“Thank you,” I said to the maid whose name I didn’t know as she placed food on the table beside me.
“You’re welcome, Your Majesty,” she replied.
“No!” I said so loudly she jumped. Her doe eyes were wide and fearful. I pinched my lips together, upset with myself. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to yell. It’s just that I am still ‘Your Highness.’ My father and brother will be back to service soon. I’m simply . . . filling in the gap.”
She nodded. “Very sorry, Your Highness.” She curtsied and made her way quickly from the room.
“I really am—” She was gone before I could say “sorry.”
I sighed, turning back to the tomes before me. I’d scoured seven history books looking for some mention of the Dahrainian people. There was nothing.
But that stone in the garden . . . it was exactly like the one Lennox described to me in the cave. Perfectly round, perfectly smooth. It had been all but buried in a garden, but it was there. He’d said his people would return to it and dance there. And if that detail was real—if he knew about that without ever having set foot here—then there must be more. I felt it in my bones.
The door opened without a knock, and Nickolas walked in with a tray.
“Ah. I was attempting to make a peace offering, but I see someone already brought you food,” he said, nodding to the plates left on the table.
It had been a few hours since the incident in the hallway, and I still wasn’t sure what to say about any of it. Did I need to apologize? If so, what for? In the meantime, I carried on conversation, hoping it would pass.
“Yes. I don’t know who told them to . . .” I trailed off, noticing that Nickolas was sulking and stabbing cheeses with his fork.
“Can I ask you something?” I began again.
He peeked up. “Of course.”
“Have you ever heard that there was a seventh clan?”
He squinted at me. “That . . . that’s what you want to know?”
“Yes.”
He sighed. “Annika. Our country is in danger of losing the majority of its royal family; you and I are supposedly planning a wedding; an army set on destroying everything we’ve built is waiting out there for us—and you want a history lesson?” He stared at the far wall for a second. “I don’t understand where your mind is right now.”
There was something so defeated in his posture that my instinct to put him in his place faltered.
“Nickolas, I’m in a position I wasn’t trained for in a time when we know there are enemies on the horizon. I’m worried about my brother and father; I haven’t been sleeping. If I seem distracted, it’s because it’s a lot. It feels”—I put a hand on my heart, thinking it all over—“overwhelming and wonderful and tiring and amazing. I’m doing the best I can.”
He came over to kneel before me. “Then let me help. Annika, I’m capable. Go and rest. I’ll receive your requests. I can read them, sort them, and summarize them for you tonight. Breathe.”
I looked away. It felt like cheating to hand any of my responsibilities over to him . . . but if it was just reading reports and giving me pertinent information, was it so bad?
“Fine. But right now, I’m going to return these books to the library.”
He smiled and nodded, satisfied for the time being. With nothing else to say, I scooped up my books and made my way to the library.
“Annika?” Rhett asked as I walked in the door. “Back already?”
“Yes.” I placed the books on the front table. “I was going to look through these again, but it’s no use. I’m not finding anything.”
He sighed. “Have you considered that the lack of what you’re hunting for is the answer itself?”
I shook my head. “I think there’s more.”
He came closer and took me by the shoulders. “All right, then. Tell me exactly what you’re looking for. If it’s in this library, I’ll find it.”
I huffed. “I’m looking for any mention of a seventh clan—the Dahrainians? I can’t find a single reference to any such thing. . . . I was just so sure I was onto something.”
I rubbed at my forehead, trying to massage the stress out of it. When I looked over to Rhett, he was smiling.
“Annika. Of course you’re not finding anything. You’re looking in the wrong place.”
“What?”
“These people—the Dahrainians, you called them?”
I nodded in reply.
“They aren’t in the history books. All the stories about the missing seventh clan are in mythology.” He pointed to the section of the library at the center of the room, open so everyone could see what you were looking at, where the books themselves were chained to the shelves.
Mythology.
Before I could even process what that meant, the doors burst open.
Nickolas was there, out of breath from running all the way down.
“Annika,” he greeted me breathlessly. “I wouldn’t disturb you if it wasn’t urgent, but there’s someone here I think you want to meet.”
I hated to admit how my heart leaped, how every last reserve of hope in my body woke up. Was he here? Did he come back to me?
“Who?”
“A soldier His Majesty sent to the Dahrainian camp as an emissary, announcing the transfer of the Island. He was kept in the castle, questioned, and then sent to swim his way home. He’s the only one of the three His Majesty sent out to come back alive.”
I nodded. “Take me to him at once.”
