Keys to the Realm, page 1
Keys
to the
Realm
(Heir to the Throne #3)
© 2020 Neha Yazmin
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Below the thunders of the upper deep,
Far far beneath in the abysmal sea,
His ancient, dreamless, uninvaded sleep
The Kraken sleepeth: faintest sunlights flee
About his shadowy sides: above him swell
Huge sponges of millennial growth and height;
And far away into the sickly light,
From many a wondrous grot and secret cell
Unnumbered and enormous polypi
Winnow with giant fins the slumbering green.
There hath he lain for ages and will lie
Battering upon huge seaworms in his sleep,
Until the latter fire shall heat the deep;
Then once by men and angels to be seen,
In roaring he shall rise and on the surface die.
—Alfred Tennyson, The Kraken
Chapter 1
The Stone Ring was never this quiet. Myraa, Rudro, and Princess Malin hadn’t uttered a single word since realising that if the Tale of the Sea Princess was a true story, then the evil Sea Prince was real, too, plotting world domination. Not that the Tale alluded to such a thing; Parth had actually enlightened Myraa on the Prince’s perspective. I’ll find his sources. And Myraa couldn’t do that from the dungeons. I’ll end up there if I don’t return to the Palace. The Queen had probably finished her dinner now.
Although it felt like a lifetime had passed since she’d offered to escort a disoriented Malin to her chambers, it was still Wednesday. The day she’d found the first edition of the Tale in Parth’s bedchamber. The way he’d looked at her... it made her shudder in revulsion.
“Mother’s ancestors wanted everyone to forget the original story about the Sea Princess,” Malin murmured, breaking the silence at last, “to keep the evil Prince a secret.”
“The Nidiyas couldn’t have known for sure that the Sea Prince came above water,” Rudro replied before Myraa could lie and say she thought Malin was likely correct.
“Then, why did they go to such lengths to change the Tale?” Malin sounded exasperated.
“The story has a lot of information about the sea folk,” Rudro replied. “Maybe they didn’t want it to become common knowledge?”
“Why not?”
Before Rudro could respond, Myraa said, “Who knows? I honestly can’t see what the Nidiyas wanted to achieve.”
“They had a good reason,” Malin insisted. “My mother—”
The Princess halted; she didn’t want to mention the letter that Queen Kanona had written to Princess Aaryana. The letter insinuating that the Sea Princess’s story contained certain truths for her fourth daughter to learn. Myraa had guessed what those truths might be. Rudro, she was sure, had figured it out, too. Malin had no idea what she’d stumbled upon.
“Your mother what?” Rudro gazed intently at the girl.
Malin shook her head. “My mother’s ancestors risked notoriety to change this Tale,” she said. “They would have had a good reason.”
“And we’ll figure it out, Princess,” Myraa assured her. “Right now, I must return to the Queen. If she throws me in the dungeons, I expect you two to rescue me.”
“You really have no idea why the Nidiyas crusaded against this story?” Princess Malin asked the Combat Master once Myraa left the Ring.
Rudro sighed. “None that I can think of now, Princess.” He looked tired, deflated.
Malin inhaled deeply. “What would a family that emigrated from Khadak have against a story that hailed from Roshdan? And what does it have to do with the missing people?”
Rudro shrugged. “Maybe nothing. Maybe everything. I want to read the text again. I shouldn’t have let Myraa take it back to the Palace...” He shook his head.
That reminded her. “She didn’t say where she’s taking it.”
They hadn’t discussed the circumstances under which Myraa had taken the book from Parth’s apartment. He must have intercepted her when she was searching it—and shared his thoughts on the Sea Prince. Malin was glad that Rudro hadn’t been able to question Myraa about this encounter. She didn’t want him to know that her mother had kept the Tale for Aaryana, that Parth had taken it from Kanona’s shrine. This is a family matter.
