Powerless trilogy 3 fear.., p.5
Powerless Trilogy 3: Fearless, page 5
part #3 of Powerless Trilogy Series
I cross my arms over my chest. “His journal entries state that Father was bribing the Healers, offering them their weight’s worth in silvers if they backed the lie that Ordinaries were slowly dwindling our powers.” I blow out a breath. “And as much as it pains me to admit it, everything written in that journal adds up. It’s no wonder every Healer lives lavishly in the higher kingdom. They have all the means and no desire to help those in the slums.”
When my gaze lands on Pae, she nods in silent gratitude before continuing, “Every Elite in this kingdom despises the Ordinaries. Getting paid to spread lies about them was only a bonus for the Healers. And the king,” she adds almost awkwardly, “took advantage of that hatred. He tried to buy my father’s silence, more than once. But he was one of the only Healers who stayed in the slums, aware of the lies but unable to do anything about them.”
“So he started the Resistance,” Kitt sighs out, still avoiding Paedyn’s wide gaze. “Calum has filled me in on all the details. As did the letter Father left me.” He looks as tired as he sounds when his fingers begin massaging the crease between his brows. “I know of the lies Healers have spread for decades.”
Paedyn swallows. “And are you going to tell the kingdom this?”
Kitt waves a dismissive hand. “Yes. Though I’ll spin the truth into something more appealing. I may have grown to despise my father in recent weeks, but that does not mean I wish to tarnish our family’s name.” He leans forward then, eying the ring on her hand that I can’t bring myself to look at. “I will protect the Azer legacy. But…” His next words are reluctant. “I will also protect you, Paedyn. The kingdom will be told a variation of what really happened outside that arena between you and the king.”
There is an edge to his voice, a bitterness I don’t recognize from him. And it doesn’t seem to be directed at me. Shoving the thought aside, I nod down toward the desk drenched in parchment. “What of the records and Calum? They convinced you to change Ilya?”
Turning to me, Kitt’s expression softens. “It wasn’t immediate. I had spoken to Calum several times, trying to glean information about the attack. Only, he spoke mostly of why there was a Resistance in the first place. I learned more about the slums and deprivation the kingdom—my kingdom—was heading toward.” His gaze drifts to Paedyn. “Everything he said paired perfectly with what I had seen the day you snuck me from the castle. I know now how that was little more than a betrayal for the Resistance”—he nearly laughs then—“but, nevertheless, it helped open my eyes.
“Calum, Mind Reader that he is, knew I was beginning to see the truth. He counseled me, suggested I marry Paedyn in order to save Ilya. I wasn’t going to. Not at first.” The king looks up at me. “But I visited the queen—your mother—and she told me of the letter Father had left for me. It was a plan, she said, for the future Edric wished Ilya to have. Something each king passes down to the next.”
He pauses to clear his throat. “It was only after reading it that I realized what needed to be done. Father didn’t care about Ilya—he hated Ordinaries. And the damning records of our dwindling food supply and overpopulation was proof of that. He failed to create an Elite society, and now we must face the consequences.”
Each word rings with disgust and betrayal. And I am glad of it. Finally, after all these years trying to please him, Kitt sees our father for what he is—was. Paedyn’s expression reflects the king’s, as though he’s spat every bit of revulsion onto her face.
“His hopes for Ilya were crippling. Simpleminded. And he wanted me to continue them for him.” Kitt shakes his head in reminiscence of a time when he would have done anything for our father. “He was destroying this kingdom for a futile cause. It was greatness he craved, and instead, he accomplished mediocrity.”
My brows lift, as if floated up by the wave of shock flooding through me. This certainly is not the brother I left mere weeks prior. Something has changed, stemming from something else as seemingly insignificant as disappointment.
“So,” Paedyn ventures skeptically, “you no longer want to obey your father’s wishes?”
She asks this knowing full well Kitt’s reputation. His whole life has been spent aiming to please a single man who he has now defied with a single decree. My gaze flicks to the king seated before us, watching words fall from lips tinged with a smile. “Why obey a man when I can be a far greater one? I once thought Father’s plans for this kingdom were worth my unflinching loyalty, but now I see that they are not.”
It’s difficult, trying to fight my smile.
Kitt has finally broken free from Father’s choking grip.
