A ripple of unrest flickered through Tadeas’s men as he said indignantly, “Peace? What do you know of our peace? The treaty has isolated us, and while you flourished here, we have been left barren.” He looked to Nei. “Your father ruled with an iron fist, limited our sailing routes, our raiding routes, and absolutely under no circumstances were we allowed to trade with Kiero. Now I wonder how this came about because it was not always like this. Maybe you can enlighten us?”
There was silence throughout the room as Tadeas continued, “That’s what I thought. Now, since you have obviously done something or are doing something that would’ve made your father leave his eldest daughter severed from his alliance, I am here to help. I am a man of change, and of vision. I do not recognize any treaty of the past that was constructed, and my people will raid and sail wherever their hearts’ desire.” His eyes narrowed. “My people also recognize me as their King, and they respect my command. I am a reasonable man as well and don’t want to start another war. I am here to see if you can gain my respect, and we can find new terms to move forward with.”
“You’re a reasonable man but have insulted everything we have worked toward... Can we even gain your respect?” Cesan sneered, malice dripping off every word.
“I could move forward with a man of similar vision to the Shattered Isles.”
“No.” Roque’s voice quivered. “I refuse to go back to regency.”
Tadeus said, “You would allow your people to burn? For Kiero to fall into ruin? People will learn to fear the King across the Sea, Roque, if you are deemed a weaker man than me.”
Nei cut in, “Allow us, Tadeas, to gather our thoughts. At least allow us the honor of hosting you during your stay.”
Memphis’s balance was tipped as he slammed back into his own mind, breathing hard.
“What did you hear, Memphis? What’s happening?” Emory asked.
Swallowing hard, he looked at his friends, shaking his head. “Let’s go back to my room. We can talk there.”
They looked at him with pale faces, before they shuffled back the way they came, Memphis reeling.
Kings. War. Unrest. The Faes are hiding something. Something that broke alliances.
Goosebumps prickled across his skin, and Memphis couldn’t shake the knowledge that the Faes are hiding something; Brokk had been right. What secret would be worth sailing across the Black Sea for?
A powerful one.
Chapter Four
Adair
It was late into the night as Adair walked down the hallway. His body ached with every movement, dried blood cracking underneath his shattered nails, but it was nothing compared to how his heart broke with every passing second.
They had talked for hours, going over what Memphis had heard, every possible outcome, every possible way that it would change their lives. Emory’s strong reassurances that her parents wouldn’t allow anyone to change what they had built, the safety within the Academy.
But Adair saw through her façade and the fear that lingered there. Gritting his teeth, he slowly made his way back to his bunker where he was certain either a message from his father was waiting or his father himself.
The low lanterns on the wall lit his way, as the seconds morphed into minutes, and finally, Adair reached that looming, familiar door. Gripping the handle, he swung the door inward.
His room was simplistic, the bed tucked in the corner, his books piling on his bookcase. Other than that, there was nothing to indicate what Adair Stratton held close to his heart. Locking his eyes on the ivory envelope tucked on his pillow, he moved in a trance, and with trembling hands, he read the flawless handwriting before him:
Tomorrow, noon, in the Library – C.
His father was never a man of many words.
Adair flopped on his bed in a defeated heap. This was bad. Over the years, he couldn’t bring himself to acknowledge to anyone, let alone talk to anyone about his father’s ravings. About how Roque was weak and his father’s wild dream about Adair one day becoming King. The Academy was a fool’s dream. About the yelling matches, the hidden bruises, and ashamed tears. Adair had believed he would rise to rule with Emory by his side. In believing that, he had embarrassed himself beyond repair with the girl he loved most.
His father’s vision was an arranged marriage—a union that would make the world tremble and finally bow. The Faes and Strattons building the monarchy...
As he grew, Adair had let that dream idle into embers and had pushed more energy in repairing his and Emory’s friendship.
He was feared amongst his peers, an outcast, a monster amongst the gifted.
Taking a shaky breath, Adair rolled over, covering his eyes, begging for sleep to take him. And like every other day, he reminded himself how lucky he was to have the friends he did and the small freedoms he could relish in before he was whisked away into oblivion.
The trees around him were weeping blood. Adair stood transfixed as he spun around, taking in the inky black bark, stained by the ruby droplets. There were no sounds at all, like the entire world was holding its breath.
“Hello?”
He took a tentative step forward, the mossy ground sinking under his weight. There was a strange dampness in the air, thick and cool. The forest was never ending, and Adair was at the heart of it.
