DELTON WATCHED his wife fall into the water.
The minute she emerged from the boat, he knew it was her. He didn’t know that a canal existed under the palace. King Elian, that wily fox, had left out important bits of information, it seemed. When Xara watched him drink wine intently during dinner, he knew something was wrong. She never glanced in his direction during meals unless it was to deliver a scathing retort.
He’d poured the wine when she wasn’t looking. Only when he felt a little light-headed later did he realize what she was up to. Xara had tried to drug him to get away. Later, he noticed Michael hovering in the hallway, watching his movements like a fox. He’d feigned sleep and disappeared to his bedroom. From there, he could hear everything that went on in Xara’s chamber. She left minutes later and Michael followed. When Michael returned, he was alone. Delton had slipped out of his window, knowing Michael was guarding his room, to try and find where Xara had gone. The scent of roses, the subtle footsteps, and the traces of her energy all led him here.
He’d waited in the shadows for her return. And she had returned—looking like a thief. He had been naive to trust her. He should’ve known she’d pull a trick on him to communicate with that cousin of hers. When he’d brought up Walric in the library, she hadn’t even flinched. Was Walric back in town? Was he getting his dirty work done through her?
The sound of splashing brought him back to the present. He heard her screams but didn’t budge.
Xara thrashed about in the water, trying to swim to no avail. Was she acting to avoid confrontation? He didn’t think she was that underhanded but then again, she’d tried to put him to sleep and slipped away in the dead of night.
“Come out, Xara. Strop pretending.” Arms crossed over his chest, and he tapped a foot impatiently. He watched her attempts to keep herself afloat by thrashing around. It failed. She was slipping further and further away, making him wonder if she knew how to swim.
Did she swim?
He wasn’t sure.
He’d never bothered to find out.
“You can swim, can’t you?”
His question went unanswered. Her mouth had sunk into the water. That broke him out of his stupor. By the time he reached the edge, her body was out of sight. Only a bubbling ripple lay where her face had been.
Then that disappeared too.
“Damn!” He cursed as he peeled off his shirt and dove into the canal.
The icy cold hit him instantly. He cut through the liquid, trying to locate his wife in the dark depths. It was dirty, making it hard to see anything. But he was a demon, so he sensed her energy, sinking deeper and deeper into the water. Reaching downward, he continued swimming until he found her hand. Delton gripped it tightly. The rest of her body emerged and once he was sure it was her, he began swimming up.
He emerged on the water’s surface with a gasp, carrying Xara. Her face was cool, eyes closed. He brought them both to shore and laid her out on the tiled ground.
Xara didn’t twitch. Worried, he knelt on the floor and called out her name, “Xara.”
Still no response.
At once, he began pumping water out of her lungs. She spat out two gulps of water but didn’t awaken. In a frenzy, he tore off her cloak, trying to lessen the layers covering her body. When he reached for the opening at her neck, though, her eyes opened.
“Delton.” Her voice emerged breathless. Xara sat up with a start, observing the surrounding scene.
“Yes, it’s me,” he said. “Do you remember falling into the canal?”
She stared at him blankly. Was she pretending?
Then, her lips parted, as if she recalled what happened. Her eyes grew bleaker and bleaker.
“I’m sorry, I—’
“You can’t swim.” Delton belatedly realized that his fingers were wrapped around her arm. And that he wasn’t wearing a shirt.
“No.” Her voice was empty, drained of all emotion. She closed her eyes. A few moments of silence passed.
And then she did the strangest thing. She started crying.
A trail of tears ran down her cheek, mingling with droplets of water. She bit her lip, trying to keep down her sobs, but her entire body was shaking. Never in his life had he seen her crying—not when he turned her away on their wedding night, not when he told her the truth about King Elian and exiled her, and not when he returned to Cadia. But she was crying now.
Gathering her face in her arms, Xara muffled a sob.
When she realized where she was, she tried to compose herself.
“I’m sorry—” She stood, but her heavy, soaked clothes pulled her down. Delton moved to catch her, and she fell into his arms, a mass of soaked clothes. His arms wrapped around her body, pressing her closer to his chest. She tried to push away at first, but lacked the strength to get out of his grasp. Eventually, she sunk against his chest and continued to cry.
