Page 78 of Of Realms and Chaos

Farai was probably the only one other than me that Wrath tolerated. Though that was in Fair’s nature. He was easy to like and difficult to hate.

We were staying at a small inconspicuous inn that rested on the border of Caless, the capital of Gandry. Despite its small size, the inn was comfortable and appealing in all the ways that the others had not been. The room was comprised of wooden floors and plaster walls, both a dark brown. The left half of the room held a large, blue sofa and two rocking chairs. A violet, circular rug sat in the center of the grouping, a too-large table atop it.

The best part of this room was that it had two beds rather than one, though they were small and had a tendency to creak when we adjusted to get comfortable at night. This would be our ninth night here—nine days worth of trying and failing to plan out a convincing appeal for the King of Gandry.

Farai sat at the top of the bed, eating an apple. I laid between his splayed legs, writing yet another horrible speech for Trint. Wrath was curled up on Farai’s left, the Shifter’s hand absently scratching between the dalistori’s ears. Henry was on the bed to our right, making use of the empty mattress to spread out at least twelve books. Studying as he called it.

King Trint was the one we knew the least of. He was a successful monarch, his kingdom prosperous and relatively peaceful. Their military forces were large and well trained, though they had no ill will towards any of the other kingdoms it seemed. They were known for their jewels, the entire southwest portion of their lands filled with caves and mines that housed the precious gems. The maps made the area look like a network of veins, bleeding enough diamonds and rubies to sustain an entire kingdom.

Because of that, Trint need not want for anything, which was not a good thing in our case. There was little we could promise him. He was supposedly greedy and young, which made him dangerous and unpredictable. Yes, we had solved his monster problem, but would that be enough for him to risk his people in a war that would not benefit him?

As always, I had secretly considered the idea of using myself as a bargaining tool. My whole life had seen me passed around in different ways, paraded like a prize. Why not use that to my advantage?

But I knew better than to put myself at the mercy of a mortal man again. Desperation might drive me to that one day, but I was not there yet. Besides, four of the six rulers had denied a similar offer nearly two years ago when Mia and Xavier first proffered me to all the kingdoms.

There was also no use in denying that selfish desire within myself to have Bellamy at my side. Yes, there was a part of me that would have him or no one, and that was more dangerous than anything else. Self-centered thoughts or choices would doom us. So I shoved that piece of myself down, down, down until it was so deep within my mind that even I struggled to sense it. But it would lie in wait, seeking an opportunity to take over and push me towards a path that would lead to Bellamy’s hand in mine as the world beyond burned.

“You have so many scars now,” Farai said, startling me out of my thoughts. His finger trailed across my shoulder, which was exposed due to the oversized orange tunic I had acquired. It was odd having someone who knew me so well see all the ways in which I had changed. Did he like this version of me less? Did he think me a monster just as the rest did?

“No, I have a story.” It was all too easy to shrug, dragging up the fabric to hide the jagged scars from the afriktor. Farai froze, his body going rigid behind me.

“You always had a story, Ash.” His voice was firm, as if he were angry with my suggestion that I had not. Seeing as he was one of the few fae who regularly insisted I was not living before Bellamy had taken me, his animosity towards my statement surprised me. I tried to understand what it was that had upset him without allowing my eternal curiosity to take hold of my power—no, magic—and break his trust.

“But now it is one worth being told.”

He pushed me up, his large hands grabbing onto my shoulders and forcing me to slightly face him. His bright white eyes and hair were alight from the Sun magic above us, his skin a combination of shadow and light. Despite having him with me for over a week, I still struggled to grasp the fact that he was here and safe and whole. His fingers met my chin, the hold tight but not painful.

“You were always deserving of a beautiful tale, no matter what they tried to convince you of. I know that two centuries worth of lies and manipulation are hard to shake, but I do not ever want to hear you suggest that you were any less before.” When his voice broke at the word “less,” I nearly let a tear slip. But I was done being a sad and broken victim. I was stronger now, and I was no captive princess patiently waiting for my next beating.

“So beautiful. Yay, friendship and all of that. Anyways, I think I found something.” Henry’s sarcastic tone cut through the tension, causing even Wrath to chuckle softly. A rarity, seeing as the two of them still greatly despised one another.

Leaning up, I kissed Farai’s cheek and then swiftly leapt off the bed. Henry picked up an open book with one hand, using the other to shove the rest aside. I sat down in the free space, peeking over his shoulder to try and decipher the text upon the page.

It was not written in the common tongue, which was why only Henry was able to read the pages. Still, I willed myself to stare at them as I allowed my power to slither into Henry’s mind, walking through the open door of light like a welcomed guest. I listened as he read for me, hoping that one day this tactic would be enough to learn the many languages of the mortals.

Though the monarchs of Gandry rule over the kingdom, it is the gods that rule over the realm. In times of strife, we look to their guidance to tell us which path to take. Their will shall be our own. Their will shall be law.

His finger traced the words as he read within his head, the excitement that pulsed from him sending my heart racing.

Above all else, we worship our gods for their glory. We ask them to steer us in the correct direction, to keep us humble and wise. Their plans are greater than our dreams, and we must vow to uphold their wishes before any law. Our gods need not a throne, for they reside in The Above, looking down in the way only they can. If any know the way, it is them.

“What is this?” I asked, an eyebrow raised. It was…fanatical. The fae did not bow for the gods—we did not let them guide or control us. In fact, other than what the demons have said of the gods, I knew very little.

Henry was smiling ear-to-ear, his body practically vibrating. The mere thought of him feeling that much joy at any time made me uncomfortable, but especially when he had a tome of religious rules on his lap.

“This is how we are going to convince Trint to help us.” The enthusiastic way he waved the book in front of him garnered the attention of Farai and Wrath, who both promptly perked up.

“We are going to read to him?” I asked, my sarcastic tone not enough to affect Henry’s truly horrifying smile.

Farai, on the other hand, laughed loudly. His cream-colored long-sleeve top was too tight, straining against his muscled arms and chest. The trousers he wore were form-fitting but far too long, the black fabric constantly catching under his heels. They were Henry’s clothes, a result of our desire not to go into any businesses that we did not absolutely have to.

I made a mental note to insist on a trip for him.

“No, little brat. We are going to appeal to his faith.”

***

“I look ridiculous.”

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