This Dark Descent, page 35
“Reid,” Damien said at last. “Show me.”
Reid swallowed hard. Then he opened his hand.
CHAPTER 47
MIKIRA
THE CLOSING BALL was at the castle, and it put the showcase manors to shame. Nearly twice their size, it was built of pristine white stone and nestled in the hills of the northern city. Some of the stones were enchanted, changing color in unison from pale turquoise to brilliant orange to bright carmine. The ones in the center remained a vivid, shining white, forming the shape of the royal sigil.
Enchanted lights adorned the mazelike garden that framed the guest entrance, a gravel-lined path leading to the open ballroom doors. More festooned the shrubs and pastel green trees, and several small enchanted songbirds flitted from branch to branch, singing a harmonizing melody.
Some part of Mikira knew it was beautiful, but the larger part of her couldn’t focus on the magic. She didn’t care about the music or food or the magnificent dress that Damien had gifted her, made of black silk and embroidered in silver thread.
She had come for Rezek.
The problem was the bastard was nowhere to be found.
Had he not come? Between losing the rights to the Illinir and his father, she wouldn’t be surprised.
“Hey, aren’t you Mikira Rusel?” A tall, olive-skinned boy about her age with dark hair and deep brown eyes stood before her, a dark-skinned person with curly hair and an easy smile beside him. She tensed, waiting for their ridicule.
“My name’s Wyer. This is my partner, Ilos.” He took the other person’s hand. “We just wanted to say how fantastic you were. We saw the whole end of the race. You came out of nowhere!”
“Thank you,” she replied smoothly, grown used to this by now. Fortified by her response, they piled on, telling her how beautiful Atara was and how well she’d ridden and how much they’d loved watching her in the other races.
“I thought Lord Kelbra was going to lose it at the end!” Ilos exclaimed. Wyer chuckled, and Mikira did too. It felt surprisingly good to laugh with them.
They offered to get her a drink, and though the adoration in their faces pulled like a lure, she excused herself from their company. If she couldn’t find Rezek, then she’d deal with another unresolved matter. Still, she left with a burning sense of satisfaction that she clung to as she dove back into the crowd, trying to avoid aggravating her injuries.
Working her way through the throng took a while as other guests stopped her to congratulate her or remark on her impressive race. By the time she pulled out of the mass of slapping hands and exclamations, she had several invites to tea, requests for private riding lessons, and more than one buyer interested in a Rusel enchant. She felt like a buoy rising above a raging sea and drank the fresh air in gasps.
But she hadn’t seen Reid anywhere either.
“Well, aren’t you the celebrity.”
She spun, coming face-to-face with Talyana in her Anthir uniform.
“You’ve got to be kidding me,” Mikira groaned. “I can’t deal with this right now.” She retreated, but Talyana grabbed her arm.
“Relax, I’m not here to pester you. I’m here to bring you to someone else who will pester you.”
Mikira frowned, and Talyana looked to where Princess Eshlin sat at a table beneath a covered corridor. Sighing, Mikira followed Talyana through the crowd to the waiting princess.
Mikira bowed perfunctorily as they arrived, and the princess gestured for them to sit.
“Congratulations again on your win, Miss Rusel,” she said. “That was quite the performance.” As she spoke, her dress shifted around the shoulders. There was a pattern on it, a raised cylindrical outline. Was it enchanted?
“Thank you, Your Highness.” Mikira glanced at Talyana, hoping for an indication of what this was about, but the other girl merely grinned at her. She never would have expected Talyana to look so pleasant in the service of a royal.
“Miss Haraver tells me that you’ve grown quite close with Lord Adair.” Princess Eshlin laced her fingers together and rested her chin upon them. “I must admit I was surprised to hear that, considering your fraught relationship with the noble houses.”
This time the glance Mikira shot Talyana was nothing short of hostile.
“Lord Adair’s sponsorship helped my family out of a recent bind,” Mikira replied tightly. “I’m grateful for his help, and that’s all I have to say on the matter.”
