Page 146 of The War of Wings
“Apologies for startling you. May I sit?” he asked carefully, and I nodded. He let out a deep sigh as he held a goblet in my direction. “Ale?”
“Got anything stronger?”
He reached for his hip, producing a flask. “Whiskey?”
“Perfect.” I tugged the cork from its place, wincing as the liquid burned its way down my throat before I passed the flask back to him.
The waves worked their way closer to our boots as the tide crept back in. “I want to apologize to you, Queen Petra,” he said carefully, and there was a sincerity in his voice I’d never heard from him, a lack of that gravelly grumble that so often accompanied his downturned face. His fingers flexed nervously around the goblet clutched in his hands. “I did not want to believe your claims, even when they were proven true right before my eyes.”
I swallowed hard, savoring the residual heat from the whiskey. “I understand,” I answered, and it was the truth. I hadn’t wanted to believe it either.
“And I want to apologize for the way I spoke to you. All of this…” He trailed off, a weighted breath leaving his lips. “I didn’t truly realize the depth and breadth of the evil we faced until today. Facing it…changed me.”
I eyed him where he sat beside me as he stared at the waves.
“When I was a boy,” he started before I could respond, “my father was the King’s hand, and he… He was not a kind man, either. I grew up surrounded by much fear, you see. And the previous king, Irli’s father, saw much of my upbringing and did not intervene. And instead of doing better, I grew up to be just like my father.” The last few words were stilted, each one its own separate lament. He took a deep drink from his goblet, his breath shuddering after he swallowed. “And my son… He was everything to me, but I always kept my distance. Thought it would make him kinder. But when he chose the path of blood magic… Well, when Ithoughthe chose the path of blood magic.”
I bit the inside of my cheek. “I don’t believe that justifies the way you treated him and others.”
“I seek to make no excuses for the things I’ve done.” He turned to me now, an earnestness in his face visible in the moonlight. “But I seek to heal the wounds I’ve caused, your Majesty. I seek to repair what I’ve broken. I… I understand I lost that chance with my son. I will never forgive myself for that. But our final days together…” He swallowed hard, the sob catching in his throat. “I said what I needed to say, as did he. And I have a grandson now. I have you to thank for that.”
I pursed my lips, inhaling a deep breath of salty air. “An apology and a thanks? Are you feeling okay, King Laion?” I asked with a dry laugh, trying to infuse some humor into the tension I felt.
“I am. And what about you Queen Petra?” he asked, his tone cautious once again. “How are you faring?”
The question was a knife in my chest, and I closed my eyes against his words. I opened my mouth to respond, but the words wouldn’t come forth. I wasn’t okay. I’d never be okay again. Even when the dust settled, when Cal and Katia and Rhedros and Adorex and all the dead were long since buried, when the armies marched back to their respective kingdoms, and when this day was nothing but a page in a book in the Araqinan library, I wouldn’t be okay.
Laion pushed the cork back into his flask, speaking carefully, as if he could feel my tension in the quiet. “On the outside, it’s a victory. Malosym is dead, and that is what they’ll sing in the songs written for this day. No one will ever know the true cost. Only you. It will go unnoticed by most of the world, most of history. But not by me or my people. I will make sure of it.”
Tears flooded my eyes again. Maybe nasty, shitty King Laion had been better. I didn’t like the tears this Laion was bringing out of me. “Thank you,” I managed to choke out.
Laion pushed to his feet, offering a hand. “Allow me to escort you back to camp.”
“Thank you, but I think I’ll stay out here a bit longer,” I murmured, unable to meet his eyes.
“Of course. Goodnight, your Majesty.”
All I managed was a weak smile, and then I was alone again, with nothing but the waves and my grief.
I reached for the crowns absentmindedly, staring down at the gemstones that blinked in the moonlight. I’d been too afraid to think of life beyond the Human Realm. What if it hadn’t been enough? What if everything I’d done hadn’t been enough to restore the realms beyond this one?
My leg bounced as nervous energy suddenly buzzed to life in my chest, the thought so large and intrusive I had no choice but to think of it. Heaven. The Saints’ Realm.
Fuck.
I’d woken up somewhere besides the Darkness Beyond after I killed Malosym. The Saints’ Realm, maybe, since Onera had been there. And I’d simply willed myself back here to the Human Realm.
“Going to try traveling between realms again?” a voice cut through the sound of the waves, and I looked over to see Nell trudging through the sand.
A humorless laugh escaped me. “How could you tell?”
“I figured it was only a matter of time.” She lowered herself to sit beside me. “I only have a minute. Whit lost a card game against a soldier from Aera, so now he has to run naked into the ocean. Made him wait until I get back.”
I raised a brow. “And you want to be there to see that?”
“I want to be there to shield everybody else from seeing that.” My lips pulled up in an involuntary smile as Nell’s laugh quieted. The air between us suddenly changed, and Nell’s tone sobered as she reached into a pocket in her tunic. “Tyrak asked me to give you this, if the worst happened.”
My hand closed around a small, thin book. “What is it?” I asked.
