Page 6 of Legacy of the Heirs
“I do not wish to argue again,” said Sadira, remembering Soren’s foul words upon returning from Nerida. Soren had cornered her in the gardens, where Sadira had planted a rose for Rodik, the love she had abandoned on Doltas Island. Soren had implied harm would come to him should Sadira continue to disobey her.
“Then I suppose you should have considered your words before belittling me in front of the rulers,” Soren spat, glancing over her shoulder at the guard stationed by the archway, far enough away not to hear their conversation. “They need to know that I am the rightful heir to the throne, so there are no protests when I take it.”
Sadira instantly looked up at her. Soren had never announced her plan outright. Their parents had instructed both girls to return to Garridon and offer hope to the people, nurturing their lands and inviting prosperity. Though Sadira guessed there were ulterior motives, she had yet to be filled in. How naïve she had been.
“And how do you intend to do that?” asked Sadira, calming herself with the growth of the small plant in her palms. “When Caellum and I marry, the crown will default to me if anything were to ever happen to him.” Her heart skipped, fearing for a man she barely knew yet deserved better.
“Do not worry. Killing the king is the last option.” Sadira lowered her head at Soren’s words, wishing to hide the shock in her eyes that murdering Caellum was an option at all. “The aim is to cast doubt about his reign and create an uprising, forcing him to relinquish the crown to the true Garridon heir. Me.”
Soren picked dead leaves from the vines on her chair while Sadira kept her mouth shut. While she had never wanted to be Queen, it was presumptuous of her sister to assume the people and lords would choose Soren over the king’s wife, who also had Garridon blood running through her veins.
“Need I remind you again that I can easily have someone visit Rodik?” Soren sneered. Sadira whipped around to face her sister with fury and pain in her gaze. Soren smirked and ripped the plantfrom Sadira’s hand. “This is taking too long, sister. We should have been able to take the throne immediately.” Soren’s tirade of hatred against Caellum and relentless desire to take the crown was tiring for a woman who simply wished for a simple life with her plants.
“Perhaps it was presumptuous of you to assume everyone would kiss the ground you walk on simply because of the blood in your veins,” Sadira said, her bright green eyes locking with her sister’s. Sadira did not anticipate her sister’s reaction, who swung her hand and slapped her across the face. The sound echoed throughout the glass chamber. Neither said anything as Sadira clutched her cheek, blinking back tears.
“Look what you made me do,” Soren snarled. “Now everyone will wonder who hit you!” She leaned back in her chair, a triumphant smirk forming as she smoothed her hands over her braids. The guard stationed by the archway with his back to them turned and surveyed the hallway.He must have heard. “How unfortunate,” Soren drawled with hardly concealed sarcasm. Sadira could barely comprehend what had happened. “Now everyone will wonder if Caellum is just like his father, hitting you for disobeying him.” Soren looked like a giddy child, and disgust filled Sadira as she realised Soren had planned the hit all along to further her twisted narrative.
“I amnottelling people my betrothed hit me,” said Sadira firmly, and Soren leaned in.
“I’m sorry, but that sounds as if you are disobeying me?” Before Sadira could retort, Soren’s gaze caught on something behind her. With a false smile, she stood, straightened the clothing under her armour and called her wolves to heel. Yet Varna, the largest of the pack who reached Soren’s waist, stepped toward Sadira, assessing her with its pale blue eyes. It lingered there until her sister was a comfortable distance away.
“I don’t want to have this conversation again,” Soren shouted over her shoulder. She did not look back as she left through the archway. Finally, Varna turned with a low growl and padded afterher master. The guard by the door flinched as the white wolf loitered past. He stepped into the hallway and watched the wolf join Soren and the others. Only when they were gone did he return to his station and clear his throat with his back to Sadira.
“Are you okay, your Highness?” he called.
She opened and closed her mouth, unsure about what to say or how much he had heard. She sprang from her seat, struggling for words. He had protected the hall and kept Sadira company over the last few days while she worked on the room’s décor.Taryn, Sadira remembered. Taryn had insisted on carrying every chair for her; this hall was his stationed post and, thus, his responsibility.
“I’m—” The guard turned, concern replacing his warm smile. His hazel eyes widened as he assessed Sadira, who instinctively moved her head, trying to shield the redness of her cheek with her long blonde curls.