“I thought I’d die,” she said, “just like that time….”
What time?
As his arms remained around her, he told himself that this was his way of charming her, of getting her to trust him. It was all part of the plan. Fate had handed him a golden opportunity to interrogate her.
When she placed her fingers on his thigh, all his thoughts vanished. Just the awareness of her remained. Had she felt like this before? They remained quiet for a few moments as her eyes reddened with tears.
He didn’t want to comfort her. He wanted to grill her about where she’d been. But as her cold, wet face moved against his chest, he couldn’t bring himself to interrogate her. She was so overwrought that it was unlikely she’d be able to answer his questions truthfully. Or at least that’s what he told himself as he put his arms around her, his palm lightly moving on her back. He halted his motions instantly, startled by the realization of what he had been doing. He had consoled no one before, not even himself. But she was trembling with fear. The fall had triggered something; he was sure of that. Xara wasn’t herself, or she’d never cry on his shoulder.
This was another thing Karina had never done — cry. It gave birth to all kinds of unwelcome feelings in his chest. He didn’t want to know this side of her—the side that had emotions. Xara was his enemy’s daughter and a traitor. That’s all she’d ever be. Engaging with her emotions was far too dangerous for his peace of mind. Delton couldn’t think of her as a person with feelings. But he let her sob her heart out on his chest, his mind bombarded with thoughts. Despite the animosity running between them, she was his wife. And he wanted her to live. Even if just to question her.
He didn’t know much time passed in that state.
When his mind became empty of thoughts, her breathing slowed down. Her body still trembled from the cold, but the fear had faded. Xara’s eyes looked into his and a moment of understanding passed.
Horror quickly followed it. With a yelp, Xara pulled herself away from him, as if she’d realized what she’d been doing. Her red eyes glared at him. The spite was back in them. She opened her mouth, but no words came out. His wife must be too embarrassed to speak. Shooting to her feet, she picked up her torn cloak and fled.
And just like that time in the library, he could do nothing except watch her leave. Heartbeats echoed in his ears.
He remained kneeling on the floor for a long, long time.
THE GROUND CRUNCHED under Delton’s thick feet as he walked through the palace gardens. Xara hadn’t shown up for breakfast or lunch, sending her maid with news of her illness. Apparently, she’d caught a cold after nearly drowning in the canal last night. Delton didn’t believe it for a second. Xara was the most powerful healer in Atea. She could never fall sick.
That left only one possibility—she was avoiding him. As Delton walked past a cluster of newly sprouted flowers, pausing for a moment. The pink flowers were too cheerful for his mood. A sweet scent emanated from them—the scent of hope.
Ever since last night, an uncomfortable pulsing had begun at the bottom of his heart—the heart he didn’t have. His eyes closed as he pictured Xara’s face lying on his chest, her hot, wet tears flowing down her cheeks. He couldn’t get that image out of his head. Whenever he thought of it, he felt a brief flutter in his chest. It affected him like poison, spreading all over his body and mind until all he could think about was her. Why had she cried? Had the near drowning triggered a disturbing memory?
He’d felt nothing for her before. So, why was he feeling so damn guilty now, even though he’d rescued her, not hurt her?
Delton’s fingers brushed a delicate flower petal. Under his touch, the flower withered and turned black until it disintegrated into the soil.
The touch of death.
He’d forgotten all about it. Everything he touched withered because of his magic. With a sigh, he pulled his hand back. The gardens were bad enough without him contributing to their decay. Delton stood up, tired of pretending that there was no problem. Xara needed to give him answers. Her past and emotions didn’t matter. What mattered was that she had sneaked out last night and he still didn’t know where she’d been.
A short female stood before him when he turned, bowing profusely.
“Good afternoon, Your Majesty,” Amara said, the sun glinting on her rich brown skin. Her curly black hair was pinned back in a ponytail and she carried a thin rapier on her hip. When had she gotten so close to him? “I am Amara from the Sapphire Serpents.”
“You’re the spy Felix told me about you. I’d like to thank you for your hard work. He tells me you helped to track down Osric.”
“At your service, Your Majesty.” She bowed. “I came here to deliver a message today.” A raise of his hand induced her to go on. “It’s important, and I thought you’d want to know.”