Besides, the princess and her family were no better. What right did she have to speak of the noble houses when her family’s war was responsible for her brother’s death among countless others?
Eshlin’s brow rose, and for a moment, Mikira worried she’d been too blunt. But the princess didn’t look put off, merely curious. “Tell me, are you happy with our current system, Miss Rusel?”
Mikira shifted uneasily. “I’m not sure it’s my place to criticize—”
“Please.” Eshlin cut her off. “Speak freely. Nothing you say will be used against you here.”
Talyana’s hand fell over hers. “We’re not your enemies, Kira.”
Mikira jerked her hand away. “And yet I still can’t trust you. What are you even doing here with her?” She hadn’t missed that Talyana had said “we,” but neither could she process what that meant. This was the same girl who’d practically celebrated the attempt on Prince Darius’s life.
Talyana recoiled, and Mikira looked to the princess, her frustration mounting. “I’ll speak freely if you do, Your Highness. Tell me what you want.”
A smile spread across Eshlin’s full lips. “Ah, that’s the fire Talyana spoke of.” Something about the words drained Mikira’s annoyance, making her cheeks flush. Here was a woman who was everything Mikira longed to be: poised and elegant as a winter flower, yet strong and formidable as Aslir, a princess who commanded the respect and loyalty of soldiers.
It was no secret that where her brother had the ear of the nobility, Princess Eshlin was backed by the military, a support she’d earned through her skill with a sword and years spent training in their ranks. She’d even served briefly in the Eternal War before her father forced her to return home when his mind began to fog.
The princess brushed a hand along her collarbone. As she did, the dress rose. Mikira blinked. No, something rose from the dress.
A snake lifted its head, forest green and thicker around than her arm. Its bright marble-like eyes watched her, its black tongue flicking out to taste the air. The dress wasn’t enchanted; the snake was—except there wasn’t a single gold fleck in its eyes.
A golem.
Eshlin ran a finger along the length of the snake. “Very well, Miss Rusel. I’ll speak plainly. There is a certain organization in this city that could use someone of your mettle. An organization that intends to ensure equality among Enderlain’s citizens.”
Mikira almost laughed. Of course. Because her position wasn’t already precarious enough, now the Princess of Goddess-damned Enderlain was requisitioning her, not in support of her family, but against them.
“You’re rebels,” she said in disbelief. This was why the rebels had only gone after Darius. This was why Talyana was here.
“Guilty as charged,” Talyana replied with a smile. “What are you going to do about it?”
Mikira shook her head. “Nothing. I’m going to do nothing because I want nothing to do with this.”
“Because you’re loyal to Damien Adair,” Talyana said with all the bite of acid.
“Because my family is finally safe,” Mikira hissed back. “And I won’t jeopardize them again. I don’t care about your stupid war!”
Talyana leaned across the table. “The Mikira I know would never have turned her back on this.”
“Like you had any idea who she was,” Mikira snarled. “How could you? You left!”
Something pained flashed through Talyana’s gaze, but she pressed on. “I entered the Illinir to use the winnings as funding. I gave that up to save you. But now you’re exactly what we need.”
“What’s that?”
“A face,” Princess Eshlin replied smoothly. “Every movement needs one. Ours cannot be a noble. But someone the people love? A legend among racers with funds no one is tracking?”
Mikira’s hands curled. “You can’t be serious.”
Talyana’s hand seized hers. “Think about it, Kira.” Her eyes flitted over Mikira’s shoulder, and she pulled back.
Mikira turned just as Reid broke free of the crowd. He looked from her to Talyana and back again, scowling, but forced himself to bow to the princess.
“Mikira, I need to talk to you,” he said.
“What about?” Mikira snapped. “I’m a little busy.”
“It’s—”
“For me.” Damien stepped from the crowd, his expression set in its usual implacable mask. “Your Highness, could I borrow Miss Rusel for a moment?”
“What for?” Talyana asked, but Damien didn’t spare her a glance.
