The endless war, p.27
The Endless War, page 27
“I know that I’m going to hurt him.” Zarrah took a deep breath to steady her voice, despite knowing it to be a lost cause. “And I know that means you and I will never be friends. But I hope that doesn’t mean we must be enemies, Your Grace.”
Silence stretched between them, the only noise the sea striking the ship’s hull as they raced over the waves, the roughness of the water mirroring the turbulence of her thoughts.
Then Lara reached across the table and took hold of one of Zarrah’s hands. Her skin was as marked with scars as Zarrah’s own, palms rough with calluses, yet traces of pink lacquer still gleamed on a few of her fingernails. The juxtaposition somehow made the Queen seem so painfully human, and Zarrah swallowed grief at the friendship that they might have had if circumstances had been different. If they weren’t who they were, because Lara knew as well as Zarrah what it was like to be used as a weapon.
“I see why he loves you,” Lara said. “You are everything each other is not, perfect foils, and I fear what he will become without you.” She squeezed Zarrah’s hand, then let go and rose. “And you without him.”
With that, the Queen of Ithicana left the room, leaving Zarrah feeling more alone than she had before.
42
KERIS
“Keris. Keris, wake up.”
He groaned, eyelids peeling open even as pain slapped him in the face, his whole body still feeling like it burned. A face swam above him, and he blinked, focusing on Lara.
“You need to wake up,” she said. “We’re in sight of the Valcottan coast.”
His sluggish mind struggled to process her words, but he finally managed to say, “Whatever you drugged me with, don’t give it to me again.”
“You needed rest.”
“That wasn’t rest,” he muttered, still feeling the terror of the nightmare that had repeated over and over.
Getting an elbow under himself, he tried to get upright, but pain turned his vision white. “Fuck,” he said through his teeth. “It hurts worse than it did before.”
“Anything I give you will knock you out,” Lara said, easing him up.
“Then pain it is.” It took a fair bit of self-control not to scream as she shoved cushions behind his back. “Your nursemaid skills leave something to be desired, sister.”
Lara snorted. “You’re lucky you’re not a ripening corpse.”
Visions from his dreams filled his mind’s eye, and Keris flinched, covering the motion by guzzling the glass of water she handed him. “Is she…”
“She’s fine.” Lara refilled his glass and then adjusted his blanket like he was some sort of invalid. Which was perhaps accurate. “She just needs space.”
Keris’s chest tightened, because the person Zarrah needed space from was him.
What did you expect? the voice whispered. For her to be sitting by your side?
“We’re taking her to join the rebels,” Lara said. “Then we’ll return to Ithicana. We’ll make arrangements for you to return to Maridrina, and then I suppose we’ll wait to see what strides Zarrah makes with the rebels. You need to rest. Regain your strength.”
She was right, but there was too much to do. “I need to speak to Zarrah.”
His sister looked away, her jaw tightening. “I don’t think that’s wise. Better to leave her be.”
Keris shoved away the bowl of broth she’d placed in front of him. He realized now that when he’d told Lara that he didn’t expect Zarrah to forgive him, he’d been full of shit. That in his selfish and arrogant core, he’d thought that risking everything to rescue her would matter. That it would earn him, if not another chance, then at least some form of…of…well, he didn’t know exactly what.
The door opened, and Jor stepped inside. “We’ve found ourselves a cove north of Arakis, but we need to be fast. There are patrols, and they’re quick to sink those they believe are attempting to avoid port taxes.” His eyes locked with Keris’s. “The plan is to bring Zarrah to the beach by longboat, then part ways.”
Did she even plan to say goodbye?
He’d sailed half the continent, risked life and limb, to haul her ass out of the worst prison in the known world, and he wasn’t even worth a goddamned goodbye.
“Aren’s asking for you,” Jor said to Lara.
His sister made a face, then said, “Stay with Keris. Make sure he doesn’t do anything that will aggravate that wound.” Then she rounded on him. “You’re Maridrina’s king. Your kingdom is a mess, yet you’ve left it in the hands of a half sister you barely know, all the men and women who run it duped into believing you’re in Ithicana by Ahnna and her forgers, who will have your people convinced you’ve agreed to God knows what. You need to go back, and Zarrah needs to press forward. She will need your support, but you can only give it from Vencia. You can only give her what she needs if you are Maridrina’s king, and that means you must be apart.”
“If I go back and something happens to her, what then?” he asked. “How long until Petra, her rule secure, marches north? Maridrina doesn’t have the strength to defend Nerastis when she decides to take it. Doesn’t have the strength to stop her if she presses north, taking my territory and slaughtering my people. In going to war with Ithicana, Father played into her plans, because Maridrina is weaker now than it has ever been, and me sitting in his tower in Vencia will not change that. Ensuring Zarrah has the chance to take back the crown will.”
“Never mind that Zarrah’s twice the fighter you are, how do you expect to help her when you’re barely out of your deathbed?” Lara threw up her hands. “She doesn’t even want you with her, Keris. She wants to do this alone. So let her.”
