Page 36 of The War of Wings
I suddenly felt like a knife had been buried in my chest, the sense of loss even greater than I’d ever imagined. “You loved her.”
He turned to me, and though I kept my face forward, I knew if I looked at him I’d see a familiar pain. “Of course I loved her. I still do.” His voice cracked on the last word, twisting the knife. “Castemont, back when he was Castemont, had told me she’d had a son a few years after I’d left. I didn’t realize it wasanotherson. I’d hoped she’d moved on to find someone new, for her sake. Someone who would love her the way she deserved to be loved, be there for her.”
My molars gnashed against each other as I tried to keep it together. My mother had told me about my father, sure, about how she loved him and he loved her. But there had come a time when I thought maybe it had all been a bit exaggerated. When I grew up and learned the way the world worked, I couldn’t help but wonder if there’d been any love shared between them at all. Maybe it’d been a simple tryst and she’d walked away pregnant. Maybe he’d had a wife already and it was a case of infidelity. Darker, more sinister ideas had come to mind, ones I fought hard to keep at bay.
“I had to leave,” he continued, and a part of me thought maybe he was telling himself that more than he was telling me. “I was going mad. I…” He shook his head, his chest rising and falling quickly, as if he were fighting to get a hold of himself. “I needed to keep her safe.”
I was still silent. What the fuck was I supposed to say? Was I supposed to thank him?
“There was a point when I knew I was going mad, but I was still present enough within my own mind to know what was happening. And I swear…” He trailed off, his eyes far beyond Petra, far beyond the forest that surrounded us. “I swear I did hear Katia tell me her daughter would be coming. But I was soon powerless against that wretched bastard’s will. And when Castemont came to me and told me that Arimara…” He choked on a sob, clearing his throat in an attempt to keep himself composed. “When he told me your mother was dead, my entire world tilted.”
Betrayal was hot in my ribcage. He’d been nearby all along, and he’d been taken from me. I’d lost years with my father.
“I’m sorry, Cal, that I wasn’t there for you,” he said, his voice sober.
My eyes were on Petra, her caramel hair swishing back and forth over her proud, straight spine as her horse continued on. She was my everything, and she was everything to the world. And it hit me that I’d done the same Saints damned thing. Maybe the circumstances were different. But I’d left her all the same, going along with Castemont’s plan and dying as Calomyr for fear of what Castemont would do to her if I didn’t.
And how many people had acted against her, not of their own will? How many people had she extended forgiveness to after their curses were broken?
Kauvras had acted against the people he loved most because of Malosym. And fuck, if I didn’t know that feeling.
Finally, I said the words that somehow felt like both a triumph and a defeat, a blade and a salve on the wound it left behind. “It’s not your fault.”
Something shifted between Kauvras and I, then. And after five more days of travel, when Petra’s mother and Solise greeted us at the edge of the Taitha, I didn’t flinch when I saw the castle. I didn’t wonder where in the city my father could be. I knew where he was, and though I couldn’t forgive him yet, I understood.
Chapter 14
Petra
I’d spent the days between Eserene and Taitha planning out exactly what I’d say in my missives to the other kingdoms, exactly how I’d let them know of the dire circumstances we found ourselves in. And after pacing the halls of the Taithan castle for three days, I had my answers.
Lightning forked through the sky as rain lashed the windows overlooking Taitha. The stone castle seemed to shake with every clap of thunder. My powers had strengthened slightly since we left Eserene. I couldn’t tell if the ire that coursed through me had caused the storm outside, but it was an accurate representation of how I was feeling. The anger was a separate physical being in my chest, fanning my flames and spinning my storm clouds faster and faster. There wasn’t room in my lungs for a deep breath, so I fought to keep even the shallow ones I could manage. My eyes stayed trained on the table before me as Nell, Miles, and Whit filed into the room silently.
“What’d you do to piss her off?” Whit asked with a nervous laugh, an obvious effort to diffuse the tension as he lowered himself to his seat.
Cal crossed his arms over his chest where he sat to my right. “Not my fault this time,” he mumbled, his tongue running across his teeth as he stared at the pile of responses on the table. Miles took the seat to my left, and Nell the seat beside him. They were silent, their bodies rigid in anticipation.
It took a few seconds to quiet my mind just enough that I could actually speak. Each word was painful, the searing heat of outrage branding my tongue. “They don’t believe me.”
Four dozen missives laid on the table. Many of them were crinkled where I’d gripped them too hard. All of them had blackened, crumbling edges, where my fury had bubbled over and singed the parchment.
I was going to burn this castle to ash.
Nell shook her head in disbelief. “Every single kingdom turned down your request for aid?”
“Those who even bothered to reply,” I snarled, staring disdainfully at the pile of parchment. I snatched one from the top. “The King of Eddena wrote ‘we will not entertain the delusions of a usurper.’”
Nell scoffed. “Usurper? Hang on, do they feel the Daughter of Katia is not fit to rule a continent?”
I threw myself down on the chair at the head of the table, letting out a rattled sigh as I rubbed at the heat behind my ribcage. “They don’t believe I’m the Daughter of Katia at all. But that’s beside the point. They don’t believe Malosym is here.”
Miles reached forward, picking up the missive from Zidderune, scanning it quickly before throwing it back on the pile. He’d been quiet since we left Eserene, closed off and distant. Not surprising after Cyen had all but closed his claws around him. “Would you have believed it a few weeks ago?” he asked, his voice surprisingly harsh. “Not sure why you’re surprised by their responses.”
Cal straightened at the tone of his brother’s voice, his eyes scanning my face for my reaction to the outburst. With a slight shake of my head, Cal relaxed, but I narrowed my eyes at Miles. There was a hardness to his features, a look of anger that set me on edge.
But despite the anger, he had a point, as much as I didn’t want to admit it. Had I received the news a few weeks ago that the Daughter of Katia had come, and with her, evil incarnate, I probably would’ve rolled my eyes. But it was true. I was here and I was alive and I was screaming for help.
“Either way,” I continued, placing my hands flat on the table, “we’re in the same place we’ve been since the battle. Our military is smaller now and still largely undertrained.” I pressed the heels of my hands against my eyes. “To put it plainly, we’re fucked.”