It was after Malin snuck back into her chambers through her secret passage that it occurred to her: Rudro hadn’t brought up the topic of Myraa speaking to Parth. They’re going to meet in secret and discuss everything.
One thing that Myraa wasn’t going to hide from Malin was the location of the Tale. The girl had slid another note under Malin’s door: ‘What you seek lies in your mother’s shrine.’
Luck wasn’t consistently on your side. Seen as Myraa had been extremely fortunate earlier in the evening, taking the Sea Princess book with Parth’s permission, the night would naturally end with a huge stroke of bad luck. It came in the form of Leesha and Parth waiting for her in the Queen’s rooms.
Well, they weren’t awaiting Myraa’s return, but simply getting ready to retire for the night. Leesha sat at her vanity table, her husband was on a stool next to her, and Myraa’s fellow ladies-in-waiting were fussing around them.
“Ah, Lady Myraa,” the Queen said, barely moving her lips as she turned to see who had entered her bedchamber. “How kind of you to return to your duties.”
Myraa lowered her head and murmured, “My apologies, Your Majesty.”
Without elaborating, she joined the other women that were bustling about in the room. She had planned to tell Leesha that she’d been in Princess Malin’s rooms, massaging her head—Malin would corroborate this story if her eldest sister asked—but that lie would do more damage than good now. Because Parth is here. Parth, who had asked one of the librarians to spy on Malin and discover what she was reading. Myraa couldn’t alert him to the fact that she’d been in close proximity with the girl today. The day that she’d taken a book from his rooms.
Why was he in Leesha’s quarters? Usually, he got ready for bed in his own chambers before coming to his wife. If it was a hot night like this, the couple typically slept separately in their respective rooms.
“Care to tell us what kept you from serving your Queen, Lady Myraa?” Of course, Leesha would ask that.
Myraa paused in the middle of fluffing the pillows on the bed. The Queen was wearing a forced polite expression on her face as her ladies removed the pins and pearls from her hair. Her eyes were stone cold with rage, though.
By her side, Parth had a bland smile on his lips, his eyes intent on Myraa’s face. He was obviously very curious as to what she’d say.
Myraa took it as a challenge. “Your Majesty, forgive me, but I was reading and lost track of time.”
The room paused. No one was expecting her to say that!
Parth’s smile widened, impressed and unsurprised by her words. His gaze made her feel as though her entire body was covered in something wet and slimy.
He didn’t know that she’d left the Queen’s side around lunchtime; Leesha wouldn’t have discussed that with him when they met for dinner. He caught Myraa in his room just before supper—he’d come from the dungeons then—and she’d told him she was there to close the windows. As far as he knew, his wife was annoyed that Myraa hadn’t attended dinner, that’s all.
Finally, the Queen recovered enough to ask, “Reading?”
Myraa nodded.
“And what, might I ask, kept you so engrossed?” Leesha snapped. She held up her hand to stop the woman that was helping her out of her shoes.
Myraa flicked her gaze towards Parth, biting her bottom lip. Should I tell her? she asked with her eyes. It was all for show but Parth was easily fooled. He narrowed his eyes: Tell her if you dare.
Well, Myraa definitely dared. “I was reading the book that Your Highness gave me,” she said to him with a little bow.
Leesha shifted in her stool to face her husband. “You gave her a book?” Her voice was hollow with shock.
He smiled at her, warm and indulgent. “I did.” Then, turning to Myraa: “Of course, I didn’t mean for you shirk your duties to your Queen to read it.”
“No, Your Highness, that was my fault.” Myraa dropped her eyes.
“And yet, I can’t blame you for losing track of time. That story really is fascinating.”
Leesha spoke before Myraa could. “Really? Would I have read it?” Clearly, Parth had never given her a book or recommended one.
“I’m sure you haven’t read this particular rendition of it, dear wife.”
“Lady Myraa, if you’re done with it—”
“How about this?” Parth was the only soul in Adgar that could interrupt the Queen. He wasn’t supposed to but Leesha was so besotted with him that she allowed it. “I will tell you the tale tonight. Everyone likes a good bedtime story to put them to sleep.”