“What is it?” His eyebrows knit together as her amber eyes met his.
“I saw Ifer in the city last night.”
Felix suspected that Ifer was in Cadia, but he hadn’t expected the crime lord to show up so openly–not when he had Osric under his thumb and was hunting for Walric. It was a risky move.
“Did you catch him?” Delton already knew the answer.
“No. He disappeared,” Amara said. “Most of our spies were in the red-light district, but he didn’t go there last night. I saw someone suspicious and followed him to one of Ifer’s warehouses.”
“But?” There was a ‘but,’ otherwise, Delton would be wringing Ifer’s neck at this moment.
“He disappeared. I saw a woman near the warehouse, but Ifer was gone. When I burst into the warehouse, there was nobody there.”
Ifer was a shadow. Nothing short of it explained why Delton’s men hadn’t gotten their hands on him yet. “How did you know it was him?”
“He was wearing his mask,” Amara said. “I caught a glimpse when he turned.”
Delton’s fist clenched. At once, he recalled Xara’s stunned face when he caught her stepping off the coat in the underground canal. Was Walric back in town? Was that why she’d snuck out? Or was she delivering messages for Walric now?
“Thank you for informing me,” Delton said coolly. “Was Prince Walric spotted too?”
“No,” she said. “But we caught two rebels associated with the freedom movement in Skera. Ifer might rally resources to attack. General Darius is at the Sapphire Serpents’ office now. He’s questioning the rebels. I believe Prince Walric is in Skera at the moment.”
“I see,” he said. He had to catch hold of Xara and make her talk. If she was involved with Ifer, he wouldn’t sit still. “Good job. Please continue your questioning. I remembered something I must attend to.”
“Yes, Your Majesty.” Amara bowed as he stormed away.
Illness or not, his wife was going to talk.
DELTON HOVERED outside Xara’s closed bedroom, ready to break the door, when it opened. Xara stumbled out; her face covered by a box full of things that she was carrying. They collided, and the box fell. Delton caught Xara’s hand in time, but the box cluttered to the ground, a few cards, pieces of crystal, and glass balls falling out of it and rolling down the carpet. Delton grabbed a few before they got away, depositing them back in the crate.
“Delton…” A pale face stared back at him, the bags under her eyes prominent in the bright daylight. Brown hair escaped her bun, framing her round face.
So she really was sick. A pang of something akin to sympathy pricked his heart before he quickly strangled it.
“My things.” She wore a loose, pale green gown with a v-neck. The skirt brushed his knee from where she stood.
“I’ll carry it for you,” he said, using any excuse to be near her. She still hadn’t told him where she’d been last night. “Where are you headed?”
“To the sky room… the observatory,” she said. Delton had heard of the sky room but had never seen it. “That’s where I watch stars and harness celestial energy.”
“Shouldn’t you be resting instead of seeing stars?” Delton asked, following her as she walked down the carpeted hallway. They passed by portraits of her, him, his parents, and King Elian.
“I’m sick of resting.” They moved up the marble staircase, Xara’s steps slow and measured. She clung to the railing carved in marble. A white arch hung over their heads, twilight pouring in from the glass ceiling of the palace. Intricately carved chandeliers hung over them as they crossed over to the third floor. From there, the sky was visible, stars emerging as the sun sank lower.
“You don’t have to follow me. A footman can carry my things.” Xara followed the carpeted path to the observatory at the end of the hallway. She stumbled on the final stair and Delton’s hand immediately shot to steady her. As his fingers grazed the exposed inside of her palm, he couldn’t help but brush his thumb against her throbbing pulse. She was so fragile, so delicate there. Her wrist was so thin that it would snap if she exerted pressure on it. But he didn’t want to break her wrist. He wanted to kiss it.
Upon realizing the course his thoughts had taken, he immediately dropped her palm.
“Trying to avoid me?”
“Yes.” With a glare, she continued to the observatory. When she opened the door, he forgot to breathe.
They stood under the sky, shielded by a glass ceiling. Like the other rooms, the room was arched and high-ceilinged. Both sides were covered with wooden shelves, painted the color of the night sky. Tiny yellow stars were painted on them, making the whole place look like a giant night sky.
“I’ve never been here.”
