Page 1 of Between Wrath and Mercy

Prologue

Itwasagoodthing Lucia was the Beloved; if anyone could change the world by sheer force of will, it was her.

“It’s not fair. I want you with me at court.” A scowl formed on my sister’s face. We had been over this topic many times before.

“You know I can’t. Father won’t let me.”

“When I’m Crown Princess, I’ll make Rainier offer you a position in our guard. Then Papa won’t expect you to stay at Ravemont and marry Faxon.”

I grinned.

“I’m not good enough for that! Besides, you don’t need me.” I put my hand up to my chin in mock thought. “Although, I really don’t want to marry him, so maybe a quick death from a would-be assassin would be preferable.”

We both laughed and threw ourselves back into the grass, her white hair mingling with my golden brown. My twin looked over to me, eyes soft.

“Of course, I need you, Emma. I’ve never been without you.” Tears limned her eyes, threatening to spill down to the ground and water the wildflowers we laid in.

“You’re going to have hundreds of years to get used to it,” I teased, but in my heart I was serious. I’d be dead and gone just a blink into her reign. I heard her take in a shaky breath. “We’ll find you a conduit to perform the ritual with. We’ll send out missives first thing tomorrow.” Her voice was a bit frantic as if she had forgotten how many times we had been over this.

“Lucia, there’s no point, there aren’t enough left. I doubt they’d want me, anyway. My divinity is pathetic.”

“Don’t say that. Besides, it isn’t true.” Lucia’s tone of admonition took over the frantic energy with ease, ever the eldest sister even if only by a few minutes.

“Which part isn’t true? That no one would want me or that my divinity is pathetic?” Lucia ignored my sarcasm.

“Both, you idiot. But I know one conduit who wants you.”

“Gods, Luce. Don’t start.”

“When he talks to me, he pretends he’s talking to you.”

“It’s all just games. None of it is real.”

“I’d call it all off for you, Emma. Just say the word.”

And she meant it. Or at least she’d try to call it all off. Between the Myriad and King Soren, she didn’t stand a chance.

Later, in the quiet of my room, I’d think about what Lucia had said—her offer. I had told her none of it was real, but it felt real. Alone in my room, in the stillness of night, my divinity was transcendent. A white-hot tether in my mind, listening to the sound of his far-off heartbeats, mourning the loss of something I never had.

Chapter 1

16 Years Later

Everyoneinmyhomehad a death wish, and as time went on, I was becoming more and more likely to oblige them. I’d spent the last two weeks mentally preparing myself to let my teenage daughter leave on a trip with her father. They had both been working on me since his last trip to Mira—Elora begging any chance she could and Faxon giving me an expectant look, allowing her to pester me. He had brought her a book and a beautiful necklace with a single ammolite stone embraced by a teardrop setting. She had squealed, claiming it looked like a dragon scale, and thanked her father profusely. And then Faxon, the traitor, told her she could go with him the next time he went to Mira and pick out matching earrings. My eyes had nearly bulged out of my head when I turned to look at him.

“What?” He had shrugged. “Come on, Emma, it’ll be fine. She’s fifteen, not five.”

I could have killed him.

“Mama,please, please, please. I promise I’ll be careful. Please, Mama!”

We’d only ever gone as a family to Mira, and the last time was a few years ago. As Elora grew older and her divinity began to manifest more clearly, it had been too dangerous to risk going to any of the major cities. We’d even begun to avoid Brambleton. Though the town was small and not well-off, there were plenty of people who might notice her abilities. And it might have proven problematic if they thought they could get some sort of recompense for the knowledge. I didn’t want to risk it. She just didn’t have enough control of her abilities yet. The last thing we needed was anyone to see her white hair and her fingers spark. They’d jump to the obvious conclusion. Her eyes were wide and hopeful as she stared at me, reminding me of a much younger version of her.

“I’ll think about it,” I had said, accompanying the statement with a glare toward Faxon. He raised a brow at me and smirked like he’d won a battle against me.

It was typical of him to cast me as the bad guy. He’d been doing it the entirety of our marriage about everything, let alone Elora. It was somehow my fault that our daughter had been born the Beloved. It was my fault she had the shock of hair, pure as freshly fallen snow, and her eyes glowed white when she cried. It was my fault we had to leave and hide her from the Myriad. It was my fault he wasn’t currently busy running Ravemont.

When our parents started to realize Lucia’s divinity was extraordinarily strong for a child, they reached out to the Myriad temple in Ardian, proud and eager for her potential to be Aonara’s favored. The day my sister was formally identified was our eighth birthday. Mother had put her in a white dress to match her hair while I was given grey to blend in. I was not allowed in the temple with them, so I stayed outside with Father, keeping my eye on the doors, waiting for my sister to come back out. I could have sworn I heard her screaming, but when I told Father, he denied hearing it.

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