Rather than answering, Keris slowly climbed to his feet. “Take care of yourself, Lara.” He caught hold of her chin, forcing her to meet his gaze. “You are the queen Ithicana needs, little sister, and in time, it will become the kingdom you deserve.”
Her eyes flooded, though no tears escaped. “You’re an idiot.” Then she flung her arms around his middle, squeezing him hard before twisting away. “Jor, take care of him.”
The old Ithicanian exhaled a long breath after she’d left, then turned to Keris. “Want me to find you something stiff to drink so you have an excuse for doing something stupid?”
“Yes,” Keris answered. “Though I suspect it will take more than one drink.”
43
ZARRAH
Zarrah stood at the rail, watching the coast of Valcotta grow on the horizon, both counting down the minutes until she could start on the path to ridding her nation of a tyrant and wishing that time would stand still.
The ship cautiously maneuvered its way closer to shore, eventually dropping anchor in a small cove with a rocky beach, steep hills covered in pine trees rising up from the water. There was no reason to linger and every reason to rush, yet Zarrah found herself frozen by the rail.
Lara and Aren approached where she stood, Aren giving orders to his crew to ready a longboat.
Zarrah chewed the insides of her cheeks, then asked, “Is he awake?”
Ithicana’s queen gave a short nod. “Awake and on his feet. He knows your plans. Knows you are leaving.”
Yet hadn’t come up to say goodbye.
It’s for the best, she reminded herself even as she stood motionless. You need to focus on Valcotta. He needs to return to Maridrina. Everything that needs to be said can be communicated through messengers.
No, her heart whispered. Not everything. You need to say goodbye.
Against her will, Zarrah turned to look at the door to the captain’s cabin. He deserves acknowledgement, she told herself as she waited. Deserves a thank you for everything he’s done. Deserves…
“Damn it,” she said between her teeth, struggling to breathe, for it felt like a vise had formed around her chest. If she went into that room, words would pour from her lips that would give life to what was between them. Would give hope. And that was crueler than not saying goodbye, because no matter how much her heart might wish otherwise, there was no future between them.
Valcotta couldn’t afford it.
Slinging a leg over the edge, she climbed down the ladder into the longboat, Aren following. “We need to hurry,” she said to him. “The navy patrols for smugglers, and that’s how this will appear.”
“You have everything you need?”
“Yes.”
A lie, for she found herself looking back at the ship. Hoping to see him on the deck. Through a window.
Nothing.
The boat reached the shallows, the Ithicanians leaping out and cursing the frigid water as they pulled it onto the beach.
“Feels like the last time we parted ways,” Aren muttered, eyeing the dense forest. “Watch your back.”
Zarrah stepped onto the slick rocks of the beach, patting her bag full of coin and supplies. “Thank you.”
Aren hesitated, then said, “I wish there was more I could do for you, Zarrah, but I need to be back in Ithicana.”
She smiled. “I appreciate the sentiment, but this is my fight.”
Every minute they lingered put them at risk, but Zarrah’s eyes still drifted to the ship, searching for Keris’s familiar golden hair.
Nothing.
“Goodbye, Your Grace,” she said to Ithicana’s king, then stood watching as the Ithicanians rowed him back to the ship. Only then did she start walking. Her eyes burned with unshed tears, but Zarrah didn’t look back as she climbed the narrow path up the hill, the scent of pine thick in her nose. Up and up, not pausing until she broke out of the trees. There, she stopped to look out over the sea, watching the ship sail toward the horizon.
It’s over, she chanted to herself. It’s over.
It would never be over.
“Don’t shed too many tears over their departure,” a voice said from behind her. “For all his protests to the contrary, I expect that Aren will be unable to resist sticking his nose into this rebellion. He really does not like your aunt.”
Zarrah spun, pulling loose the sword buckled at her waist, the familiar velvet tones of Keris’s voice registering a heartbeat before her eyes latched upon him. He sat on a rock, a half-empty bottle of wine and a selection of cheese sitting beside him, a wineglass in one hand.
“What are you doing here?” she shouted before whirling back to the sea. But the ship was too far gone to signal. “They’re going to think you fell overboard!”
“I doubt it,” Keris answered, sipping at his wine. “Was Jor who rowed me to shore, and it was Aren who took his time dropping anchor to give us the time to do so.”
An unjust sense of betrayal filled her that Aren had known and said nothing. “Why? Why the fuck are you here, Keris?”
“Because you and I need to have a conversation.”
“Then we should’ve had it on the ship,” she shouted. “I’m grateful for all you’ve done for me, Keris. Truly, I am. But this is my fight. I need to focus on Valcotta. You need to go back to Maridrina.”
Keris took a sip of his wine, then set the delicate glass on the rock next to the cheese. “Are those your orders?”
She didn’t answer.
Rising to his feet, Keris walked toward her, the intensity in his azure eyes causing Zarrah’s stomach to flip.
He stopped in front of her, and she swayed, uncertain of whether she wanted to step forward or back. Whether she needed to attack or retreat.
“I can be reasoned with. Convinced. Persuaded.” He leaned closer, his voice low as he said, “But when it comes to matters of my family, my people, or my kingdom, I will not be ordered.”