Rows of colorful potions, cards, books, dice, and an assortment of mystical objects he’d never laid eyes on. A round table lay at the center of the room.
“You can put that here.” Xara gestured to the table in the center, sitting down on a chair.
Delton deposited the crate on the table and looked around. “Is this where you come to work on your magic?”
“Sometimes,” she said. “It has been a while since I came. I used to be here all the time when I was younger.” She began pulling out objects from the crate—samples of soil, plants, a basin, and crystals. Placing the basin at the center of the table, she moved to the shelves to look for something. When she returned, she held a pitcher of water in her hand. “The servants leave water here for me.”
When she sat, he sat facing her. “You can leave now. I’m going to practice my magic.”
“You can’t get rid of me that easily,” he said, stubbornly remaining where he was.
“As you wish.”
She filled the water in the basin and deposited a few crystals in it. Then she closed her eyes and focused on her healing ritual. Within seconds, the water rippled, even though she wasn’t touching it. Delton’s eyes enlarged when the crystals glowed. Xara’s eyes opened gradually, pink and yellow dots of night surrounding her. She looked like a creature descended from the heavens. The light turned her eyes into pools of liquid gold. Long fingers controlled the flow of energy.
The crystals melted into the water, giving it a gleaning orange hue. The twilight mixed with the luminous water. A holographic orange bird emerged from the basin. The specter stared at him, flapping its translucent wings. A bright blue light gleamed at the center of Xara’s forehead, which the bird was attracted to.
His jaw dropped as he watched in awe as the bird attacked Xara. Worried, he stood up, determined to grab the bird, but it disappeared into Xara’s chest. Xara’s body shook when it entered her. Soon, he watched her skin prickle with light, her eyes closing once again.
“Where is the bird?” he asked. She didn’t answer.
After a few seconds, the light disappeared. When she opened her eyes this time, the sky was dark. The sun had completely sunk into the horizon and bright stars gleamed in the night sky.
“What was that?” he asked.
“A vitality spell.” Her voice sounded less hollow. “It’s supposed to restore one’s energy. Would you like to try it?”
“No, thank you.” Delton suddenly remembered that he was here to ask her about last night, not to be awe-struck by her magic. But the confrontational words didn’t come out. Instead, he said, “I just realized that I’ve never seen you use your magic.”
“We didn’t see much of each other after the wedding ceremony.”
“No.” How was he supposed to make conversation with her when she kept cutting him off? With a sigh, he decided to thank her. Surely, that was how civil people started conversations. “I never thanked you for saving General Darius’ life. He told me you helped cure him after she-demons bit him in the forest. Not to mention you miraculously restoring his eyesight.” He paused, fingers squeezing his thighs uneasily. “Thank you.”
Sincerity resonated in his low, deep voice. She might be a traitor but she’d saved his prized general.
“You’re welcome.” She placed her hands on her lap.
He cleared his throat, searching for a change of topic. “Did you fall sick because you fell into the water?”
“I think so,” she said, eyeing him like she was seeing him for the first time. “Thank you for pulling me out last night. I…,” she paused, reluctant to go on. “I can’t swim. I never learned.”
He had learned to swim when he was young. His father had hired a tutor to teach him. Kings in Inferno were expected to excel at physical activities. Clearly, it wasn’t the same for princesses.
“Water doesn’t agree with me.”
“I could teach you.” Of all the things to say, he didn’t know why he said that. Delton shrugged, trying to brush off his offer. “The Queen of Inferno should know how to swim.”
A vivid image of wet clothes clinging to her curves flashed in his mind and he regretted his offer immediately. He pictured wet droplets cascading down her face, gathering in the valley between her breasts. He’d longed to lick those drops, to use his tongue and fingers to explore more parts of her.
“N-no…” Her voice sounded tense. “I don’t think I could go into the water.”
“You’re afraid,” he remarked. It was a weakness that he could latch onto—something he could use to torture her and get her to talk. But her gasping, scared self plastered to his chest passed through his mind and a protective instinct rose in his chest. “You said you thought you’d die just like that time. What happened?”
Xara’s eyes met his and her expression curdled. Staring into the distance, she replayed some troubling memory that made her flinch. Her eyes turned glassy for a moment, her hands fisting the fabric of her dress. “I almost drowned once. The incident scarred me.”
