Page 87 of I Summon the Sea

“Make of that what you will. Good night, Rae.” With another sigh, Tru steps outside and closes the door.

Leaving me alone with my circling thoughts.

CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

I’m back home.

In the memory, I’m sitting at the long table by the hearth. Aromatickiri-blossom soup has been served in white porcelain bowls along with silver spoons engraved with my family crest: the fish goddess and a lightning strike.

Mother and Father are quietly discussing the situation in the wastes and the far reaches. The rebellion is getting crushed, the farms burned to the ground. I know what they are worried about. I have been included in a few such conversations. The fae can’t be trusted.

Yet we are living close to the center, surrounded by fae estates and towns, pay our dues, keep good diplomatic relations with the fae Crown, and are in good standing.

We are doing fine. The fae haven’t touched us ever since I can remember. I was born during this period of tentative peace, unharmed by grief and sorrow. Despite being aware of the ongoing human rebellion on the fringes of the world, I can’t imagine violence and pain. My life has been perfect here, within these walls, in this town by the river.

It used to be a small kingdom, before the arrival of the fae. Our house used to be a palace, and my ancestors were kingsand queens. I’m a princess, born from Circe’s long and ancient lineage, all but wiped out during the last Reversal, our palaces and lands gone, our people decimated because only a privileged few had access to draks to fly them to safety as the world tipped over.

Nobody talks much about the Reversal, its cataclysmic destruction, the total and utter devastation. Each generation draws closer to a new one, and I can’t fathom how emotions must rise as they count down to the end of their world as they know it. Persephona’s legend is heartbreaking, and I avoid listening to the bards passing through our home when they insist on performing it.

But returning to me… I’m a royal with no dominion other than my heart. And my heart has been glad.

Only, in the past few months, everything has changed. Since Jackal was killed, I can’t find peace. And tonight for some reason, my parents seem more nervous than ever. I keep stealing glances at them as I sip at my soup. It’s my favorite, and I used to have second helpings, but recent events as well as their tense faces make me feel queasy. They haven’t touched their food at all. The maids hover at the door, waiting to clear away the plates and bring in the second course.

After a while, I become distracted by Flynn, my little brother, who is feeding the cat soup under the table, making a mess on the floor. He smirks at me when he catches me watching, and the cat hisses when he drips soup over her head.

“Remian Flynn!” I scowl, but the truth is, I can never be angry with him. He’s just too cute.

Seven years younger than me, he’s a force of nature, always up to something, chasing after animals, breaking into rooms where he isn’t supposed to be, wandering farther than he’s allowed, escaping anyone minding him, and generally being a little terror.

I say little, but he’s not a baby anymore, although he’ll always be my baby brother. He’s about eight now, the rascal.

“Stop torturing the cat,” I say, reaching for his plate.

“Let me be, Aethry.” He sticks his tongue out at me. “The cat likes the soup. I’m not doing anything wrong. You keep scolding me.”

I frown. “I’m sorry.”

I’m trying to return to normalcy. I’m not angry at him, but I’m distraught. Destroyed. Lost, ever since Jackal was killed by the king’s drak riders, and the uneasy feeling in my stomach hasn’t abated since.

If they can just grab and kill anyone within our territory, what’s stopping them from doing worse, from breaching our agreements, tacit and explicit, and taking more? We’ve kept on their good side, managed to be on friendly terms without betraying our people, or so I gather. We offered our allegiance in exchange for our people’s safety—but what does allegiance mean except let them inside whenever they want something and not try to stop them?

I’ve been a wraith since Mars was taken from me.

My parents can’t fathom why I’m so melancholy. They never knew how close I had become with my Jackal, my fair boy.

They want me to understand politics, but it goes over my head at the best of times. My mother wants me to know more, but my father says it’s not my place. He wants me to get married away from here and leave, because he thinks living at the outer reaches may be safer for me.

I don’t see why.

He wants to protect me, but I don’t know what to think. Is there any safe place in the world? And is it a good idea to hide yourself from the horrors of the world, remain innocent and unprepared? Sooner or later, they will find you and crush you.

I’m already crushed, even if everyone pretends I’m still whole.

Then suddenly, with a bang, the door explodes inward, broken down the middle.

Flynn screams. The cat hisses and escapes the room.

The hinges whine as the broken pieces swing, and then the fae soldiers march inside, feathers quivering on their tall helmets, breastplates shining and spears thrusting.

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