A Shield of Fate and Ruin (Apollo Ascending Book 3), page 17
They continued chatting until the moon rose in the blush sky. Hyacinth skirted delicately around topics of his upbringing when she asked. As lilac washed over the heavens, bleeding into a deep navy, Hyacinth’s voice held a gentle eddy to it, like the smooth touch of silk. “My mother loved to garden, especially flowers. I always joined her. That’s why I know so many types.”
“I helped my mother with her plants as well,” Ibella whispered.
Hyacinth stepped in closer to her, as if he could protect her from the memories. I wondered how much this girl reminded him of Epiphany—losing her mother young, running off on ill-fated adventures—when a cackling laughter snagged my attention forward.
A group of men, dressed for the heat and carrying tightly packed bags and many weapons stood on the horizon. I grabbed Hyacinth and Ibella’s arms, eliciting a squeak from her, and dragged them both behind a shrub, before slipping my bow and arrow out and nocking it in the group’s direction.
Hyacinth’s eyes widened. “What are you doing?”
“They’re bandits or mercenaries, and if they threaten us, we will not become victims to them today.”
“They aren’t threatening us, though. They don’t even see us.”
I sighed. Cyn was right, but in that moment fear crept up my throat. Hyacinth was vulnerable in his current state. Ibella, as much as I still did not trust her, was even more so. And regardless of his doubts, these men were trouble. I’d traveled on foot alongside Temi enough to know it.
But the concern in Hyacinth’s eyes didn’t shift. And I realized his worry wasn’t for the others, but for me. What had he said? That he’d be my compass to keep me on course. To not act vengeful and merciless like gods so often did. I lowered my bow but whispered, “If they threaten us, I will not hesitate.”
Hyacinth nodded, and kissed the corner of my jaw, sending a lick of heat down my body. He saw good in me where I wasn’t sure it existed, but I could be that for him.
We waited for half an hour as the group passed by, remaining behind the bushes until they disappeared into the distance. I led us to a glen surrounded by shrubbery, hoping that would offer cover for the night.
Making a fire would draw too much attention, but luckily it remained warm enough to not need it. I pulled out the single bedroll I possessed and sighed before handing it to Ibella. Her lips parted, a touch of guilt shining the darkness of her eyes where moonlight, brighter than normal, hit them. “I can’t take your sleeping mat.”
“It’s fine. Cyn and I can sleep more comfortably together with room to stretch out on the grasses here.” That was a lie, but I didn’t want her to feel bad, even if I’d much prefer my sleeping roll.
Her head dropped, her curls shimmering in the light. “That’s very kind of you.” She cleared her throat. “Do you think it’s safe for me to… find a spot… to… umm… relieve myself?”
I skimmed the edges of the forest, where the quiet purring, hooting sounds of night creatures echoed from. “I think it will be all right. But don’t go far and yell for us if there’s any trouble. We’ll come at once.”
She nodded and slipped behind some shrubs. Hyacinth leaned into me and his lips found the hollow of my neck, raining a dozen kisses there. “Look at you, golden boy, giving up your bedroll and everything.”
I groaned.
He brought his mouth up to my ear and whispered. “I almost regret having her join us, because I wish I could see how all of your skin would look in the moonlight tonight.”
I pulled away from him. “That is so not helpful right now.”
He chuckled. “So, dinner?”
I nodded and pulled food and a small jug of wine—the last of the alcohol—out of my bag. Three of us would run through provisions faster. I hoped we would hit a city the next day. The bandits were, if nothing else, a good sign for that. We had to travel along a main route and were likely within a day’s walk of civilization.
Ibella returned and sat cross-legged as I passed out dinner and drinks for the three of us.
It wasn’t until we had nearly finished our meal, and my head became fuzzy, the lanky forms of the trees blurring together, that I remembered how many poisonous plants grew in Danari—how easily it might have been to slip some into Hyacinth’s and my food as we sat distracted and caught up in each other’s company, how stupid I’d been to let my guard down after having it up all damn day.
