In her periphery, she saw Nerissa enter the room with a tray of food and wine. The girl quietly placed it on a table. When Kurtis immediately gestured to her to leave, Amara turned toward the door.
“Stay,” Amara commanded her. “I want to speak with you.”
Nerissa bowed. “Yes, empress.”
“Lord Kurtis, is that all the news for the day you have to share with me?”
Kurtis’s back stiffened. “I have many more papers to read to you.”
“Yes, but do they contain anything important?” She raised an eyebrow and waited. “Vital? Any news of my soldiers on the brink of a revolt against their new ruler? Or news of Prince Ashur’s imminent arrival?”
“No, your grace.”
“Then you may leave us.”
“Yes, your grace.” Without another word, Kurtis bowed his head and left the room. In the few days she’d known the kingsliege, she’d realized one important thing: He took commands very well.
Nerissa waited by the door.
Amara stood up from her throne and smoothed her skirts as she approached the girl. “Bring the wine and come with me.”
Nerissa did as instructed, and Amara led her to her living chambers, a series of rooms that were more comfortable and much less formal. “Please, sit,” she said.
Nerissa hesitated for only a short moment before taking the seat next to Amara, who had chosen an overstuffed velvet armchair positioned in front of the vanity mirror.
Cleo had known a great deal about the Kindred. There was a chance her attendant might have overheard something important that might help Amara, especially in terms of Lucia’s importance in the matter. Amara planned to coax out whatever Nerissa might know.
“We haven’t had a chance to speak privately since you were assigned to me,” Amara said. “There is much about you that makes me curious, Nerissa Florens.”
“That you would be curious about someone like me is an honor,” Nerissa replied politely.
“Florens . . . That’s an unusual surname for a Mytican. Yes?”
“Quite unusual, yes. But my family isn’t from Mytica. Not originally. My mother brought me here when I was a little girl.”
“And what of your father?”
“Killed in a battle when the city of my birth was invaded.”
A small gasp escaped Amara’s lips. “You speak so bluntly and without emotion. It’s as if you’re a Kraeshian like me.”
The corner of Nerissa’s mouth twitched, almost a smile. “My origins aren’t any more Kraeshian than they are Mytican, although your father did try his best to change that. My family was from the Gavenos Islands.”
“Ah, yes.” That made perfect sense. Florens did sound very much like the surnames common in the Gavenos Islands, a cluster of small kingdoms that Amara’s father had easily conquered when she was just a child. “I’m surprised you’ve chosen to reveal this to me.”
“Not at all, your majesty. I have no ill feelings about something your father did more than fifteen years ago.” Nerissa sighed. “According to my mother, our home was a horrible place before it became part of the Kraeshian Empire. The war gave us a reason to leave.”
“But your father . . .”
“He was a brute. He beat my mother regularly. He did the same to me when I was a mere toddler—though thankfully I don’t have any memories of that. No, it was a blessing, not a curse, for us to be forced to start a new life in Mytica.”
“Your mother must be a very brave woman to take on such a challenge all by herself.”
“She was.” Nerissa smiled softly, her light brown eyes distant in memory. “She taught me everything I know. Alas, she passed away four years ago.”
“My condolences for your loss,” Amara said, sincerely. “I am curious to know what specifically such a formidable woman chose to teach you.”
Nerissa raised a brow. “Shall I be honest, empress?”
“Always,” Amara said, and she had to force herself not to lean toward her new companion too eagerly.
“The most important thing she taught me was how to get anything I want.”
“What a valuable skill.”
“Yes, it’s certainly proven to be.”
“And how did she suggest you do that?” Amara asked with curiosity.
“By giving men what they want first,” Nerissa said with a smile. “After we fled the islands, my mother became a courtesan. A very successful one.” At Amara’s look of shock, she shrugged. “During my childhood, a normal day for her consisted of activities that would make most people blush.”
Amara had to laugh. “Well. That is rather unexpected—but, frankly, admirable. I would have liked to know your mother, I think.”
She also would have liked to have known her own mother, the one who gave her life for Amara’s. Strong, brave women were meant to be celebrated and remembered, not discarded and forgotten.
Amara noticed this sort of strength in Nerissa. After all, she must have done something right to get this far unharmed. “I must ask, assuming that you were at the palace during the siege, how is it that you came to be here at the villa? Did the king bring you here immediately?”
“No, his guard Enzo did,” Nerissa said matter-of-factly. “He was concerned for my well-being.”
“Beyond that of any other attendant at the palace?”
“Oh, yes.” Nerissa gave her a wicked smile. “After the occupation, Enzo brought me here to work elsewhere in the villa. When the king noticed this, he chose me to attend to you. Making Enzo believe that we are much closer than we really are has benefitted me greatly, wouldn’t you say?”
“Indeed, I would say that.” Amara’s smile began to spread. “We have more in common than I’d have ever thought.”
“Do we?”
Amara nodded. “I’d like you to use this very special skill you have to get to know my soldiers, to find out what they say about me. Specifically, if they have any intention of defying a command from an empress rather than an emperor.”
