Page 104 of Untamed

“The island is ours, but we couldn’t find Whyzer Patro.”

Ancient One, help us all.I prayed under my breath.

“You should go to sleep.” Cosme strode toward me and gave me a hug.

The oddity of the gesture left me stiff and caused me to send Laude a puzzled look. Laude’s mouth hung open, so the strangeness of the moment hadn’t been all in my imagination. I crinkled my nose at the whiff of a tangy body odor emanating from my brother.

“You know,” Cosme pulled away keeping his grip on my shoulders, “you could have done a lot worse than Zichri. He really loves you.” His mouth tipped into a mirthless smile, and he let go of my shoulders.

Now, my lips worked, trying to form a reply that wouldn’t come. A thank you didn’t feel right, yet I couldn’t think of the words to convey my appreciation.

Right before he touched the rippled air still open from Minerva’s portal, he stopped mid-step and twisted his head around. “Does this mean Zichri will be the new king?”

I could have swallowed a beehive right in that moment. With his brothers and his papá gone, my betrothed would rule Himzo.

Cosme didn’t wait for my response before stepping through the portal.

Laude looped her arm through mine, bringing me back into the moment. “We should get fresh clothes and head to bed.”

We slogged through the corridors to our chambers. A steady flow of dreary emotion poured through my connection with her, but I didn’t need my gift to understand she must have been juggling with her emotions if she wasn’t speaking at her usual galloping pace.

Our chambers stood on each side of the passage, ready for us to part ways.

“Want to talk about it?” I gestured to my door like old times when we had returned from our trip to Valle de los Fantasmas.

Laude couldn’t resist the opportunity to painstakingly spill every detail of what had happened and dissect every facial expression into the many hidden messages she could discern. We sat on the terrace on a settee wearing fresh gowns and enjoying the moonlight and each other’s company.

This whole time, I had paddled her with my words and actions for not telling the truth, yet I had held back this deep-seated fear in my heart.

“What’s wrong, Beatriz? You haven’t said anything in at least an hour and you’re not falling asleep on me, so I know you’ve got something on your mind.”

I chuckled at that. “You know me too well.”

“Yes, so spill thefrijoles.”

“What if I make a terrible queen?” The moment the question escaped, I wanted to reel every syllable back into my heart and pretend the fear didn’t exist.

“I wonder the same thing … but not about you, about me because I am technically the next in line for Pedroz. Ugh, Laude, quiet your tongue. What I mean to say is, you aren’t alone, and the Ancient One placed you here for such a time as this.”

“Do you believe that?” I watched Laude lift her knees to her chest and wrap her arms around herself.

“It says it in the Ancient Tomes, so yes.” She flicked a furtive glance at me and laughed. “Well, it’s easier to believe about you than me.”

And we both laughed despite the exhaustion, the sorrow, and the future.

Days passed and I joined Zichri in the funeral processions through the cobblestone roads in Himzo.

On the day of Prince Hugo’s ceremony, I stood by Zichri’s side as he donned a fine black doublet and a strong chin held up high. A group of servants in white carried the casket to its final resting place on the other side of the mountain from the palace.

On the day of Prince Agustín’s remembrance, I kept my shoulders pressed so tightly back that my muscles ached from the unnatural hold. The people of Himzo waved white flags through the streets as our carriage pulled Zichri and me to the cemetery. This time Zichri shed a single tear while throwing a rose onto the casket.

The third day, King Velasco’s funeral, Zichri wept the entire carriage ride through Himzo. It wasn’t the bent over,uncontrolled sight I would have expected of Laude, but he constantly sniffled and swiped at his cheeks. Perhaps the third day of such processions finally struck his heart with such a force that he couldn’t contain himself even in front of his people. Perhaps it had more to do with his close relationship with his Papá.

So, when a week had passed and the celebrations in Himzo arrived, my betrothed stood before me, still as Prince Zichri, in an upper room, not quite ready to head to his coronation ceremony. The grand sitting room had gilded portraits of the kings of the past, so big and ostentatious that my body appeared small before the painted canvases. The dozens of carved couches with embroidered cushions remained empty, save for Laude acting as a distracted chaperone with her beau in the corner.

“Are you ready?” I crossed through an arched doorway to the balcony overlooking the city of Himzo.

Zichri spun around in the finest doublet I had ever seen him wear. It was adorned with sparkling gold stitching throughout the entire ensemble. His tan skin glowed in the morning sunlight, and his hair had been trimmed closer to his head. He could be painted on one of those portraits inside the sitting room.

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