Princess Eshlin frowned just the slightest. It was her reaction that set Mikira on edge. “By all means, Lord Adair. But I’d like to see her again before the night is through.”
“Of course.” Damien bowed, then offered Mikira his hand. She sought Reid, whose panicked expression told her everything.
Damien knew.
“Mikira.” Talyana sounded nervous, but Mikira didn’t look at her. She forced herself to take Damien’s hand. He led her out onto the dance floor, where the latest set had begun. His hand was cold against her waist as they took their positions, his movements stiff and sharp.
“Listen very carefully,” he said in the cool, objective tone of a blade. The music struck up and the dance began. “We’re going to make a new deal.”
“Damien—” She cut off as his gaze snapped to her. There was nothing there of the boy who’d smiled at her earlier that day.
“I am going to keep your winnings.” He guided her through the first turn. “I will distribute them to you in a monthly salary. In exchange, the information you know about me stays with you. You will not testify. You will not tell a soul. If you do, I will take more than your funds from you. Rezek is not the only one who knows your father’s secret.”
Her breathing came quick and shallow. Once, she’d wondered what it would take to get under his skin. Now she wished she didn’t know.
“You can handle your father’s release yourself.” He spun her, bringing her back in a sharp motion. “Do we understand each other?”
She nodded.
“Good.” He spun her once more, but this time he released her hand, allowing her to turn to the edge of the crowd. When she turned back, he was already gone.
Mikira stared at the spot he’d occupied, her heart thudding painfully in her chest. He hadn’t even given her the chance to explain herself, to tell him how it had really happened.
He wouldn’t care. For all she knew, Reid had already told him, and Damien had dismissed him.
This, too, is your fault, she thought to herself.
What had happened to Ailene and Iri—they were because of her, and her choices. She’d been so angry, so convinced the world owed her something, that she’d made decisions that once would have revolted her. She’d lied, and she’d cheated, and she’d thrown her lot in with the nobility whose power had crushed her family for years, all because she’d thought that for once, the rules should bend in her favor.
This was what came of playing a game of kings.
Yet Mikira could not bring herself to regret all of it. Bending the rules had seen her safely through the Illinir, won her father’s freedom and enough money to save the ranch and pay for Ailene’s medical bills, and brought her closer to people than she ever thought she’d be again. Her father’s unyielding trust in what was right over what was necessary would never have allowed for that. But just as his rigid beliefs were impractical, neither was the answer to become like the very people she despised.
This was what happened when she let her uncertainty rule her. It was time she started trusting herself. If she didn’t, the indecision would burrow beneath her skin and spread like rot. Her fear would rule her, as cruel and vicious as Rezek ever could be.
She was done allowing it to.
Lifting her head, Mikira cut through the crowd toward Princess Eshlin’s table. She wasn’t the same girl Rezek Kelbra had forced to her knees. She was Mikira Rusel, the youngest winner of the Illinir in history and the best enchant breeder in Enderlain.
If Damien Adair wanted to make her his enemy, then his enemy she would be.
CHAPTER 48
ARIELLE
“DAMIEN,” ARI SAID for the third time. They stood to the edge of the stage, where the orchestra was finishing their latest song. Reid hovered just behind him, withdrawn like a kicked dog. Damien refused to look at him—he was staring at the stage so intently, he didn’t seem to hear her.
Ari placed a hand on his arm. “It was an accident. Mikira didn’t mean—”
“Don’t tell me she didn’t mean it.” The unbridled emotion in his voice surprised her. “She didn’t accidentally hold on to the one piece of evidence tying me to them. She didn’t accidentally forget to tell me.” She watched him force his fisted hands to relax. “Mikira made her choice. I am only protecting myself.”
She didn’t agree, but before she could press him further, the song ended, and a feminine voice floated into the enchanted microphone.
“His Royal Majesty, King Theo Zuerlin of Enderlain.”
The king emerged from a set of double doors at the back of the stage. His face was sallow and sunken, his broad-shouldered body now thin and emaciated. He walked under the support of his son and daughter, who guided him to the microphone amidst a heavy applause.