Nerissa pursed her lips briefly before speaking. “Yes, Kraeshian men are not as open to such a change, are they?
“I suppose I’ll find out if they are or not in time, but I’d much rather have prior knowledge of any uprising.”
“I will certainly do what I can.”
“Thank you.” Amara studied Nerissa, waiting for any reluctance, any flinch at what she’d asked for, but there was none. “I see why men like you, Nerissa. You’re very beautiful.”
“Thank you, your grace.” Nerissa raised her gaze to meet Amara’s. “Shall I pour you some wine?”
“Yes, please pour us both a cup.” Amara watched her do as she asked, while imagining the girl doing the same for Cleo and Magnus. “How many attendants did Cleo have?”
“In Auranos, several Limerian girls were assigned to her, but they weren’t to her liking. After I arrived, she needed no one else.”
“I’m sure. Tell me, is she in love with Prince Magnus? I would have thought no, given that he was her enemy not so long ago, but now I’m not so sure, given the direction of her recent speech.”
Nerissa handed Amara a goblet of wine and sat back down in her chair, sipping at her own glass. “Love? I’m not so sure. Attraction, surely. For all her innocent looks, I know the princess is an excellent manipulator.” She looked away. “I shouldn’t say such things.”
Amara touched her hand. “No, please. You must speak freely with me. Nothing you say will be held against you. All right?”
Nerissa nodded. “Yes, your grace.”
“Tell me, did the princess ever mention to you what she knew of the whereabouts of Lucia Damora? Have they been in contact at all since her elopement?”
Nerissa frowned. “All I know is that Princess Lucia ran off with her tutor, and it was quite the scandal. No one, to my knowledge, has seen her si
nce—unless you believe the rumors.”
Amara lifted her gaze from her wine to the lovely girl’s face. “What rumors are those?”
“That the king has concealed the truth all these years—that his daughter is a witch. And there have been tales in recent days of a witch who’s been traveling across Mytica, killing anyone who stands in her way and burning down entire villages.”
Amara had also heard these rumors. “Do you think it’s Lucia?”
The girl shrugged. “More likely these are tall tales of villagers looking for ways to explain an errant spark from a fire lighting up their town. But, of course, I don’t know for sure.”
This girl had no useful information today, but Amara had enjoyed their talk. She reached forward and squeezed Nerissa’s hand. “Thank you for speaking with me. You have certainly proven your worth to me today, and I promise I won’t forget that.”
In one fluid motion that was as graceful as it was bold, Nerissa entwined her fingers with Amara’s. “I’m happy to help in any way you need me to, empress.”
Amara looked down at their joined hands with shock but didn’t pull away. The warmth from Nerissa’s skin sank into her own, and she realized how cold she’d been all morning.
“That is very good to know.” Amara paused, considering the lovely young woman before her with growing interest. “The days to come will be challenging, and it’s good to know I now have someone I can trust.”
“Yes, you do.”
Finally, and a bit reluctantly, Amara slid her hand away from Nerissa’s and placed it lightly on her goblet. “You may leave me now.”
Nerissa bowed her head. Amara watched her stand up gracefully and move slowly to the door. She paused and glanced over her shoulder. “I will be nearby if you need me. Whenever you need me.”
Without another word, the girl left the room.
Amara sat there for some time, considering the conversations she’d had with the intriguing Nerissa, as she finished the wine in her goblet.
Alone in her quarters for the first time all day, Amara stood and went to her wardrobe. She slipped her hand into the folds of her emerald-green gown and pulled from it the greatest treasure she’d ever possessed. Cradling it in both hands, she stared deeply into the aquamarine orb.
The water Kindred.
“An exact match for Cleo’s eyes,” she said, realizing this about the crystal’s brilliant blue hue for the first time. “How annoying.”
She watched the black, shadowy strand of pure water magic swirl within the orb.
“Does Lucia know how to release you?” she whispered to her prize. “Or are you nothing more than a rock, as disappointingly useless as you are tantalizing?”
Something warm brushed against her shoulders. She gripped the cool crystal and scanned the room, her brows drawing together.
“What was that?” she said aloud.
There it was again: a warm breeze sweeping by to caress her, this time from the opposite direction.
“Empress . . .”
Her heart rate quickened.
With haste, she returned the orb to its hiding place. She circled the room, searching for the source of the eerie voice and the hot breeze that made the hair on her neck stand on end.
She heard a deep rumble from the fireplace in the corner of the room. Amara whirled around and gasped. The fire that the servants had lit at dawn had dwindled to embers. Now, it was once again blazing, more gloriously than she’d ever seen it before. Amara’s trembling gaze then drifted above the fireplace. Dancing atop the wick of each and every candle on the mantelpiece was a flame—the candles had somehow ignited themselves.
Amara sucked in one desperate gasp of air and then forgot how to breathe entirely. The vision she had on the ship that brought her here reappeared in her mind, vivid and clear and haunting. Ashur, the brother she’d killed, returning from beyond death to avenge her.