“I’m fine.” She examined the brown tinge, scarring her delicate white flowers. The guard cleared his throat, peering through the glass. Sadira turned to see if what had caught the guard’s attention was the same thing that prompted Soren’s exit.
Through the clear glass in the distance was the entrance to the walled garden, where Caellum, the King of Garridon, stood—her betrothed. Sadira’s heartbeat spiked, and sweat formed on her palms as she twisted them in the skirts of her dress.
She wondered if Soren had left to avoid or confront him. But when her brash sister did not approach Caellum, who now strode alongside the wall with Sir Cain, her rush of anxiety mellowed.
Caellum was different from Rodik—opposites, even. Whereas Rodik was broad and dense, Caellum was muscular and lean. Rodik often wore his hair in the staple braids of the island, while Caellum’s faded brown was short yet occasionally long enough to hide his eyeline. They had one similarity, though: the gentle way they cared for Sadira.
She did not know if she was foolish to assume Caellum cared for her, but she hoped his words were true. Hugging herself asshe watched him through the glass, Sadira calmed her quiet sobs, conflicted by the feelings of homesickness and the calmness only Caellum brought her. He laughed at something Sir Cain said, and Sadira smiled at how his face came to life. She often watched him when he thought no one paid attention, noticing the pain only she could recognise—grief, heartbreak, loss, and the agony of deeming yourself so worthless it leaves you wondering if anyone believes in you.
Chapter Four
Caellum
Ethereal was the only way Caellum could describe Sadira as a rainbow danced off her complexion through the glass in the hall. She had not yet noticed he was watching her. A strange pull had turned his head in her direction the second he was within the eyeline of the castle wing, revealing his betrothed—the woman he was forcing into a loveless marriage. Even so, she made no complaints and disagreed with no suggestions. In fact, she actively encouraged preparations for their engagement ball. Caellum was in awe of her, wondering how she presented herself as so calm and collected when all he wished to do was scream at the gods for the hand they had dealt her.
While Caellum accepted his cards of fate, he wished there was something he could do to turn the tides of Sadira’s. Tied to someone so undeserving of love was no easy feat, yet Sadira endured it with grace.Elisara loved you,prodded a voice in his head, though whether to remind him he could be loved or that he hurt those he loved, he did not know. He winced as the image of Elisara’s heartbreak flashed in his mind. His parting words to Vala’s queen followed him everywhere— lies conjured in the hope she would hate him. It was the only way to guarantee he would not crawl back to her begging, the only way they could rule their realms.
“You are selfish! You lack control, and you are emotionless when we are together. Why would I want to spend my life tied to someone so incredibly draining to be with?”
Caellum frowned as the image of Elisara’s heartbreak morphed into wide eyes and a grin as she peered up at her commander.Caellum had hoped someone would pick up the pieces of her heart but did not expect it to be someone so accustomed to breaking her into pieces. How could she feel anything other than hatred toward the man who played a part in her torturous training? The man who was the catalyst that nearly killed Caellum during his brief time in Keres?
The memory dissipated upon remembering Sadira’s consolations in Nerida and how she had listened so intently as he explained all that transpired and all he had done. She had a way of balancing her thoughts with words of reassurance and uplifting his mood with merely a laugh. Yet there was no laughter now as he neared the hall.
Something was wrong. Wrapped in her embrace, Sadira cocooned herself as if desperate to disappear; her golden hair hung before her face, no longer pulled back in her usual silk ribbons, and her chest rose and fell with disjointed breaths. A tightness spread over Caellum.
“Did you hear anything I just said?” Sir Cain’s words pulled his attention, and Caellum forced his gaze from Sadira to meet his commander’s, noting the wry smile on the older man’s freckled face.
“Sorry, I was”—Caellum glanced back at Sadira, and their eyes locked—“thinking.” Sadira’s eyes widened, and she turned her back to him, her movements frantic. Sir Cain followed his eyeline, and his frown matched Caellum’s as they increased their pace, nearly jogging towards the open glass doors. Sadira cut them off moments before they entered, pulling the doors closed and stepping toward them with a wide smile that did not quite reach her eyes. The red mark on her cheek was stark against her snowdrop complexion.
