Crown of Feathers (Book 2 of the Crown Trilogy)

Thirty-Six

Kyron and I march to the sanctuary side by side with our family and friends behind us. We don't exchange words, silently digesting what's to come. The Allaji have strategically attacked us at every turn. They made their intentions clear at Kyron's anointment and proved their strength at Basecamp. The shifters attacked Lucent, setting out to kill our king, and did just that. I have to wonder what their purpose is in returning Esmeray because my gut tells me something isn't right.

We make our way through the security tunnel and enter the holy place through the back hall. The rhythmic tap of footsteps echoes around us as we pass the meditation rooms. This area of the sanctuary was designed for all to come and find a moment of peace. Yet the closer we get to the main room, the more my stomach rolls in protest. Every instinct is screaming at me to grab Kyron's hand and pull him back the way we came. I push past my unease and step a little closer to my parah, hoping an ounce of his bravery will rub off on me.

Kyron glances down and reassuringly nods at me. It is an insignificant gesture which fills me with more confidence. If he believes all will end well, then so will I.

We pass through the final archway and the dais comes into view. I scan the room for anything or anyone out of the ordinary, but find nothing. Stigian warriors stand guard throughout the sanctuary, in their black armor and with stoic expressions. If they are glad for the return of their queen, it is impossible to tell.

Esmeray sits on her white throne, her back straight and hands folded in her lap. Her black eyes speckled with green follow our every move, and her red painted lips remain in a tight line. She doesn't appear harmed, in fact, she looks as elegant as ever. Her black hair is pulled into a full, sleek bun with a golden crown resting around it. The midnight blue dress she wears hugs her curves and plunges deep between her cleavage, showing off what I'm sure she believes to be one of her many assets. Her nails are manicured and her makeup is impeccable. If I didn't know better, I'd think she was on holiday and not kidnapped.

Standing next to the queen is Zek. His gaze is just as intense as Esmeray's, but he has a slight quirk to his lips. I don't doubt he is proud of himself for escaping the clutches of our enemy and returning the Stigian queen. He also looks extremely well for spending almost a month in captivity, wearing a brown leather jacket and matching riding boots. His golden hair curls at his temples and his blue eyes glint with amusement. My friend hasn't changed much since I last saw him, and it gives me a sense of relief.

Kyron and I reach the front of the dais, and he falls to one knee and bows his head. "I'm glad you are home safe, Your Majesty."

"As am I, son."

I clasp my hands in front of me and tilt my chin a little higher. "You look well considering your ordeal," I say.

Esmeray locks her gaze onto me and tilts her head to the side. "As do you, Queen Raelle. I expected to find you still in mourning for my brother. I heard his death was gruesome."

I stiffen, my features hardening and my skin heating. My words are clipped as I say, "I assure you; I will always mourn my godfather and king. I see his death has little impact on you."

"He was my twin brother; of course his death affects me. But he made his choices long ago and severed the tie we had as siblings. I find it difficult to mourn for my enemy."

Borin shifts behind me and mumbles, "Wretched bitch."

I lift my hand, gesturing for him to remain calm. Micah warned me that his sister enjoys getting a reaction.

"He was your ally at the time of his death, fighting a war to save both of your kingdoms. The least you can do is show a little gratitude," I say.

With every cell in my body, I hate the woman before me. She is nothing compared to her brother. Where Micah was warm and compassionate, she is cold and indifferent. The king was a leader who asked nothing of his people he wouldn't do himself. Esmeray rules through manipulation and fear. Micah was light, and she is an infectious inky darkness.

"Interesting," Esmeray says, slinking out of her throne. With graceful steps, she paces the width of the dais and looks at the stained-glass windows. "You want me to show gratitude to a man who tore our kingdom apart with his self-righteousness? A man who was sacrificing our people because he was unwilling to take a risk to end our conflict with the Allaji."

"He was doing everything he could to keep both of our people safe," I say, the calm in my voice replaced with anger.

"He was a coward!"

Those gathered behind me stir. She has no regard for the death of our king, for the admiration each person here had for Micah. They hiss their disapproval while their bodies tremble in anger.

"Calm yourself, Mother," Kyron says, climbing the stairs and holding out his hand to her.

She glares at him, and her nostrils flare. "Do not tell me to calm myself. And it would serve you well to remember which kingdom's crown sits upon your head and which queen you serve."

He drops his arm to his side and casts a dark stare her way. "I know which queen I serve."

Esmeray cocks a sculpted brow. "Let's hope you have chosen the right one."

Everything is spinning out of control. I didn't expect to walk into the sanctuary and find Esmeray a broken version of herself. She is too strong willed for that. But I didn't think things would escalate the way they have. This isn't the time to dredge up old grudges. We still have a war to win, and Esmeray and Zek may have some useful information.

Despite my ever-growing hatred for the Stigian queen, I offer her a kindness. "I'm sorry we could not return you home sooner. Kyron and the others worked night and day to locate you. It couldn't have been easy being their captive."

She bursts into laughter, void of humor. "Aren't you precious? Do you really think I spent all this time sulking and doing nothing? I will never rely on someone else to save me." She saunters down the stairs, brushing past Kyron, and stopping when we are face to face. "A word of advice from one queen to another. Don't wait for someone else to save you. Everyone will let you down at some point."

It isn't completely an unsound notion. I set off to the sibyl's temple after Kyron's betrayal to learn to fend for myself and find the answers I needed. It was imperative to my rule that I have faith in all my abilities. I can wield a sword and control the gifts of others. My years of training have taught me the ins and outs of ruling, and spending time working and fighting with my people has given me insight into what they need to better their lives. But no matter how hard I try, I will always lack in so many traits. That's why I surround myself with people who make up for my deficiencies. People who make me a stronger queen.

More of the anger I have for Esmeray vanishes and pity takes its place. What a lonely existence she must have. "I appreciate your efforts to help, but I think I'll pass. However, I am interested in hearing how relying on yourself resulted in the Allaji returning you and Zek home."

A wicked smile pulls her red lips up and her eyes gleam with excitement. Her next words are methodical, spoken in a steady, low voice. "I negotiated a new treaty. One which gives them and me what we both want."