“Ashur . . . ?” she ventured cautiously.
“I am not Ashur.”
Amara went as still as a corpse at the sound of the deep male voice that echoed through her mysteriously fire-licked room. It was a voice that came with no body—the one thing Amara could be sure of was that there was no one else in the room with her.
“Who are you?” she managed.
“You possess the water Kindred.”
Amara’s spine froze as if pierced with a dagger of ice. Now she was sure of it: The voice, not the least bit muffled, the way it would be were someone speaking from outside her heavy steel-and-wood door, was coming from inside the room.
Pushing past the thrum of her pounding heart, Amara managed to say, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Don’t insult me with lies.”
She wanted to cry out for help, but from what? No. First she needed to know what she was dealing with. “Tell me who you are and what you want,” she said, puffing out her chest. “I am in command here, and I refuse to be intimidated by a bodiless voice.”
“Oh, my little empress,” the voice taunted. “Trust me, there is far more to me than a mere voice.”
Without warning, the flames flared up, and Amara slammed herself against the wall. The fire blazed so brightly that she had to shield her eyes against its blinding white light.
“Come and see for yourself.”
Thankful for her layers of skirts, which helped hide the quivering of her knees, Amara moved closer to the flames. With more caution than she’d ever applied to any task before, she peered into them. Seeing nothing but all-consuming flames, she moved closer, until she could feel the heat threatening to singe her skin. Then . . . there it was. She swore she could see something—someone—looking back at her.
A shriek escaped her throat as she scrambled back from the fire. She reached for the chair behind her to keep from toppling over.
“I am Kyan,” the face in the flames told her. “I am the god of fire, released from my amber prison. And I can help you find what you seek.”
Amara’s whole body trembled. She was certain this had to be an illusion, a dream. She tentatively reached toward the flames, feeling the palpable heat, and tried to speak with the boldness she needed to shield her fear.
“You . . .” she began, her voice hoarse. “You are the fire Kindred.”
“I am.”
Amara felt like her entire world had shifted. “You can speak,” she managed to say.
“I assure you, I can do much more than that. Tell me, little empress, what is it that you want?”
It took her another moment to gather herself together and try to take hold of the situation. “I want to find Lucia Damora,” she told the face in the flames.
“Because you believe she can release the magic in the crystal you currently possess. And with that magic you will be more powerful than you already are.”
“Yes.” Her breath caught in her throat. “Is that magic—the magic of the water Kindred—is it like you? Conscious, knowing, thinking . . . ?”
“Yes. Does that frighten you?” There was the distinct sound of amusement in the deep voice.
She straightened her shoulders. “I’m not afraid. I possess the water Kindred, which means that the magic within it—”
“Belongs to you,” Kyan finished.
She waited, barely breathing now, until he spoke again.
“I can help you, little empress, attain everything you’ve ever desired. But first, you must help me.”
“How?”
“The very sorceress you named destroyed my physical form believing she could destroy me as well. But fire cannot be destroyed. However, I can only remain in this world as a mere whisper of my true form. With your help I will be fully restored to my previous strength, and then I will give you more than you’ve ever dreamed possible.”
He paused, as if to let what he’d said sink in.
&nb
sp; What he spoke of was straight out of Kraeshian legend, a magical creature beyond this world who promises to grant one’s wishes.
A heady mix of fear and curiosity consumed her. The thought that she’d been in possession of a crystal orb that had an entity like this within it all this time boggled her mind. Elemental magic . . . but with its own consciousness. Incredible, she thought.
Still, there were doubts rising within her. “You make great promises, but you show me nothing tangible.”
The fire blazed higher, and she jumped back. “There are others I can go to, others who would agree to whatever I ask for without hesitation. Yet I chose you because I can clearly see that you are greater than all of them combined. You have taken your power with strength and intelligence beyond that of any man who’s ever existed. You are better, stronger, smarter than your enemies and more deserving of greatness than the sorceress.”
Amara’s cheeks flushed. His words felt like a healing balm for her bruised hope for the future. “Tell me more. Tell me how to release the magical being within the water Kindred to help me solidify my reign as empress.”
He didn’t speak again for a moment, and she searched the flames for his face. It flickered in and out of view as the fire burned. It seemed that the fire god could appear and reappear at will. “Blood and magic. That is what you need—what we both need. The blood of the sorceress and the magic of a powerful witch. When the pieces are in place, I will be restored to my former glory, and you, little empress, will become infinitely powerful.”
A shiver of pleasure coursed down her spine as she stared into the flames. “What do I need to do?”
“The correct question is: Where do you need to go?”
She drew in a breath and nodded. “Where?”
The flames shifted, the shades of reds and oranges, whites and blues growing brighter and more vibrant as they did.
“Paelsia.”
CHAPTER 10
LUCIA
THE SANCTUARY
Lucia learned that the tower where Timotheus resided was called the Crystal Palace. At one time it had housed all six original elders. Now he was the only one left.