But those thoughts faded as my lips grew numb, and I fell back onto the grass, the stars blurring together into sparklers sizzling across the heavens.
And a single thought peppered through.
Hyacinth.
I turned my head and the world blurred.
Cyn lay beside me, his mouth ajar, eyes closed.
Terror pulsed through me for one heartbeat.
And then darkness swallowed me down.
23
Valerian
Delon plucked his fingers over a lute. He sat in the only chair in the stables where the cool air of evening wisped through the doorway, horses huffing and shuffling around their stalls, a few flicking their ears as Delon sang.
“You can’t play for shit,” Temi said from where she perched on Arion’s stall, her legs stretched out on the railing and crossed at the ankles. Orion leaned against the wall next to her, his eyes darting between the two of them.
“I said I could play… not that I could play well.” Delon smirked.
Orion turned towards Temi. “Are you ever nice to anyone?”
“I’m nice.” Her voice came bright. “Valerian, tell him I’m nice.”
I finished stacking combs on the shelf and looked at her. “Are you?” She scoffed, and Orion and Delon burst into a laugh. “When did the stables become the evening hang out spot, anyway?”
Orion rolled his eyes. “Have you been around the rest of this camp? This is the least miserable place in it.”
Delon nodded and returned to his off-key strumming. “Besides,” Temi said, “we head out in two mornings.” A charged silence swept through the space at that. They would leave to meet Ansair’s army. To fight. “You won’t have to deal with us much longer.”
Delon groaned. “We’ll miss you… or Valerian will, at least. Think… he’s going to have to put up with my bullshit all on his own now.”
Temi laughed. “Poor Val.”
Orion parted his lips like he might speak, but at that moment a group bustled through the doorway, dozens of horses soaked in sweat as if they’d ridden hard. I jumped up, prepared to take the creatures, but then Emrin walked through the center of them.
Temi dropped from the stall. “Emrin.”
He frowned at her but bobbed his head.
Delon tucked his instrument to the side of his chair. “What are you doing here, Em? We didn’t think your party was coming for another few days.”
Emrin glowered at him, an expression I’d never seen on him before. “That’s no way to address me. It’s ‘Your Highness.’” Delon’s brow furrowed as though a horse had just asked him to set a place at the table for him. “And I’ve arrived early because of my father’s death.”
Everyone gasped, expressions washing away. King Magnes was dead? No… No, that couldn’t be possible. This had to be some sort of awful joke. Delon broke the silence. “The king has passed?”
“He has.”
“I’m so sorry, Emrin, I…”
“Again…” Emrin’s eyes, dark as midnight, glared at him. “It’s ‘Your Highness.’”
What the hell was going on with Emrin? Grief? He’d struggled since Hyacinth’s death… we all had in some ways, but his sadness seemed to pull him down into a maw of darkness. I crossed my arms. “How is Epiphany?”
Emrin shifted towards me. The royal navy colors of Niria he wore glimmered in the lantern light as he sneered. “How should I know?”
“You haven’t told her yet?” I asked, my voice sharp with shock.
“I don’t see how it’s a king’s job to lose my course in order to coddle my baby sister.”
Temi walked over, her expression dark, her eyes glittering with tears. “Have you sent someone to tell her?”
A crack broke in Emrin’s facade. “Not yet.”
“Then we leave now.”
“I have other matters…”
Temi stepped into him, her fingers flexing, and Emrin cowered away from her. A smart move. She looked ready to gut him. Her words came as a whisper, so terrifying it raised hair on the back of my neck. “You have no other matters more important than taking a few hours to let your sister know of her loss. Your father”—her voice broke, and it wasn’t lost on me how much Magnes meant to her—“would be ashamed of you right now.”
