presents a rather interesting solution to one of my many problems. So rarely does karma grant me such favors.

Galina takes the parchment from me and her eyes scan over the paper, first with a confused frown and then with an intrigued smirk. It’s exactly the sort of reaction I was hoping for.

“Prince Elian,” she says. “How did you get your hands on something like this?”

I take a step forward, as close as I can get without risking my sanity. “From the same place you can get everything you’ve ever wanted.”

THINGS WERE GOING SMOOTHLY. Or rather, they had screwed themselves into a great mess, and I was getting closer to pressing out the wrinkles. Galina played coy, but there was undeniable thirst in her eyes that gave me hope. Mutually beneficial, she mused, quoting my words back to me.

Her support would mean one less thing to think about on this impossible mission. And with Lira finally off my ship, I’ve also got one less person to worry about trusting. All in a day’s work.

I struggle to get Lira’s face out of my mind as I walk through the sparse Eidyllion streets. When I returned the seashell, there had been an odd look in her eyes. Like I was idiotic and wonderful at the same time. Like I was a fool and she was glad for it.

I take in a long breath and press my palms to my eyes, trying to blot out the sleep. When she told me that the Sea Queen had taken revenge on her family, it seemed sincere enough, and the compass, though unsteady, had pointed north just the same. Still, I haven’t been able to shake the feeling that something isn’t right. That no matter what truths she may give, there are lies hidden within.

I stroll across the abandoned market street, which is thick with pastry crumbs. The night is warm and sweet, even with the moon blanketing the sky. The stars here are clearer than in most kingdoms, and it’s a struggle for me to keep walking. Not to stand and marvel at them. Lie on the cobblestone and think about their stories, the way I do aboard the Saad.

I head toward the Serendipity. We stay there each time we dock in Eidyllio, because it’s an inn and a tavern, and there are few things that can’t be solved with both sleep and rum. As I make my way there, a symphony of footsteps trails behind my own. I slow my pace and slip into a nearby alley marked by abandoned trader stools. It’s thin, and a line of stars hangs overhead like streetlamps.

I push myself against the wall, feeling warm brick against my back. The footsteps become uncertain, searching. There’s a small moment of trepidation, when the world goes quiet and all I hear is a low gasp of wind. Then the footsteps follow me into the alley.

I don’t wait for my attacker to strike. I step out of the darkness, hand poised over my knife. Ready to gut whoever would be stupid enough to try to jump the captain of the Saad.

A girl stands, half in the shadows, dark red hair clinging to her cheeks. When she sees me, she hooks her hands over her hips, exasperated. Her eyes flood through me like poison.

“Why are you hiding?” Lira asks. “I was trying to follow you.”

I let out a long breath and sheathe my knife. “I’m pretty sure I got rid of you already.”

Lira shrugs, unoffended, and I consider what it would take to get under her skin. She waves off each and every comment like they’re barely an annoyance. As though she has far better things to do than worry about what me or any of my crew thinks.

Lira studies me. “Why do you look like a prince all of a sudden?” she asks.

Alexandra Christo's books