Page 2 of Between Fear and Favor

I had to believe I had acted appropriately, but I would live with those regrets for the rest of my life. I wished I had tried—for Elora—even if he died anyway.

But I supposed I’d failed her in so many ways already. What was one more to add to a long list of mistakes? All I could do was make up for it now by protecting her. Sending her away was the last thing I wanted to do, but Astana wasn’t safe for her anymore. Even Crown Cottage wasn’t guarded enough, as far as I was concerned. But I trusted Thyra.

If we didn’t win this war, my Second would flee eastward with my daughter, taking care of her in Skos—or perhaps somewhere farther east. And by now, I knew Shivani would do what she could to protect her granddaughter. Elora would likely be sought after the rest of her life if she was the heir to an abandoned throne, but there was little else we could do.

I’d failed her by not realizing Faxon wasn’t her father, by coming here in the first place and marrying Rain afterward. I’d failed the people of Vesta by becoming their Queen. Because even if I ran, they were still targets. The Supreme wanted the Beloved, and he would use my people and my loved ones to get to me. In stealing some happiness for myself, I’d stolen the livelihoods of so many people who counted on me. The only reason I hadn’t handed myself over already was because of Cyran’s warning and Rainier’s insistence.

The fate of the Three Kingdoms rested in my weary hands. If I died, there would never be peace. But as I watched brave soldiers perish beneath those same blood-stained hands every day, it was hard to believe in a prophecy in which I was the one who would find the solution.

How was I supposed to carry this burden?

“I’m going now,” I told Malva. I realized I’d been staring at the white cloth of the healer’s tent, unable to focus on anything other than the weight of a prophecy which promised death or duty I never asked for. I knew I needed to rest, but sleep had eluded me for weeks. Upon waking from brief stints of unconsciousness, I was always worse for wear. Groggy and irritable, I often wondered if those few hours were worth it. The guard who’d been tasked with escorting me everywhere lifted his head. If I didn’t know any better, I would have thought his ears pricked up like a dog sensing an incoming command.

Rifting outside the palace was impossible, thanks to the city’s wards. It was probably for the best, considering if I attempted a rift, my head would likely cleave in two. My divinity was strained from chasing after Cethina’s wretched curse all day, and so I began the long walk toward the palace. I’d planned to finish writing my most recent letter to Elora when I took a brief respite, but as I hurried up the road, I grew despondent.

Though I had tried to apologize before Elora left, words wouldn’t bring back Theo. Nothing was enough, and I wondered if I could ever explain the depth of my regret. I’d written letters to which I received no response, and part of me wondered if I should have given up. She would write to me when she was ready—if that ever happened. Pestering her would only push my daughter farther away.

I knew I should rest—that I was no use without my divinity—and I needed my wits about me. But the idea of going to my chambers, where I would see Rain’s letter written in her hand, was too much to bear. Instead, I motioned for my trailing guard to follow me to the Wend.

Chapter 2

LAVENIA

I woke up shivering.

As I tried to open my eyes, it felt like my lashes were being ripped free from my skin. Reaching up, I rubbed my hand over my face, and everything was painfully dry and gritty to the touch. Finally able to pry my eyes open, I could see. Squinting, everything was blurry as I took in my surroundings. My stomach growled and cramped, and I desperately needed to relieve myself.

In just a few moments of consciousness, I realized I was not doing well at all.

I was in a gods damned cave, walls glossy and sleek, with no way out. It smelled of damp rock—like the palace after a storm when the flooding dungeons wafted their scent upward. It didn’t smell of sea foam or the ocean’s brine, which I found surprising. In the center of the stone floor was a hole, eerily perfect in its shape. The single torch light shimmered on the water’s surface, glittering like tiny diamonds, but it couldn’t pierce the unyielding dark. I took a deep breath–in through my nose and out through my mouth–and when the corner of my lip split, I hissed in pain.

Looking around, I couldn’t make out any details on the dark walls, but the press on my divinity told me enough. Perfectly smooth lava rock, dampening my gifts. I didn’t know how I got there, how long I’d been there, or what I might do to escape. My arms and legs were stiff, but that could have been because the only padding beneath my body was a thin bed of seaweed. Groaning as I sat up, I found myself wrapped in a sailcloth. Rough fabric stiffened by saltwater rubbed against my skin. I didn’t remember changing, and the idea of someone doing it for me unsettled me. Reaching up, I picked at the salt crusting in my hair, and when I examined my scalp for some sort of head wound to explain my confusion, I yelped.

My braids had grown out nearly a thumb span.

My heart raced, and my breaths grew shallow. How long had I been asleep? How long had I laid here in this dark cavern? I began a more thorough examination of my body. My nails, once short, were now as long as my mother’s. My panic grew more pronounced, and everything began to itch. The stone beneath my legs, the sailcloth wrapped tightly around my torso, the salt drying out my skin. Every touch made my insides tighten. I picked at the fabric, unable to control my erratic motions.

How long had I been there? How was I alive?

I could feel everything—the cloth on my skin, the cold stone beneath my feet. It became overwhelming. I wanted to rip off my covering. I wanted to bathe the salt from my body. Any comfort which would calm my racing heart was out of reach, and my breaths came too quickly. Panting, I grew light-headed fast.

I rested my chin on my knees, rocking forward and backward to calm down. I didn’t want to faint. Nothing explained the missing time, but I’d done this to myself. This had been my choice.

I’d agreed to the Seaborn Queen’s bargain.

One night with me, and I will give you my armies.

A tear rolled down my cheek, but I wasn’t sure how it was possible. I’d never been more dehydrated in my life. I wanted to jump into the hole in the center of the cavern in search of relief. My skin felt like sandstone, and I needed to quench its thirst, but knew the saltwater would only make things worse. I’d gotten myself into a horrendous situation.

I couldn’t entirely blame myself. No, Mairin was at fault. Mairin betrayed me to her mother, Estri, the legendary Queen of the Seas. Mairin—a woman who saw my weaknesses, and who Ithoughtcared for me despite them—did this to me. I’d trusted her, and she had only been using me to get her fucking pendant.

Well, if she wanted to return to the ocean, so be it. I would make it a priority for Mairin to never return to land. Be it by blade or royal decree, she’d never leave the water again. Not after what she had done. The moment the Sea Queen carried out her end of the bargain, I would make Mairin pay. By the looks of it, I’d spent many a night here, so the deal should have been honored. Estri owed Vesta her armies. She owed me my escape.

Come back to me after, and I will give you the world.

I shook my head, unable to deny the truth. She hadn’t meant sleeping in a cavern when she’d asked for a night with me. Closing my eyes, I remembered the way her voice had seduced me, made me grow pliant and willing after she’d captured us. She’d meant a night in her bed. But I’d clearly been asleep for a long time, and that meant her armies weren’t on their way to help Rainier defend Lamera from Declan and his Folterran forces.

Perhaps, by now, there was no Lamera left to defend.

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