Emrin’s cheeks reddened, and he fisted his hands. But Temi lifted her posture higher as though she dared him to cross her. For three long heartbeats, no one spoke. Emrin’s eyes darted about, as if he tried to read the room before he nodded stiffly. “You’re right. My grief has consumed me in the last few days. Of course, we should tell Epiphany first.”
“Very good,” Temi said, before looking back at me. “Valerian, will you call some stableman to take care of these horses and then ready some mounts for the king”—her voice trembled over the word—“and his guards to go into the city.”
I bobbed my head. “I will.”
“And you’ll come with us.”
It wasn’t a question, and I met her gaze. She didn’t want me to argue with her over it. Why did she even think I would say no? Epiphany would be distraught. Of course, I would be there for her in any way possible. I nodded to her. “I’ll get the horses ready.”
An hour later we made it into the city and handed our mounts over before walking into Lady Antonia’s house. Emrin led the group, his chin raised, a glint in his eye. I’d grown up with him as Cyn’s kid brother. He’d always been a gentle-hearted person. But since Hyacinth’s death something had shifted in him. It was like a spark of his insecurities had caught flame, and he planned for the world to burn with him.
Lady Antonia walked up and bowed. “Your Highness, I just heard of your arrival. Is there anything I can do to see to your comfort?”
“No, thank you. I wish to speak with my sister.”
She led us past the grand foyer and gestured to closed doors. “She’s in the sitting room. Do you need me to—”
“No. This is a private matter. But thank you.”
She curtsied to us all again and then turned down the hall, her dress sweeping with a huff over the carpet. Emrin cleared his throat, rolling his shoulders back, but his hand shook as he reached for the doorknob. So maybe he suffered more than he let on.
He opened the doors, and we stepped in.
Epiphany sat on a couch next to Galeson, their arms brushing, papers strewn between the two of them. Epiphany laughed at something he said, her eyes sparkling, their faces lingering so close they could kiss.
For a minute I forgot.
Forgot that her father was dead.
That she was about to receive devastating news.
For just a heartbeat, she was the woman I was in love with. Sitting next to a man and laughing with him in a way I’d never seen her laugh with another… outside of myself. Maybe I had imagined that I was the only person on earth who could bring joy to her like that.
But, apparently, I wasn’t.
Epiphany jumped up, papers dropping to the floor that Galeson snagged. Her eyes widened as she took in the three of us. “Emrin. I didn’t know you’d be in so soon.” She stepped closer, her gaze darting to me and lingering for a deep breath, desire a flame in her expression before she shifted back to her brother. “Is something wrong?”
He swallowed, bowing his head, his crown glinting in the room's lamplight.
Because Epiphany was spending time alone with Galeson. And was enjoying it.
Temi drew the doors closed, and Emrin took a deep breath. “I fear I bring hard news. Do you want to speak more privately?” His eyes darted to Galeson.
She turned towards him but shook her head. “No. Lord Galeson and I are working closely together.” I tucked a hand behind my back, my nails clenching into the flesh of my palm, but I forced my expression to freeze in neutrality. “He can hear whatever it is. But please tell me.”
“Our father has passed.”
Blood drained from Epiphany’s face. “I can’t be understanding you correctly. Father is… is… dead?”
“He is. I fear his heart weakened, and he experienced an attack. He died a few hours later.”
She gaped, her lower lip trembling.
And never in my life had I longed to pull her into my arms, hold her and let my shoulder absorb her tears, as much. But I could do nothing. Epiphany sobbed, raising the back of her hand over her mouth.
Emrin seemed to rankle at her crying and shifted away from her. “My condolences, sister. I came to tell you this and now I must leave.”
“That’s how you’re going to inform me that our father has passed? You won’t even embrace me?”
Temi shot Emrin a menacing look, but he frowned. “Try to understand, with Father gone, a great deal has transferred to me. I do not have time for excessive emotionality. I wish you a good night.”
He pulled open the door, cooler air rushing in with the motion, and walked out.
