Page 92 of The Curse of a Kingdom
NAVA
When the prince of the Dark Ones walked to you in a crowd, it was expected the eyes of every stranger to follow. No longer frozen by the king, Nava could study everyone around them. There had to be at least a hundred people inside.
She spotted the king’s cohorts near the two thrones. Unlike the night she’d seen them for the first time, tonight they wore armor. Some made of aged copper, some shiny new metal. Their blackish auras billowed around them as they stood waiting for their king.
All of them held their helmets in their arms, their hair pulled back or braided, awaiting a battle to come soon. Nava wasn’t sure if she was feeling jealous of them being able to fight or admiration that they would choose to do so, even when they were no longer part of the guard.
The fae parted ways to allow Arkimedes to cross toward them with long steps. He wore a black suit with gold embroidered details on the jacket. By the time she had to crane her neck to meet him, she could hear the screeching sound of the doors opening in the distance.
“What are you wearing?” he asked between his teeth, his eyes blazing as he studied her.
“It was in my wardrobe,” she blurted, battling her need to fidget. “I assumed everything in there was acceptable for me to wear.”
“There was nothing black in mine,” Devon piped in, studying his fingernails with a quirk of his lips.
Arkimedes glared at his brother. “We’ve gotta get you two out of here.”
They walked out like souls traveling to purgatory. The tight skirt of the dress and her pointy heels made it difficult to keep up with the two giants on either side of her. Neither spoke as they went up the stairs toward the prince’s wing.
When the halls were quiet and no one was around, she couldn’t hold the silence any longer. “If what makes you so mad is that my dress is black, you have to know I didn’t do it. I didn’t even know black was the royal color until Fael came to get me. I have no reason to want to get myself killed.” Plus, there was the thought she’d had before that maybe his own magic had pushed the change to start.
“I know, Nava.” Slowing his walk, he turned to her, his voice below a whisper. “I believe our connection was what made it happen.”
Ha! She had been right; the change of her dress was related to Arkimedes’s and her connection.
“Like my father said, my magic is linked to this land. The moment you arrived here, it knew who you were because of our bond. The tree is alive, and the clothes have shifted.” It was the first time he’d looked at her so intently since their argument.
“Why didn’t it happen sooner?”
“I wouldn’t say it has been long. We have been here for, what . . . a little over a week?” Devon chimed in. “But the king did say both their magics are connected to this place . . . so it might have something to do with the king’s feelings about you.”
Nava remembered the day Leela spoke about the queen in her room, how the air had shifted. Had that been related to this as well?
“When Fael brought me to this castle, my clothes changed from the Society of Crows’ uniform to a deep black shade in a matter of days,” Ark said. “There is no fooling this magic from what runs through our blood.”
For once, Devon’s face was not one of mocking triumph. “We need to leave,now. If the king finds out she is your . . . you know what, he can hold her to get you to do things you might not want to.”
He was an expert in evildoing, after all. Was that what he’d intended to do last year when he captured her in battle? He had been so sure Arkimedes would follow. She held her tongue; it wouldn’t help their circumstances for her to pick a fight with Devon at this moment.
They had stopped in front of Devon’s door, and Arkimedes’s hand hovered over the door handle. “I won’t leave when my kingdom is being attacked by the Zorren.”
“So what then? We stay here and wait for the king to take her . . . and kill me?” Devon challenged, stepping into the room without a look back.
Arkimedes’s eyes landed on her. A pained expression that matched the churning in her stomach stared back at her. He had not said the words, but the dread building in him . . . she felt it clear through their bond.
Nava shook her head, wanting to reach to him and hold his hand, but her throat tightened with the realization that she didn’t feel like she could. “Whatever you are thinking . . .”
“It will be better if we speak in Devon’s room,” he said instead.
Her stomach dropped, and cold shot through her body. With the screeching sound of the door opening wider, he shifted his body and waited, silent.
Nava straightened her back. The prickle of her magic came alive under her skin, and white bees hovered over her, a protective shield to guard her breaking heart.
The room was as opulent as she had imagined it. With natural drapes and white-and-gold couches. The floor and fireplace were polished white marble, and the click of her heels echoed in the quiet room, right before the door snapped shut behind her.
Devon cursed out loud, his wide eyes staring at her as the bees circled her body. “Has she been able to do magic all along? Why the hell are we still here, Nava?”
Her chin shook with pent-up emotion as Arkimedes’s morose mood pushed through the bond. He didn’t even need to speak the words for her to know he wanted them to be separated.