“You’re doing this solely to save Ilya.” It’s not a question from the Silver Savior, but rather, a disappointed declaration.
Kitt laces his fingers atop the desk. “I do this to make us great.”
“You don’t care for a unified kingdom?” Paedyn counters.
“That is not why I am doing this.” The king’s voice remains steady in the face of Pae’s scrutiny. “It is, for some, a positive outcome, though I don’t much care for the Elites’ powers dwindling due to repopulation with Ordinaries. Mundanes already make up half of our numbers. But we will deal with that at a later time.”
I hold my breath as Paedyn considers this for a moment. And when she leans in over the desk, so do I. “I have dreamt of a free, united Ilya all my life, and if this is the only way to achieve that, then so be it.” Her voice grows hesitant. “But it seems I have the rest of my life to change your perspective on Ordinaries.”
Kitt dips his head. “Everything has changed. And now I too wish for all of us to be united.”
My heart bangs against my chest, beating for her, beating for every moment we may never get to spend together. And when words finally spill from her lips, she might as well have plunged a dagger into my back like she promised so long ago.
“Then I will marry you, Kitt. To save this kingdom from itself.”
CHAPTER 6 Paedyn
“Remember to keep your back straight. Oh, and do try to look pleasant.”
I make a face behind the dressing curtain, fully aware that Ellie can’t see it from where she stands on the other side. “Pleasant?”
I can hear the hesitant smile in her voice. “You know, maybe smile a bit. No scowling at court members.”
“But that is so much more pleasant for me,” I say wistfully. Because that is the truth, in more ways than one. It hurts less to scowl. There is no sharp, searing sensation that accompanies the downward turn of my lips. But a smile has quickly been associated with pain, leaving little joy to remain in the action.
My fingers deftly trail the jagged scar running down the side of my neck, stopping only when it reaches my collarbone and the carving beneath it. Like braille, the severed flesh tells a story. Each drag of the king’s sword is traced along my skin, embedded into my very being.
“Are you all right back there?” Ellie’s voice grows closer. “Here, let me help you—”
“No,” I order, the word harsh enough to shock even me.
The command is met with a long, unbearable silence from the other side of the screen. Until finally, a soft “Oh, okay” shyly meets my ears.
I take a deep breath, already regretting my clipped command. But I won’t let her see my marred skin, the O branded above my heart. That piece of myself has only ever been shared with Kai. And I intend to keep it that way.
My fingers fiddle with the line of little buttons cascading down the dress’s center. Mumbling under my breath, I finally manage to secure the last one. Only then, after ensuring that the square neckline thoroughly covers the branding of my weakness, I reveal myself to a fidgeting Ellie.
“Oh, it’s lovely.” She moves to step behind me, hesitating slightly. “Um, may I tighten this tie for you?”
I swallow, once again ashamed that I’d snapped at her. My apology takes the form of a slightly pained smile. “Yes, of course.”
She makes quick work of the tie, stealing my breath with each tug. “Do you think Adena would like this dress?”
Ellie’s question makes me pause, and her sudden stillness tells me that she hadn’t intended on asking it. But for the first time since her death, the sound of Adena’s name doesn’t feel like a twisted knife to the gut. No, I want to remember her like this. See her in the stitching of a dress or in the rays of the sun. Watch her shine through every second for as long as I remain breathing the air she no longer can.
I glance at the mirror beside me, studying the planes of the dress. “She’d like the color,” I say softly. Ellie’s relieved breath tickles the back of my neck. “She would say that the deep blue brings out my eyes. But Plague knows she’d ensure the skirt was… ugh, what would she say?” I stare at the draping fabric until my eyes are crinkling with sudden recollection. “Voluptuous. That’s the word.”
Ellie giggles softly, stepping beside me to examine the dress fully. “Yes, that does sound like her.”
I run my sweaty palms over the tight bodice, avoiding my own gaze in the mirror. “Come,” Ellie says softly. “Let’s make those blue eyes pop even more.”
She ushers me to the vanity, where I sit stiffly atop the cushioned bench. My lashes are soon lined with coal, face powdered, and bruises concealed. She paints my lips a deep red, perhaps to match the blood forever coating my hands—
My breath catches at the comparison my muddled mind has made. I keep my gaze lowered after the jarring thought, hiding from my own reflection in the mirror. Because I’m scared of what I’ll see there. Will it be the broken girl staring back, or the traitor queen I’ll soon become?
