Page 44 of Heirs of the Cursed

“The only fallen kingdom I know of is the one that lies beneath our feet,” she said.

“The world of Laivalon was different then,” Dyron replied. “Ro’i Rajya was a kingdom of prosperity and development, while Kirus was sinking in the uprisings of a disgruntled and suspicious people, earning his title as the Heir of Misfortune.”

“I have a feeling that this is another moment that the king erased from history.”

“Not everything that’s written in books is true. You are familiar with a kingdom that more than two decades ago didn’t know if it would survive and that has fed its citizens with lies to maintain itself.” The wizard turned the page once more. “A kingdom that out of envy and vengeance kidnapped daimonas from their homes.”

Naithea’s eyes fell on the book again and her stomach sank as she read of the dark creatures that were the daimonas. How they’d terrorized Lên Rajya, murdering its citizens before the empire Erlina and Tavarious Boreaalinen sought to build was known as the Fallen Kingdom. Since then, the daimonas became a tale of terror told during the Night of the Holy Dead to ward off the curiosity of children and keep them from the gates in Evrethia.

“They aren’t the monsters they told you about,” Dyron said. “The sole reason you fear them is because you know no other reality but the onetheyhave provided for you.”

“No one is innocent.”

“And the Betrothed knew that, but her people shouldn’t have paid the price of her freedom. When King Kirus began hunting the daimonas, there was no one to turn to and everyone to blame.”

“Why would the king hunt daimonas? Why would he spend so many resources on . . . ?”

And so Naithea understood. Because it did make sense, after all. The daimonas weren’t just the king’s enemies, they weremuch more . . . And Kirus had discovered their potential before anyone else had.

Dyron Selmi nodded once again, confirming her suspicions.

“The life of a daimon can exceed that of three dryadalis combined,” she replied to herself, after taking out calculations, “since their magic is more powerful. The king was investigating where their power came from, wasn’t he?”

“There is no origin to seek, for the core of such magic resides in the soul of each daimon. When that core is removed from its vessel, they suffer a slow and painful death.”

“You say it as if you’ve seen it with your own eyes.”

“I haven’t, but the stories are dark enough to haunt you for the rest of your life. It’s said that the bones of the daimonas still lie skinned in the castle dungeons at Camdenn and some others beyond the sea.”

A shiver slithered down Naithea’s spine, the icy touch of death.

The creaking hinges of the library door made her turn in her seat, her hand closing around the hilt of the knife in her lap.

Her heart raced like a wild horse, frightened that it might be the Royal Army. If she was seen with Dyron Selmi, inquiring about the past, the soldiers would soon discover her intentions and act on their suspicions.

It was not soldiers who entered, but a high-born woman pulling an eight-year-old girl behind her. Naithea calmed down and sighed, relieved, and turned in her seat to speak to Dyron Selmi and uncover more secrets hidden in the story.

Yet the old wizard had already left.

15

Dawnfall

The members of the Blood Moon Circus were forced to continue the shows in Conrad’s absence, ordered to raise the necessaryvramnias to prevent his retaliation. It was her love for them that pushed Darcia to work to the point of exhaustion.

She found it hard to rest, her energy draining even in sleep. Persistent nightmares showed her disturbing images: ruins of a forgotten kingdom consumed by stone and darkness, prayers lost in time, shadows calling her name and pleading for her to yield to them.

But Darcia kept her head held high, concealing the dark bags under her eyes with the golden mask, until the flames of the torches burned down and the circular arena where she performed plunged into blackness. The crowd’s applause still echoed in her ears as she made her way out of the tent, where Bassel and Caeli awaited her in their respective ringmaster and dancer outfits.

“You were incredible! And our profits are beyond expected,” Bassel said. “I hope that Conrad will be satisfied.”

Darcia ducked her gaze at the sound of her stepbrother’s name. No matter how many vramnias they got, it would never be enough for him. He was greedy, and though the money would sustain the circus members for a while, a part of her feared that he would use it for his own gain.

Caeli leaned against the threshold of the dressing room door and crossed her arms. “I’m starting to get tired of them. The soldiers know they aren’t welcome and yet they keep coming.”

“There are no brothels here,” Darcia reminded her. “We’re the only entertainment they have.”

“They could go back to their bloody capital,” Caeli replied angrily. “I bet they have all kinds of entertainment there that they can profit from.”

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