Page 104 of A Storm in Every Heart
Jett nods. “I agree. So, let’s say you’re Magnus, you propose a betrothal to Dessa as an alliance between Hydratta and Vernallis, but you know that’s not likely to work out because Dessa is hundreds of years younger than you and looks like that,” Jett gestures toward me.
I blush, but don’t interrupt. Neither does anyone else as Jett stands up from the bed and begins pacing, still thinking out loud.
“So you know the betrothal is a long shot, but you have a backup plan of organizing Dessa’s kidnapping. As soon as the kidnapping becomes public knowledge, you contact Daemon and get him to agree to go to war against Solistine together. Then, maybe, you rescue Dessa and she’s so grateful that the marriage works out anyway. But even if not, you’ve just gotten yourself the alliance with Vernallis which was the entire goal to begin with.”
He stops to take a breath. “You have to admit, it’s kind of a brilliant plan. Any way you look at that, it works out for Magnus—there’s no scenario in which he doesn’t get the alliance.”
“Except for this one,” Kastian growls. “Now that we know what Magnus had planned, Dessa won’t go to Hydratta and we’llgo back to Vernallis and tell Daemon before Magnus can get to him.”
“How long do we have, though?” I ask the room at large. “King Magnus will be expecting Connell’s crew to kidnap me, so when was he going to contact Daemon about the potential war?”
“I can answer that,” Connell says. “If?—”
Anticipating his request, Jett shoves a piece of cheese in Connell’s mouth. The pirate swallows, then grins at Jett. “I see you’re learning. Good boy.”
“Just get to the point,” Jett says grumpily.
“We were told to sail through the Stait of Scylla and around Hydratta until we reached Solistinian waters. Once there, I was supposed to wait for Hydratta or Vernallis to come after us. It would have been a suicide mission for anyone else, but for me…” he trails off, smirking.
“How long would it take to reach Solistine?” I cut in. “It would usually take over a week, but you were going by the Strait of Scylla…so five days?”
“Six,” Connell corrects.
I heave a deep breath. “Alright. We’ve already lost two days as far as I can tell, by the time we’ve slept we’ll only have four days left to reach Vernallis before Magnus contacts Daemon and Alix and tries to start a war. That’s not a lot of time—without flying or taking the train, I’m not even sure it can be done.”
“It’ll have to be possible,” Kastian says flatly. “Magnus already destroyed one kingdom, I’m not going to let him do it again or manipulate our friends into helping him do it. Someone needs to stop him, and I’ve been waiting nearly a century to do it.”
ODESSA, AGE 16
Ipractically float back to my room, my heart racing wildly and my lips still tingling.
I’m so full of excitement I can barely keep my thoughts in order and my skin feels warm everywhere Prince Kastian touched me, as if his fingers have left an indelible mark. That was my first kiss—and what an overwhelmingly perfect kiss it was.
Every doubt I had before this evening has fled.
He remembers me.
He still has my key.
Everything is falling into place.
Maybe my childhood fantasy of being a princess isn’t so crazy after all. Maybe this was always meant to be.
My thoughts come to a crashing halt when I turn the corner and see a slim woman in a purple dress standing—no, leaning—against my door. For a moment, I waver in confusion, stopping just as the figure turns toward me and my blood runs cold.
“Ah, you’re back,” Lady Lyra Von Bargen says, pushing off the wall. “Finally.”
My excited heartbeat falters, and suddenly my pulse is racing for an entirely different reason. “Lady Lyra,” I greet her stiffly. “It’s a pleasure to see you again.”
“Is it?” Lyra asks, with a note of condescension in her voice. “How odd. I’m not pleased to see you at all.”
I reel back. “Then what are you doing outside my room?”
She sneers. “I think you know.”
My heartbeat pounds with mingled anxiety and agitation, like I can’t quite decide if I should turn and run in the other direction or stand here and confront her.
The other day, Lyra seemed meek and timid, but clearly that was just an act because she’s anything but meek now. She glares at me, green eyes flashing, and everything from her posture to her severely styled black hair says that she came here seeking an argument.
