Page 133 of Across an Endless Sea

How do I tell her that my gut just wants to curl up under my covers and hide like a child? That I’m not ready for war, for making decisions that affect the lives of others, and I’m definitely not ready to wear the crown of a realm I know almost nothing about?

I can’t. Because whining about how things are won’t change anything.

“Well, my gut says we have to be better than Elatha,” I whisper. “He used Caed’s name against him. I won’t be like that. Not unless I have no other choice.”

If Caed comes after me, or attacks my Guard and the people I care about, I’ll use my powers against him. Until then…

“I don’t think Caed is the issue,” I muse. “Or if he is, he’s not one that can be solved with magic. Danu gave him six months. What he does with them is up to him, but he can’t be locked in a cell or brainwashed into being trustworthy.”

I’m still not a hundred percent certain that Drystan is even capable of trust. Charming Caed can’t change how cagey my Guard is.

Kitarni releases me and steps back with a nod. “Then we focus on the things we can control until the situation develops.”

“The coronation,” I nod. “Then the pilgrimage.”

The dryad offers me a small smile. “Precisely.” She waves a hand towards the stairs. “This might not be the right time, and it’s definitely not how I imagined telling you, but I have a surprise prepared for you.”

Bree moves out of the way as she leads us both up towards my garden room.

“A surprise?” I echo.

“You’ll see,” she promises, but her small smile dissolves after her first step. “I truly am sorry, Rose. I never thought…”

“It was my fault,” I reply. “Like you said, I should’ve said something.”

“No. It’s difficult to speak up, being around so many strong opinions with stronger personalities,” the dryad insists. “I used to struggle with it as well. Going forward, I’ll make sure you’re given time and space to come to your own decisions, without pressure, until you’re comfortable speaking up for yourself.”

The rough ridge of her brow creases in a determined frown, and I offer her a small smile. “Thanks.”

“You’ll learn quickly enough,” Kitarni reassures me. “I did.”

I snort. “You’re telling me you had problems speaking your mind?”

Even if she wasn’t the most senior figure in the fae priesthood, Kitarni is the kind of person who just commands attention in a conversation without meaning to. Her aura of quiet confidence makes it hard to imagine her holding back or being convinced into anything she doesn’t want to do.

Kitarni looks at Bree, who’s trailing behind us, then shrugs. “I suppose it can’t hurt to tell you, but I was born a whore.”

I blink at her.How does that even work? She’s part tree. Does everything still—No! Not going there. I amnotasking Kitarni how dryads procreate.

“My mother was indentured to a brothel in Siabetha, though it was a nicer one than the Toxic Orchid. Usually whores have the option of working through their fever to pay back more of their debt. She was a gambler, and she took the chance to reduce her contract by a century.”

I glance back at Bree, but his expression is tight and unreadable.

“Fae births are so rare, I was unexpected,” Kitarni continues. “When I was born, I was raised by the brothel, incurring my own debt, which was expected to be paid back when I matured.”

“You were a baby!” I hiss. “They can’t do that.”

“They weren’t forcing me to work for them,” Kitarni clarified. “But I understood that all my food had to be paid for. If I’d taken up skilled work, I could’ve repaid the debt as any other loan. The interest was fair. It wasn’t a bad life, and I liked my childhood.”

“So did you…?”

“I paid it back by using my gift. I made potions to prevent pregnancies, potions to cure dick rot, and salves for use after rough customers. It was lucrative, and I sold other potions on the side to build up a small savings pot of my own. Once my debt was clear, I freed my mother and followed her back to her glade where we spent time amongst our own kind.”

“So how did you become a priestess?” I ask, confused.

“Whore to priestess isn’t the traditional route,” Kitarni admits. “I left the glade due to a disagreement. I travelled, ran out of money, and wandered into a temple in Pavellen…” She shrugs. “The rest was history. Alvar—your mother’s high priest—found me decades later and told me he’d been sent visions of me as his replacement. It took years of studying under him before I was prepared to take his place. I didn’t feel ready when I ascended, if I’m truly honest. There will always be those who argue I’m still not ready.”

“The trouble that Prae talked about?” I ask, turning the corner onto the final staircase.

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