Leesha nodded reluctantly.
Beaming at his wife, Parth added, “Especially considering the fact that it will start raining very soon.”
Yes, the next two or three days would be the rainy days that followed the suffocating heat of the dry ones. Parth would undoubtedly ask her to mop up the water that pooled by his windows in the mornings. She wasn’t looking forward to it at all.
Aaryana and Wyett returned to the Palace in ti
Wyett being flirty.
A possible cure for Seth’s illness in the Isle of the Damned.
The abominable sea-beast.
Aaryana’s near-death experience.
The Prince carrying her to the water.
The ocean healing her fatal wounds.
The kisses.
The revelations...
She had come to care about the Crown Prince these past few days—when he was pretending to be kind and friendly towards her—and didn’t realise she was becoming attached. When she started indulging her sudden attraction towards him, the euphoria ended so abruptly that it felt as though her insides had been sucked out of her. It didn’t make sense, mourning something she never had. That’s why it hurts so much—because I never had it.
And she never would.
It’s worse for Wyett. He had known how he felt about her since day one. No, the Prince. She shouldn’t use his name; it would only remind them of the brief moments of passion they’d shared and could no more. Never again would she feel those big, warm hands on her face, his lips on hers. Aaryana could still feel Wyett’s tongue in her mouth—
Stop! Finish your bath and dress for lunch.
Her bathtub had been filled by Jeena. Her maid had come to her room a few minutes after Aaryana returned to the castle. When Aaryana enquired after her health, Jeena said she hadn’t been unwell.
“Where were you on Tuesday afternoon, then?” When I found Wyett’s fake letter.
“The Crown Prince asked me to run a few errands for him.” To keep me from asking Jeena about the Dead Forest. Wyett accounted for every eventuality.
Seeing that Wyett wasn’t in the dining room yet, Aaryana went to see how Seth was feeling. He was sandwiched between his sisters, one legitimate, one bastard-born, though only a select few in the Palace knew Erisa’s true identity. The hollows of his eyes were almost as green as his pupils, his skin pale. Even his hair, in that magnificent shade of wine-red that only the Fresdans possessed, didn’t have that glossy sheen. Aaryana’s heart gave a painful squeeze.
On their ride home, Wyett had admitted that his brother was suffering from one of his “episodes” but wasn’t nearly as bad as he’d led her to believe when he’d thrown her out of the castle.
“But His Majesty seemed particularly troubled...” King Keyan’s behaviour that night made Wyett’s act easier to believe.
“Father was troubled,” Wyett murmured. “I told him that if he didn’t go to Moon Lake, the rebels wouldn’t have attacked, and Seth wouldn’t have become unwell.”
“But it was because he’d trained with me...”
After a long moment, Wyett said, “Just... don’t train him again.”
“I won’t. I’m so sorry.”
There were a lot of things she couldn’t do anymore. With Wyett. How would she sit in the same room as him and act like she hadn’t kissed him? How would she keep from staring at his mouth whenever he spoke? How will I stay away from him? If only they didn’t possess the powers of their godling ancestors! Wyett could control eternal fire; Aaryana could heal herself with sea water. According to the Crown Prince, that meant Aaryana could probably make sea water do a whole lot more.
“You came back! I knew you would.” Seth beamed when she reached him.
News of her departure had spread. The majority of the Courtiers at the dining table were starting at her, just as the servants and guards had when she was making her way here. Erisa was staring at her plate, though. Princess Quin looked curious but kept her questions to herself. Aaryana liked the teen; she reminded Aaryana of Malin. Did Wyett still want her to keep her distance from his siblings? From Seth? Definitely. After making his condition worse, she didn’t deserve to be near him. Yet, here I am... She just had to see that he was alright.
“Who said I went anywhere?” Aaryana raised an eyebrow and flashed Seth a cheeky grin.