“How long ago was this?” he asked.
“I don’t remember,” she lied. “I don’t like to talk about it.”
She was avoiding him again. He wanted to turn the tables and smash everything to pieces. Instead, he grasped at straws, wishing Darius was here to move the conversation along.
“Your magic looks quite beautiful,” Delton admitted. “Like something from a dream.”
There. That had to be a safe topic.
“A lot of Escayton’s magic is. The land, the trees, the stars, and the wind speaks to you.”
“I don’t hear anything.”
“That’s because you don’t listen,” she said. “When I came back here from Inferno, I realized how much I’d missed this place. Living here has healed me in many ways. When I left, I was a sheltered princess. I was raised to marry and sold off to the highest bidder…I only existed in relation to others…princess…queen…daughter…wife….” He didn’t miss her glare. “But when I returned…I was my own person. My father had died and for the first time, I felt like I was in control of my life. You don’t know what that feels like.”
“I know what you mean. The day I annexed Escayton was when I felt in control.”
A moment of silence passed during which he noticed her face had grown shuttered.
“You think of Escayton as a trophy… a conquest.” Xara failed to hide the bitterness in her tone. The retort had come out of nowhere, shocking him. His words had triggered her. “You’ve never felt the magic that this land contains.”
“Is that an accusation?”
“You might be the king, but Escayton will never belong to you.”
“Careful, Xara. That sounds a lot like treason. Don’t tell me you sympathize with Ifer’s cause.”
It was bait. One that she didn’t take.
“Escayton is home to my people,” she said. “Hating my father isn’t reason enough to ruin the lives of innocent civilians.”
“I have ruined no one’s life. Ever since I became the king, this country has become more prosperous.”
“But the people are unhappy. You treat this place like an unwanted territory. The palace is in a state of neglect and… you never even come here,” she stopped. “Don’t you think we all paid too steep a price for my father’s crimes?”
“That’s where we disagree. I won’t apologize for marrying you. Or annexing Escayton.” He moved to her side, Hovering behind her like a shadow. His fingers dug into the back of her chair. “This land means more to me than you realize. I won’t let it fall to ruin. Not when it symbolizes my victory over your father.”
And over Karina’s memory.
“Ifer deserves Escayton far less than I do. What has he done to help this place except turn it into a hotbed of crime? If he dares to covet what is mine, he will die at my hands. I will show no mercy.” Her shoulders tensed, making him wonder if she had indeed gone to meet Ifer last night. Did she know who he was? Were they allies? Acquaintances? Friends? Lovers? His grip on the chair tightened. “I suggest you give up any notions of your cousin winning.” Her face turned, and she eyed him suspiciously. He let go of the chair and looped around to face her. “So, tell me now, where were you last night?”
She continued to breathe, trying to stifle the unease weighing the air down. “That’s none of your business.”
“It is my business, Xara.” He stood up and circled her. “Don’t make me lock you in the palace and torture the answer out of your pretty little mouth.”
Goosebumps rose on the back of her neck. “I dare you to try.” She stood, but he forced her back down with a hand on her shoulder.
“Ifer was spotted in the city. It is too much of a coincidence.”
She shrugged. “I don’t care for what you’re implying. I have nothing to do with Ifer.”
“Try again.” In a flash, he picked up a narrow, sharp blade from the crate and pointed it at her. Her breath hitched when he gently placed it on her chest, poking the soft flesh above her breasts. He didn’t draw blood, though. When her eyes met him, he felt a spark in his belly.
“What is this?” her gaze moved to the knife. “You’re going to kill me if I don’t speak? How creative.”
“That would be too easy,” he said. “If I find that you’re aiding Ifer, your punishment will be far worse.” Before she could reply, the door to the conservatory burst open and a servant emerged.
“Your Majesty.” His eyes moved between Delton and the queen and he lost his nerve. “I-I’ll come back later.”
“No.” Xara used the opportunity to back off. The knife fell away. Hurriedly getting to her feet, she ran toward the door.
“This isn’t over.” He called out as she fled, leaving the stunned servant staring at him.
When she was gone, he was left alone in the room with the servant. And a deep sense of frustration pounding in his veins.
