Page 12 of Kingdom of Tomorrow
I bet he’d tried to converse with me the entire ride. “I can’t apologize enough,” I told him. “I didn’t mean to tune you out. It’s a habit, and I—”
“I’m not upset. Listen,” he interjected. “Don’t fight the pain. That just makes it worse.”
I sat up straighter. “Pain?”
“Medics,” the driver called. Command infused his voice. Conversations ceased. “Report to your posts.”
Shiloh reached over to pat my hand before standing. Then he and seven others made their way to the exit and disembarked, leaving me semipanicked. Don’t fight the pain of what?
“Lords- and ladies-in-training,” the driver called next. “Exit.”
With dread curdling in my belly, I did exactly that, following Mykal, who trailed Roman. We filed out, entering a whole new world ...
Chapter Four
Their throats are an open grave, with the sweetest venom dripping from their tongues.
—The Book of Soal2.6.3.13
I lined up in front of the bus with the other gentry, gawking. Never had the mishmash of realms been more evident. Fort Bala was a wonderland and a hellscape, forced to coincide.
In the sky, sharp, opaque beams of sunlight glinted off the jagged seams between worlds, curling in the shape of roses. Thin white cloud wisps dusted the ethereal petals, giving an illusion of snow. The aerial bouquet bloomed across a baby blue sky and served as a backdrop for an imposing military compound. Half crystal palace, half concrete prison, all fascinating.
The yellow sand extended as far as the eye could see, broken only by a smattering of gnarled bladetrees that bloomed with strange orange flowers. The most flowers I’d seen anywhere other than the Rock, and my jaw slackened.
Hello, my beauties. What are you?Tiny ribbons of smoke wafted from an intricate web of spiraling, upraised roots, and I longed for a closer look.
Platoons navigated obstacle courses, sprinted along tracks, practiced with odd weapons, and trained in hand-to-hand combat. Directly before us was a metal dais. A group of armed soldiers surrounded it, guarding the four individuals who stood shoulder to shoulder on itscenter. I recognized the oldest. Tagin Dolion, king ofCured’s military forces and the only son of Emperor Piven Dolion, leader ofCuredand the United Provinces of Ourland.
Up close, the clean-cut king was everything he seemed to be in televised interviews. Distinguished. Regal. Handsome and in command of his entire being. A little person around forty years old flanked him on his right while a midthirties female with a perma-scowl claimed the spot at his left. The fourth individual, the youngest male, looked to be in his late twenties. Apart from the five o’clock shadow gracing his strong jaw and a handprint branded into one side of his face, causing the skin to pucker and his eye to slightly droop, he greatly resembled the king. They bore the same heavily lashed eyes, aquiline noses, and plump bottom lips.
Despite their similarities, the younger guy was too rough and intense to be labeledhandsome, but it didn’t matter. He was something far better: Interesting. A warrior forged in the heat of battle, any hint of weakness hammered out of him.
He was a little taller than Shiloh, and more muscular. Controlled brute force to the medic’s lean strength. He examined the world around him with an air of detachment.
Everything about him ignited a nervous reaction inside me. I didn’t like it. Not one bit.
Didn’t help that he was the king’s youngest son, High Prince Cyrus Dolion. I would stake my life on it. Like the rest of the world, I’d glimpsed photos and videos of the royal family throughout the years. Images depicting holidays with the family.
The high prince swept his icy gaze over the crowd, but swiftly slid his attention back to me. His lids narrowed to slits. My breath hitched, and my skin warmed. Caught staring. I looked away. My pulse continued to race. I really, really hated this.
“I’m in paradise,” Roman breathed, his expression awed. “This is my happy place.”
“I want to be anywhere else.” When a pallid Mykal realized what she’d said, she slapped a hand over her mouth. “That’s not what I meantto say. Let me rephrase. I’m so happy to be here, beyond grateful to help my family, but I’m nervous about the unknown. Not that I don’t trustCuredto look out for me.” She groaned. “I’ll stop talking now.”
I flashed her a sympathetic smile. “Trust me, I one hundred percent understand.”
Gratitude bathed her delicate features.
“Attention, lords- and ladies-in-training,” a harsh voice called.
Roman and Mykal dropped their bags, lifted their heads, and straightened their shoulders, so I followed suit. I made surenotto glance at High Prince Dolion again. No, thank you.
“I’m Archduke Baracas Heta,” announced the little person. “With me is King Tagin Dolion, High Prince Cyrus Dolion, and Duchess Echo Mimidae.”
Don’t look, don’t look, don’t look.The mantra always helped me with the Rock, but not with the emperor’s grandson. I failed to prevent my focus from darting his way. Oh, thank goodness! He stared straight ahead, no longer glaring at me.
“Our laws are simple,” Archduke Heta continued. “Obey the rules. Respect others. Combat the Madness. If anyone exhibits symptoms of the disease, even a commanding officer, you will inform a superior immediately. Always tell. Failure to do so could cost you and countless others their lives.”
