Page 70 of The War of Wings
“Do you think the flowers worry about what’s coming?” she asked wistfully, her eyes moving over the verdant color throughout the gardens, thriving despite the dry conditions. “No, they don’t. They simply bloom.”
It was an effort not to clench my fists. Was she really reducing me to a fucking flower, encouraging me to bloom while evil incarnate was strengthening somewhere out there? “Are you not worried about what’s to come?”
“Of course I am. The possibilities are never far from my mind. But I don’t want to miss the opportunity to appreciate what’s happening now.”
“I have a hard time thinking I can simply ignore the bad while enjoying the good,” I managed to say, the words measured.
“Oh, you never ignore the bad. It’s impossible to ignore.” She turned to me now, her expression unreadable as we continued our aimless wandering. “The bad will always be there, but it can live alongside the good.”
I eyed her, my mood suddenly shifting a tick mark away from irritation. Marita’s words floated into my mind. Pride and guilt. Good and bad. Simultaneous. Together. “Can I ask you a question, your Majesty?”
“Oh, the question is never good when someone has to make sure it’s okay to ask it.” She waved an elegant hand. “Go ahead.”
“I… I wasn’t raised with the best manners, so pardon me if this comes across as rude, but…” I gnawed on my lip, thinking back to what Wrena had told me about relations between Cabillia and Nesan, and then when Nell confirmed much of it. No going back now. “Did you have an affair with King Divos?”
Queen Irli let out a melodic laugh, throwing her head back. I raised a brow as I watched her try to right herself, only to descend into a fit of laughter once again. “Goodness, that isnotwhat I was expecting you to ask.” She wiped at her eyes as she caught her breath, her smile turning sorrowful. “King Divos…” she sighed, trailing off. “You care deeply for King Belin, yes?”
Her question caught me off guard, but I nodded. “I do.”
“And it’s obvious to all of us he cares deeply for you, as well.” Heat crept into my cheeks as I looked ahead. “I knew a love like that once, long ago. The wound has since healed over, but the scar remains. That sort of love doesn’t leave you.”
I swallowed hard, the ache in my chest flaring to life again. The wound Cal had left when I believed him dead suddenly felt raw. “I understand,” I murmured, trying to quell the ache.
“I loved Divos,” she stated without reservation, her chin high. “With everything I had, I loved that man, and I still do. And I believe a part of him and a part of me lived on together, though he rests in Heaven now.”
I cringed at the thought of how we’d left Heaven. “What happened?”
She let out a sigh, nodding to herself as she gestured toward a small stone bench off the pathway. Queen Irli’s eyes landed on the guards walking behind us, a silent command sending them stepping backward and out of earshot.
“My father, Saints rest his soul, was King of Nesan before Laion, as Divos’ father was King of Cabillia before him,” she started. “We were just eighteen when we met at a ball thrown by the Eddenian royal family. I know some people don’t believe in love at first sight, but that’s what it was.” Her smile was giddy at the memory, and I couldn’t help but smile along with her. “There was just something about him, I can’t describe it. It transcended the frivolity of crowns and borders and thrones.We simply both had the misfortune of wearing crowns and living behind different borders, in line for different thrones.
“His eyes were the most brilliant shade of hazel, and his laugh…” I looked away as I saw her blink back a sudden swell of tears. “My father knew I loved him, though he never acknowledged my feelings. He always reminded me of my duty.” She straightened, her eyes somewhere far off on the horizon. “As if I could ever forget. It’s tradition that Nesanian princesses enter a betrothal on their twenty-first birthday with a man of the King’s choosing. She then goes to live in that kingdom alongside him. I waited in the throne room that day, and I was bouncing out of my seat with excitement to see Divos. I’d already packed my trunks and suitcases.” Her eyes crinkled at the memory, but then they smoothed again as her smile faded. “But when the door opened, it wasn’t Divos.”
“It was Laion?”
She nodded once. “And I should’ve known. I was the sole child of my parents, but for some reason, I thought they’d still send me off to Cabillia to live alongside Divos. Since they had no male heir, the royal bloodline was to continue through me, meaning I had to stay in Araqina. I should’ve known,” she repeated, shaking her head.
I bit the inside of my cheek. She’d offered this information so freely, I wondered the last time anyone had asked her about it. “Was Laion from another kingdom?”
“He was the son of my father’s hand. We’d known each other our entire lives. He’d always been so…standoffish. Cold. I thought maybe, when he dropped his true name and became Laion, it would change, he would warm to me.”
I furrowed my brows, thoroughly confused. “Before he became Laion?”
Queen Irli took in my expression, and instead of questioning what I did and didn’t know, she simply nodded and continued, “The day the doors opened and I saw him standing there, he was not yet Laion. He still bore his true name, but as is Nesaniantradition, rulers adopt a shortened version. Our full names are no secret, but we believe they should be reserved for the Saints and those closest to us. Honoring the Saints, in a way.”
I nodded, storing away the information. “I see.”
The breath she let out was laced with regret. “I think when he saw the disappointment on my face the moment I first realized he was to be my betrothed, something inside him broke. He went from distant and cold to disdainful and frigid. And I wasn’t sure I could blame him. He knew nothing of Divos, and why would he? Why would my father deign to tell his hand about the man I loved when he’d been planning to marry me off to his son all along? He simply saw the disappointment on my face and thought it was all because of him.” Queen Irli’s perfect posture faltered for just a moment before it quickly strengthened once again, as if the weight of her words had grown too heavy for her to bear before she remembered she had no choice but to bear it. “I begged my father to allow me to marry Divos instead, but he was firm in his decision. And if I declined the marriage and decided not to marry Laion, I’d be charged with treason.”
I wasn’t sure what to say. An apology didn’t feel right. I could relate to her on the fact that she had feelings for someone she shouldn’t, but the circumstances were too different.
“So,” she continued, flexing her hands against her skirts. “I don’t love Laion. I married him. I had his children. We married off our two daughters, and both of them are happy and thriving in their new respective kingdoms. I’ve ruled by his side since we were crowned and I will until our dying days. But I do not love him. He’s been so hateful from the beginning, there was never any room for any love to grow between us.” The words hung in the air between us, both of our gazes facing forward toward the garden.
Was that why Laion held such hatred for their son? Because he wasn’t their son at all? He belonged to Irli and Divos, didn’the? My toes flexed in my boots as the pieces in my mind snapped together.
“Did you ever see Divos again?” I asked quietly.
“No.” For some reason, her answer was a punch in my stomach. “We did write letters, though.” I could tell by the look on her face that she was lost in a memory long since passed.