Epiphany stared at where he left, at the gaping hole the absence of his body had created in the room. She sucked in a breath and whimpered over a cry again. And Temi rushed to her, pulling her into her arms.
Temi looked at Galeson. “Perhaps you could spare us a few minutes alone, Lord Galeson.”
“Oh.” His cheeks colored, his brow furrowing. “Of course. I’m so very sorry, Pip. I… I’ll go, but if you need anything, please don’t hesitate to ask.”
She nodded but tucked back against Temi, who eased her towards the couch.
Galeson walked over to me. “We should give them a few minutes.”
I startled, but obviously I’d have to go. What excuse could I offer Galeson for remaining? I followed him into the hallway, and he bit his thumb, the pile of papers he’d gathered tucked under his arm. “Do you know when Prince Emrin… or rather… the king, I suppose… will announce this information to the leaders and allies here?”
“I’m afraid I don’t. He only arrived an hour ago and he’s already headed to camp.”
Galeson’s eyes grew unfocused with concentration. “Right. Of course. I think I’ll ride back with you if he’s gone. I need to speak with him if possible.”
“Back to camp?” I drew in a breath, my gaze darting to the door that Epiphany lay sobbing behind. But I had no legitimate reason I could stay. Especially not one I could share with Galeson. “I’d be happy to lead you.”
“Thank you.”
And I followed him out of the house, worked beside him as we and a few of his guards readied our horses and galloped into the darkness of night together. But I hadn’t forgotten that he’d called Epiphany ‘Pip.’ I hadn’t forgotten that I watched her break in front of me and because of my station in life, I could do nothing but stand back—leave.
When I finally made it to the sleeping roll in my tent, my body ached, and I lay down but couldn’t sleep despite exhaustion hovering over me like a blanket.
And then it hit me.
King Magnes, the man who had always treated me with the highest amount of kindness, was dead. My entire childhood when I imagined my father, I envisioned Magnes. In my daydreams, my father would walk in one day, saying that he’d not known about me, wise eyes twinkling with joy as he took me in. He’d draw me into his arms and tell me he loved me and was proud of me. I played that dream on a loop over and over in my mind as a child, longing for it to happen.
Of course, it didn’t.
But Magnes had taught me what a father could look like, what genuine affection and kindness could be. And even though our relationship had remained formal, he’d always treated me the same as any other high lord’s son, had educated me alongside his own children, and had allowed me to be with his daughter.
My nose flared, and I sucked in a sharp breath.
One of the people I respected most in this world was gone.
And… It was the ‘and’ that made me feel rotten for even thinking of it. But it was a reality. The only person sanctioning mine and Epiphany’s relationship was lost now.
I turned, the coarse pillowcase scraping my cheek. My thoughts played back over the night, reversing to the moment Emrin had opened the door.
Epiphany had appeared happy with Galeson.
Truly happy. Not faking it for the crowd or smiling to be polite. But tilting her head back and laughing without reserve.
They looked good together.
And if he could ensure her happiness… truly… then maybe he would be the best choice for her. With her father gone, it would make sense. The country would look for powerful alliances more than ever. And he would be the safe option. Their relationship could be public, positive even. Whereas ours was a secret, a thing to be ashamed of.
My mother’s words whispered back through my mind. And what happens to you when they need that marriage to go through for political reasons?
Heartbreak, Mother.
That’s what.
I shuddered as tears streaked down my face, for losing the king, losing Magnes, the person, and losing the woman I loved more than myself. Enough that I would let her go to ensure her wellbeing and happiness, even if it gutted me to do so.
24
Apollo
“Apollo,” Hyacinth said, his voice bright and veering on the edge of panic. “Wake up.”
I peeled my eyes open.
Fuck. The sun was already up, glittering against the blue sky, its form wavering and cranky. Great. The weather would probably be an issue. Hyacinth shuddered against me, his breath quivering along my neck, and I rubbed his back. “What’s wrong, Prince?”