“Oh, let me see.” He tapped his index finger on his chin and pretended to think. “Everyone.”
“If you’re already indulging in idle gossip, I’ll take that to mean you’re feeling better. I needn’t have bothered coming to check on you.” She shook her head in feigned disapproval. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I must join Lady Lisbeth before her ears seize up from straining so much.”
Seth laughed out loud. “It’s great to have you back, Aaryana.”
Just as she sat down next to Lisbeth, Wyett entered the room. He had to take one of the last two empty seats around the table—the one next to the King’s unoccupied Throne. The one that was more or less opposite Aaryana. Needing to keep her gaze away from him, she turned to Lisbeth and smiled. Even as the older woman greeted her, Aaryana’s head filled with memories from yesterday.
Kissing Wyett by the coast, repeating his name over and over, Wyett repeating her name. Wyett’s lips on her cheeks, on her neck, her palm...
“Lady Aaryana,” Lisbeth was saying but Aaryana heard Wyett’s whispers in her head, “there’s the strangest rumour that Prince Wyett threw you out of the Palace. I didn’t believe it, of course. I mean, he’s completely smitten with you.”
“Oh, he did tell me to leave,” she assured the woman lightheartedly. Lisbeth was stunned for a moment. “Only to bring me right back.”
“See, I thought it was just a lovers’ tiff.” Lisbeth gazed at the Prince and added, “He obviously feels horrible about it now.”
She followed Lisbeth’s eyes and scrutinised Wyett’s face. Yes, he looked just as miserable as she felt. Cracks spread through her heart. He cared about her more than she did for him—he loved her, she was sure of it—and his pain cut him deeper than her own pain would ever cut her. Easier to read. Harder to hide. Hide it, he must. They had to carry on as before. No one could know that their union was forbidden—or why.
As such, when Wyett’s eyes caught hers, she smiled at him coyly and lowered her gaze—what she usually did when she saw him around Court. Aaryana had never pulled off those flirtatious smiles or looks filled with longing, but today, she was certain that she’d conveyed all that and more. It hadn’t been an effort, either; she wanted to stare at him, wanted him to know that she couldn’t get him out of her head. Wanted him to walk over, grab her hand, take her somewhere they could be alone—
“He really is fond of you.” Lisbeth’s comment halted Aaryana’s thoughts in their tracks.
Perfect timing. Her face felt hot; she was probably blushing. Say something. Distract yourself. “Lovers’ tiffs are the worst, aren’t they?” she mumbled.
The woman giggled. “They’re supposed to be the best, actually.”
Aaryana frowned. “How so?”
She and Wyett hadn’t argued or fallen out. They... ended things on amicable terms. If they’d been mean to each other, said awful things to hurt one another... it would have been a hundred times worse. She looked up at the Prince. His eyes were on her, pained and confused.
“Well,” Lisbeth said. Aaryana reluctantly turned to face her. “They say that when a couple reconciles after a lovers’ tiff, their kisses are sweeter and their love grows more intense.”
Why did she mention kissing? Aaryana’s gaze returned to Wyett and her head filled with memories of kissing him. Look away, she urged herself. Why doesn’t he look away? There was little pain in his eyes now. Perhaps he was remembering the same moments she was? She swallowed as she found that she could smell his breath now, as though she was breathing in his breaths.
It smelled of tea and smoke.
“Come with me.”
Those were not the three words Aaryana had expected Wyett to say to her today. Definitely not in front of Lisbeth and her friends as they made their way out of the dining room. He had walked towards her, snapped those three words without stopping, and stormed off, his guards following. He sounded angry...
She hadn’t said or done anything wrong during lunch. Once the King had arrived, everyone was too hungry to chat and ate mainly in silence. Unless he saw me talking to Seth... If he rebuked her for that, it would hurt a hundred times more than the first time he’d threatened to kill her for not staying away from Seth.