Zarrah lifted her chin, meeting his stare unblinking. “You presume to—”
“I’m not finished.” His breath was warm, scented faintly with the wine he’d been drinking. “The reigning empress of Valcotta has her sights trained on my back. Wants to destroy me, my family, and my people. Wants to burn Maridrina to ash, yet you have the audacity to tell me that this is not my fight. To tell me to go back to Vencia to wait for your instructions like I’m one of your soldiers and beholden to your orders. I am not.”
“You think—” She cut off as his head tilted, eyes narrowing.
“And this isn’t the first time. Despite the fact your plots with Ithicana had a catastrophic impact on my kingdom and people, you didn’t involve me. Instead you came to the dam in Nerastis for the sole purpose of telling me how it was going to be.” He leaned closer still. “You had no right.”
Her heart was throbbing with such intensity that Zarrah swore it might burst from her chest. Countless emotions filled her, but she clung to the one that always served her best. Anger. “But you had the right? You betrayed my confidence and used the information I trusted you with to make your own plans, then stood on Southwatch Island and told me how it was going to be. For you to stand here and berate me is hypocrisy. Worse than hypocrisy, because at least I didn’t betray you.”
“Didn’t you?” His voice was cool, but the pulse at his throat was rapid. “We planned together how we’d end the war. How we’d build a peace between our kingdoms so future generations might grow up without the cloud of violence over their heads. If I’d stood aside and done nothing, if you’d taken your ships into legitimate battle to expel my father from Ithicana, it would have been oil on the flames of the Endless War. Not that you’d have lived to see it, because if you didn’t manage to martyr yourself in battle, you’d have been executed as a traitor for having failed to follow Petra’s orders. I’d have been left alive with a shattered heart in the ashes of a future that you burned, and I challenge you to tell me that’s not a fucking betrayal, Valcotta.”
She flinched, then erased the slap of his words with vitriol of her own. “You didn’t betray me for Maridrina. You betrayed me for yourself. Because you couldn’t stand to let me go.”
“Hypocrisy abounds, because we both know that you betrayed me not because it was the only path forward, not even because it was the best path forward, but because it satisfied your honor, your need for atonement, and your desire for vengeance.”
Zarrah’s lips parted to deny deny deny, but no words came because she had no breath. “I…” she managed to say, then broke off to gulp in a mouthful of air. “I did it because it was the right thing to do.”
Silence.
“I don’t know,” Keris finally said, “whether you are lying to me or whether you are lying to yourself.”
Instinct demanded that she lash out. That she stab the knife of his own failings and twist it deep, but instead Zarrah forced herself to ask her heart that same question. The truth that rose up from the depths of her soul made her eyes burn with tears. “Neither do I.”
Keris’s throat moved as though he were swallowing hard. “I told myself I had no regrets for turning my father on Eranahl to keep you out of the battle. That saving your life was worth any price. But…” He turned away, eyes fixed on the sea. “There was a moment where we were unified and all things were possible, and somehow I…somehow we lost that beneath the weight of more selfish motivations. I regret my part. Wish there was a way to find my way back to that place.”
Grief settled upon her, drowning out every other emotion and leaving the world faded and grey. Because he was right.
But so was her aunt.
For all they’d been unified in their desires, it was their desire for each other that ensured their dreams would fail. He was the King of Maridrina. She intended to become the Empress of Valcotta. For there to be a true and lasting peace, they needed to be wholly dedicated to their people, which would never happen if they spent their nights in each other’s arms. “We can’t go back, Keris. I won’t.”
The icy wind pulled a lock of his hair loose from the tie at the back of his head, sending it fluttering like a strand of cornsilk across his face as he gave a slow nod. “I love you, Zarrah. You say that I don’t know what love is, and maybe that’s true. Maybe there is some part of me missing or broken that ensures I don’t feel things like a better man would, but I know the way I feel about you consumes me. That it gives me breath even as it steals the air from my lungs. Makes my heart beat even as it cuts it from my chest. What word I give it matters little. What matters is that even after my bones are dust and my name lost to history and history lost to time, I will feel this way for you.”
Zarrah’s resolve faltered as he scrubbed tears from his cheeks. But before she could speak, he said, “You say there is no going back, and I respect that, but I must ask if there is a way forward. As political allies.”
This was what she’d wanted from him, yet Zarrah felt as though she’d been punched in the stomach.
“Petra needs to be removed from power,” Keris pressed on, though she didn’t miss how his hands balled into fists. Her own nails were also digging into her palms. “Neither nation will know peace if she keeps the crown, and you and I, working together, are best equipped to remove her. So as Maridrina’s king, I’d like to offer a formal alliance to the rightful empress of Valcotta so that our nations might achieve mutual desirable ends.” Then he stuck out his hand like a market trader sealing a deal.
Zarrah stared at the hand that knew every curve of her body. That had touched her in ways no one else had. And no one else would.
This is the right choice, the voice in her head whispered. The right path forward for Valcotta.
But could she hold to it?
Shoving aside the thought, Zarrah gripped his hand, the heat of it chasing away the chill in her own fingers. “I accept.”
Their hands remained clasped for longer than was appropriate; then Keris pulled away.
