Page 91 of Legacy of the Heirs
Larelle refrained from laughing and nodded. A leather-clad figure strode behind Zarya, and Larelle glanced up to meet Kazaar’s eye. He gave a brief wave of his hand, and Larelle held up a finger, signalling her wish to talk.
“Alvan, if you take Zarya into the palace, a guard should be able to escort her to our rooms,” Larelle said, guiding Zarya towards Alvan.
“Will you be joining us in…ourrooms?” he asked hesitantly.Larelle nodded and glanced in Kazaar’s direction.
“I will after. I’m going to tell him,” she whispered. Alvan mouthed a silent ‘Oh,’ realising what she referred to before backing away with Zarya and Olden.
“Good luck,” Alvan said. He guided Zarya up the large steps and held her hand to aid her. She already wished to be beside him again. Kazaar approached Larelle.
“She’s sweet, the princess,” he said with a genuine smile. Larelletilted her head; she did not think she had ever seen him smile properly. She recalled his early departure with Elisara last night and hid her own smile at her assumptions. “What did you wish to talk to me about?”
Larelle clasped her hands and straightened, meeting Kazaar’s eye for one last sign to prove her wrong, but only warmth burned in his gaze.
“I wanted to ensure I had not offended you yesterday by suggesting you have kept some dark power a hidden secret.”
Kazaar frowned. “It would take significantly more to offend me, Larelle.”
She nodded and took a deep breath. “I do not know if you heard the added lines to the prophecy I added when we called upon the gods.” Kazaar shook his head. “It was all such a blur.” Larelle swallowed. When she said this, she could never take it back, but she saw Kazaar’s devotion to Elisara and trusted that a man dedicated to protecting the kingdom was not someone who harnessed the power to end it. The Historian’s warning rang through her mind again. Larelle’s heartbeat quickened, and her mouth dried as she contemplated whether to trust her head or gut.
“The Historian visited me not long before we all gathered in Garridon,” she said, and Kazaar raised his eyebrows. “He recited several lines from a history book, two of which were from the prophecy. The remaining two were ‘Watch for the dark one that will bring suffering to all: the rise of old power, the Kingdom will fall.’” Kazaar tilted his head. She needed to be more direct. “He also said that there was something dark about you, and you could not be trusted.” Larelle finished, allowing him a moment to process.
“He never did like me, and I always wondered why. Did he elaborate?” Kazaar asked.
“He said he could detect power, and you have a lot more than you allow us to believe. He sensed it when we were all in the city and saw darkness around you and Elisara.” Something must have resonated, as Larelle noted the moment he glanced away. “Is theresome truth to that?” She asked, beginning to doubt her trust in him. Kazaar shook his head.
“No, not the darkness. I am as oblivious to that as all of you are, including that which seems to seep from me when I am with Elisara. But the power…”
“You need not tell me if you wish to tell Elisara first.”
Kazaar rubbed the back of his neck with a sigh.
“No, she is aware. She said it was my decision if or when I told anyone else.” Kazaar peered around the courtyard, but nobody lingered except the two guards stationed by the gates. Larelle bit her tongue upon learning that, yet again, he and Elisara had kept something from the others. “I can wield all four elements,” he said, his jaw tense. Larelle raised her eyebrows. She had not expected that to come from his mouth. “I would appreciate it if you did not tell anyone else until I am ready. My goal is to see if I can share that power with Elisara, hoping doing so could unlock whatever other power lies within us.”
Larelle considered his words; it made sense to keep this from her and the others so as not to raise their hopes. At least Kazaar was acting honestly now by choosing to tell her. It eased her worry somewhat that she had been right to reveal the Historian’s warning. An uncomfortable feeling settled on Larelle, though, when she realised she, too, kept a secret from the others on his behalf. Yet she had kept the Historian’s words to herself and those closest to her until now.
Larelle nodded, understanding Kazaar’s reasoning.
“I must go; I need every second with Elisara to find a way to win this war.” Kazaar bid her farewell, and Larelle watched him leave, two lines repeating in her mind.
The power to awaken that of old lore lies in the soul of those with all four.She wondered when Kazaar first realised he could access all four powers, whether it coincided with the creature’s return or whether Kazaar had unknowingly awoken a different old lore that none of them would yet face.
Chapter Fifty
Nyzaia
Elisara stood toe to toe with Kazaar. The pair assessed each other before Elisara twirled and swung the dull sword in her grip. The two replayed the same dance they had been playing for the last fifteen minutes while Nyzaia sat on the wall, watching. She squinted against the sun, beating down on the black gravel of the training yard. The burnt red wall felt hot beneath her palms as she dangled her legs from it.
The sun did little to cure her hangover. Farid had not questioned Nyzaia at the ball each time she signalled for another drink; he had simply been a silent companion. No matter how many times Nyzaia plastered on a smile while talking with the other queens, her mind always drifted to Tajana, seeking the spot where Tajana was usually stationed opposite her throne. Jabir had since taken the spot, but nobody could take the place in Nyzaia’s heart, still reserved for Tajana, despite the pain she had caused.
“If they were not together when we saw them in the city, they definitely are now,” Farid said from where he stood below her, legs crossed and leaning against the wall. Nyzaia liked Farid’s odd moments of relaxation ever since they left the forge, but it was not yet enough to distract her from Rafik or Issam’s absence. She had yet to see them since they parted ways.
“They left rather early from the ball,” she mused.
“It is only right that someone had an enthralling night,” he responded. Nyzaia gasped, feigning offence.
“Are you insinuating that drinking and discussing military tactics with me was not an enthralling night for you?”
“It was enthralling to watch,” Jabir called from the other side of the wall. He scaled and jumped over it, landing beside Farid, whose stance quickly changed. He straightened, his posture rigid. Nyzaia wondered how long it would take for Farid to relax around others or if he ever would. “It wasn’t very productive after the fifth drink.”
