Page 51 of A Wrecking of Salt and Fire

“You were my northern star. The reason I kept hoping, kept believing. The thing I knew would lead me home.”

Katrin shifted closer to Ander, letting the smell of lemon and olive oil fill her lungs. Let it lead her into that final stage of sleep. He stroked her broken lip with his thumb, lingering where the man had caused a split to form. “Asteráki mou,” she whispered, “what does it mean?”

He smiled softly, a breath catching in his lungs. “It means my little star.”

Katrin blinked a few more times, no energy left to respond, before fully drifting off to sleep. A memory of a young, black-haired boy holding out a silver and sapphire comb filled her mind. For my Starling, he had said—the engraved words she forgot the meaning of over the years. A smile caressed the boy’s face as she accepted the gift. The hope, light, and excitement of it all shining in his eyes.

Chapter Twenty-Five

Ember

Blinding light of the morning seeped in through the blinds in her chambers. A searing pain still lingered, shooting from her right temple to the center of her head. Ember tried rolling over, but the bruises and slashes on the rest of her body prevented anything but small movements. Bandages were wrapped tightly around her thigh, arm, and forehead. The faint smell of eucalyptus and mint trickled up into her nose. Her tongue lifted to the roof of her mouth, grazing over her lips. Dry as the sand on the beaches in the height of a drought. Water. She needed water.

Only air flowed out of her mouth when she went to speak. No more than an inaudible rasp. How long had she been knocked out? Silky sheets grazed against her bruised skin. Someone had changed her out of her leathers and into a rather skimpy nightgown.

Not someone—Ajax. Her whole body heated as a low snore came from the chair next to her bed. He was dressed in breeches and a light shirt rather than his uniform, but his long sword still lay across his lap, one hand gripping the hilt even as he snored away.

The last thing she could remember was being in the courtyard, how she had taken blow after blow from Kohl, until she ended up on the ground. He had gone almost feral at that point of attacking her, but she would not give up. She would not let the people see her as weak. For Katrin—for her family—she fought. Right up until she saw that bronze and silver blade coming down toward her head. Death should have come for her. Or maybe it had, and this was all an illusion.

Ajax stirred in the chair, his normally neatly textured dirty blonde hair instead a disheveled mess; his smooth skin now covered with short stubble.

“How long?” she managed to rasp out through labored breaths. He stirred again as his head began to nod awake. “How long?” Ember fought out once more, her words feeling like acid as they left her throat.

The commander jerked upright, gripping his sword tighter. His eyes flashed toward the still locked doors, then back to her. “Princess! You’re awake.”

Water began to well in his warm brown eyes. He put his sword down on the chair, rushing to her side, running one of his hands over her cheek. Ember winced at the soft touch. Not because she did not want it, but because her whole body felt like it was on fire and water was out of her reach.

“I—we thought we lost you.” His brows knit together as he looked her over. Checking each bandage. Replacing them with new cloth, rubbing that eucalyptus and mint balm over each cut and bruise. Oh gods—if he was doing that now, that meant he did them before. That he really was the one to strip her clothes and change her and, by the lack of sand and dirt on her skin, bathe her. Ember was horrified at the idea. Embarrassed and horrified. This was not how she wanted any man—especially Ajax—seeing her naked for the first time.

“How long?” she repeated, this time a little stronger.

A painful gaze locked on her, and Ajax tightened the cover on the balm. “Five days.”

“Five days?” Ember screamed. She didn’t know she even had that much of a voice left and would probably regret it later. “I was out for five days?”

“Yes. The physician—well he said it would be a faster recovery, really your only shot at recovery if we kept you sedated. He had a tonic brewed to keep you in dreams until the swelling in your head resided. The King—he insisted.” This time Ajax winced at the words.

“The King?” Ember’s voice lightened as she tried to push up to a seated position. “My father is here?” She knew he did not mean King Athanas. That frightening old man would probably have let her rot if given the chance. Did not think she was worthy of the title she was promised, and certainly would not have thought she was worthy to be queen in her sister’s place.

A small smile began to spread across her bruised face. Someone had gotten word to her father down in Aidesian. He would be able to fix all this. He would rally people to go looking for Katrin. Aidon always made everything better.

“Not your father, Ember. Kohl.”

“Kohl!” Ember screamed again. She really would regret this later. She tried to push herself up again, through the pain and hurt of it all. “He is no king of mine.” She could not believe it. Her sister was gone. She was basically useless in bed. Her future brother-in-law had tried to kill her and now he stole her family's throne.

Ajax sat down beside her on the bed, attempting to get her to stop trying to stand up. He sighed, cocking his head just slightly to the side. “Technically—well, technically he is not king yet. The coronation has not occurred.”

She looked at him with a hatred in her eyes she had never felt before. “Then call the isles back! Call a vote! Make them choose.” Kohl could not do this to them. He came here as a friend. As a protector of her sister and these people, and then he turned his back on them. She did not understand why he had gone to those lengths. He was never a violent or power-hungry man before. His father, yes—but Kohl, he was kind and gentle and always put Katrin above all. Yet, he would hurt Ember in the name of all that. It was a gods-damned lie if she ever heard one. She would get to the bottom of it, even if she was remanded to her bed.

Ajax shifted, slipping his hands away from the princess. It must have been difficult for him. His loyalty always lay with the Drakos family, but the Spartanis was supposed to be loyal to Alentus. To whatever ruler sat on its throne. Now that ruler may very well be Kohl, but instead he was here with her. Making sure she was safe and cared for, while she lay unconscious for days. Maybe the commander really did have a heart. Maybe she did stand a chance to earn his affection. To be like Machius and Iason. Together in all ways, but the official oath.

“You know that’s not how this works, Ember. Tradition states that if the Wrecking is called no vote is necessary.” He seemed to stiffen at the words.

“Then screw tradition! Isn’t that what the Viper was saying just the other day? I will not have the blood of Morentius sitting on my sister’s throne, regardless of whether they were to be wed or not.” It was probably Kohl’s father who poisoned him with this idea anyway, his words oily and deceitful. That same shudder she felt every time she thought of that man trickled down her back. She had seen the way King Athanas whispered in Kohl’s ear. Sowing dissent. But Kohl had never seemed to listen to him before.

Rough fingers gripped her chin, making her stare directly at Ajax. “You don’t mean that. Tradition is the backbone of this isle, your family, your people. I know the result is less than ideal, but I don’t know what other choice we have.”

“I want to speak with him.” She clenched her jaw through the pain. Her breathing became more ragged. Even just a few moments of anger and speaking after she woke was draining all the energy she had left.

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