The king cleared his throat. “Thank you all for coming.” His voice was thin and papery, but the enchantment carried it throughout the ballroom. “Tonight, we celebrate the Goddess Sendia and her beautiful gift to humanity: enchantment. For the last four weeks, we have sung and danced, drunk and celebrated, and we have raced!”
A cheer went up, but none of the celebration reflected in Damien’s dark expression. For once, Ari couldn’t be sure what he was thinking.
“Tonight, we honor the winner of the Illinir, Mikira Rusel, and her sponsor, Lord Damien Adair.”
The crowd’s roar redoubled as Damien and Mikira entered on opposite sides of the stage. His expression was one of cool indifference, but Mikira’s resentment was practically palpable. Ari wanted to tear them away from the stage, to force them into a room where they could figure this out without the pressing eyes of the crowd. Before it was too late to repair what’d been broken.
Pay them no heed, said the voice. We have more important matters to attend to.
What are you talking about? The voice had been uncharacteristically silent as of late, but she felt its presence more solidly now than ever before.
“Miss Rusel,” the king continued. “You have shown incredible bravery and strength in the face of one of our kingdom’s toughest trials. As the youngest person to ever win the Illinir, your name will never be forgotten. You’ve done your father proud. Please consider yourself the personal guest of the royal family.”
Mikira bowed, the rigid lines of fury clear in her stiff posture. “Thank you, Your Majesty.” Her tone was laced with acidity, the same way she sounded when she spoke of Rezek. But when she rose from her bow, her face betrayed nothing save a smile. It startled Ari. This was not the loose-tongued girl she’d met months ago.
“I understand that you’ve chosen to grant the royal boon to your sponsor, is that true?” the king asked.
Mikira met Damien’s gaze. “Indeed, Your Majesty. Lord Adair was instrumental in my success, and in return, I’d like him to have the boon.”
Clever. Portraying it like that made her look generous and deferent. She was not a commoner coming for the nobility’s prestige and status, but also how endearing she looked, her red hair down in tumbling waves, her face flush from dance or drink or something sharper. The crowd whistled for her in earnest.
What game was Mikira playing?
Oh, Ari, sighed the voice. You cannot save them.
Save them from what? What is happening?
The king turned to Damien. “And what is it you would like to claim, Lord Adair?”
Damien lifted his chin. “Your Majesty.” His voice rang clear and deep. “As my boon, I ask that House Adair replace House Kelbra as one of the four greater houses of Enderlain.”
Utter silence reigned in the wake of his words. Ari sensed the wide-eyed stares of the crowd, felt the tension running through them in a taut string. But Damien did not look away from the king, whose dark eyes, so weary before, now held the shrewd awareness of a man who had once stolen a throne.
Seeing him now, Ari believed every rumor she’d heard. That he’d usurped his brother-in-law’s line of succession, that out there somewhere was a child who could take everything from him. He had the eyes of a man who would do anything to have what he wanted.
“Is that … Can he do that?” Prince Darius asked. He looked baffled, his sister merely curious. She watched Damien with a knowing smile on her lips, the kind one player gave to another. A low murmur coursed through the gathering, and Mikira’s astonished expression quickly shuttered.
“The greater houses have remained unchanged for decades,” the king said, each word carefully measured. “But those positions are kept at my pleasure. There is nothing in the rules of the Illinir or in the law of the kingdom that prevents me from granting this request.”
The murmuring rose into shocked gasps, people’s words tumbling over each other in a rush of conversation. Some even laughed, their ridicule evident. They wanted the king to tear him down for his audaciousness.
“Father, please,” Prince Darius murmured. “I admire Lord Adair as much as anyone, but Rezek will be furious.”
“I do not take council from duplicitous snakes,” the king replied in a low growl. Darius reared back like he’d been slapped.
The king stepped up before Damien. He was tall, the impression of the warrior’s body his daughter had inherited still evident even in his old age.
