Page 1 of Winds of Destiny

Chapter One

Cam

“…confirming the engagement of Prince Camrael Rabann of Zephyth to Prince Eleas Megethos of Huridell…”

That’s as far as I get before I see red and slam the offensive document down as hard as I can. Every piece of paper on the polished wooden table explodes away from me, creating a hurricane of parchment that settles only slowly, along with my wretched mood.

Such a display would be impressive under other circumstances—proof that the power of Zephyth’s god Ophiucas thrives in my blood even though the everwinds themselves have ceased. As it is, though, it’s mostly annoying, particularly when triggered by my temper.

At least that’s what Turo thinks, if the way he rolls his eyes is any indication.

“Are you a child?” He sighs before bending over to begin picking up the pieces of correspondence, maps of the continent, and reports from his spy network that he’d meticulously laid out not ten minutes ago. “You knew it was going to be an announcement of marriage.”

He’s not wrong, but… “I don’t even know this cursed prince.” I pout as I openly ogle Turo at work. I’ve never seen a man with a better ass, and I’ve seen alotof men. He moves as fluidly as a serpent, with all the grace of a cat.

The fact that, despite his slender build and smaller stature, he could break me in half if he put his mind to it is definitely part of the allure too.

“Would you have preferred Queen Dian’s eldest nephew? He’s five years younger than you, and I distinctly remember you telling me that trying to make out his handwriting gave you a raging headache.”

“At least I had a correspondence with him,” I reply, determined to be upset about this because damn it, I deserve to havesomesay in the person I end up married to, don’t I? Not according to my father, I guess. “And with Melarr of Lutha for three years now—and Melarr’s a king!”

“The king of a minor city half a continent away from here,” Turo points out. “Even the message birds can’t make that flight without getting lost half the time. And Lutha’s been too busy fending off King Embros’s incursions to send you letters for the past year. Other than them and Prince Eleas, the only other person you could reasonably have been betrothed to is Embros himself, whom youhavehad the chance to meet. Would you honestly prefer him?”

Ugh,no. My disgust must be written on my face because Turo takes one look at me and starts to laugh. It makes him look as young as he actually is, with only two years on me instead of the twenty he likes to imagine.

“Of course not,” I say, leaning down to help clean up the mess I made. “But I don’t think Father would seriously consider an offer from him, not after his attacks on Lutha and Danteen.” Or make it easier for Embros to dominate yetanothergreat city through a marriage contract, like he did with Dian of Antasa. I had no doubt Embros had asked for me, but my father would never put me in the position of second spouse, especially not to Embros.

That king is hungry for power—toohungry. My father is many things, most of them beyond frustrating, but he understands the politics at hand better than anyone. If our home city of Zephyth, wealthy with the sea’s bounty and flourishing despite how the everwinds and our own wind powers have largely abandoned us, is to remain under our control, then we need a powerful marriage alliance with a ruler who isn’t so eager for war.

That leaves Huridell to the north. That means the king’s eldest son, Eleas, a man whose father has refused to allow correspondence with him since I was old enough to formally request it. That means being given to a barbarian mountain man I’ve never met before in exchange for the safety of my family, my city, and my god.

The starkness of it all makes me tremble, but even I can’t deny that it’s more than a fair bargain for Zephyth.

Turo squeezes my shoulder. “Camrael,” he says softly.

I exhale a shuddering breath as I look up at him. He’s beautiful now that his disguise is gone, the false face he wore on his last mission abandoned since he’s back with me, safe and sound. His full lips are pressed into a concerned line, elegant eyebrows pulled low over his warm hazel eyes. His forehead is high, his cheekbones defined—he looks more like a prince than I do.

The only thing marring the effect are the streaks of white threaded through his shoulder-length hair. He’s had white hairs for as long as I’ve known him, remnants of childhood trauma he never speaks of and I never have the courage to ask about.

“Are you all right?”

No one else would even think to ask me that question. Before I realize what I’m doing, I wrap my fingers tight around his wrist and haul myself upright, then fall forward into his startled embrace. We don’t hug much—not nearly as much as I’d like—but there are no one’s arms I’d rather be in. I’m a few inches taller than Turo is, but he’s more than strong enough to hold me up.

“What if they don’t let you come with me?”

Turo’s arms tighten, one hand cupping the back of my head. “Why wouldn’t they?” He tries to keep his voice steady, but I can hear the emotions that seethe just beneath the calm. For all that he won’t close the final distance between us, he’s as devoted to me as I am to him.

“You’re the court spymaster’s second-in-command,” I point out, voice muffled from where I’m pressing my face into his shoulder. It’s a childish pose for a grown man, but I can’t help it. I can never be close enough to Turo. “You’re meant to take over when Doric retires.”

“He can train up someone else.”

“He won’t want to.”

Turo shakes his head. “He brought me here foryou. From the moment I came to Zephyth, I was yours. Everything I can do, every task I can perform or duty I can carry out—it’s all for you, Cam.” He pulls back far enough to look me in the eyes. They shine like stars, gleaming with sincerity. “No one will make me leave you.”

He believes what he’s saying. I want to believe it, too, but I know my father too well. He’s seen how I look at Turo. When I was young, people found my puppyish adoration of him endearing. As I grew older, though, the love that should have faded only flourished, and I realized too late that I should have hidden it all along.

My father won’t let anything interfere with his plans for me, especially not something as ephemeral as love. Not when there’s so much change in the air.

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