“Paedyn?”
“Hmm?” My gaze lifts to Ellie, finding her staring at me in question. “Sorry, did you say something?”
She smiles comfortingly. “Yes, I asked what you wanted me to do with your hair.”
“Oh, um, just leave it.” I nod distractedly. “It will help cover my scar.”
Another sad smile. It’s not the first she’s given me. “Right.” Stepping away, she scans my face. “You look…”
Ellie trails off, and that worries me greatly. “What? If I look ridiculous, please tell me.”
“No. No, not at all.” Her gaze lingers over the length of me. “You look… hardened, in a way.”
Those words don’t surprise me. But her next ones do.
“In fact, you look like a queen.”
* * *
I spin my father’s ring beneath the massive table, if only to distract myself from the foreign one now encircling a nearby finger.
Shifting in my plush chair, I sneak a glance down the length of wood to find that nearly every gaze is already pinned on me. I lift my chin slightly before mustering a cool facade as my only defense against so many prying eyes.
The colossal table sits in the center of the throne room, and even despite its impressive size, the court is thoroughly cramped around it. My gaze climbs from the expanse of dark wood until it lands on…
Comfort. Relief. Him.
Gray eyes flick between mine, soft in that way they only are when looking at me. That tether between us grows taut, heavy with the weight of so many unspoken words. But even the strongest of ties wear over time. It will be the slow death of us, spending every day alongside each other but never truly together.
Kai’s gaze tears from mine when the looming doors swing open.
Every body clumped along the table’s edge clambers to its feet when the king enters the room. Having spent my life learning how to blend in, I quickly stand alongside them. When my eyes lift to find Kitt, it’s his brother they find their way back to—a repetition of the past I can’t seem to escape. His black tunic is cut close to the body beneath, inky like the ebony waves that fall over his brow. As if feeling my gaze, he pulls those strong arms behind his back and tosses me a quick wink.
I dip my head, hiding the twitch of my lips. Then I tuck our moment into that quiet part of my mind, right alongside the others. Just in case we never get the chance to share another.
Kitt strides to the head of the long table, where Kai flanks his right and I his left. It’s only after the king lowers himself into his extravagant seat that the court follows, numbly sitting back into their own.
“Good afternoon,” Kitt greets warmly. “I’d like to first thank you all for joining me in this meeting. I know there is much to discuss and even more to answer.”
The sheer kingliness he exudes is still jarring, in a mournful sort of way. I miss the carefree boy he was before a crown was pushed onto his head. Before I pushed him to be like this.
But his very life has led up to this moment, this ruling of a kingdom. And it suits him more than I could have imagined. Or perhaps it’s my revived hope for Ilya that has me suddenly looking at him with respect rather than revulsion.
Everything changed in that study, history unwritten and loyalties reformed. Kitt seems equally as unenthusiastic about our engagement, and I warily wonder about his feelings for me. How much does the king despise me for killing the father he once cared so dearly for? Our marriage will be nothing more than a political union, but if we are meant to spend the rest of our lives together, I hope to restore some semblance of the friendship we once had. That is, if he even wants it.
“To begin, I will first address the terrible misunderstandings we all believed to be true.” Kitt’s gaze travels around the table. “I hope then that the reasonings behind my decision will become clear.”
I take a deep breath, straightening my spine like Ellie suggested. But I don’t, however, arrange my features into something that resembles pleasantry. Instead, I remain stern, feigning strength in the face of a kingdom so eager to cut me down.
“Decades ago, Healers claimed to have found an undetectable disease hidden within the blood of Ordinaries.” Kitt’s voice carries, sounding so much like the king before him that I nearly flinch. “With prolonged exposure, that disease was said to weaken the powers of Elites. And since becoming your king, I have discovered this story to be a lie.”
Chaos erupts around the table. I sit silently within it, my heart pounding as Kitt’s liberating words hang in the air. I never thought I’d hear the truth from a king’s lips.
I lean in slightly, searching his face. But he doesn’t meet my gaze, doesn’t glance in my direction at all as he states, “Seeing that Ilya was such a weak kingdom before the Plague, King Edric did what he believed was best—banished the Ordinaries. He did this to preserve our Elite strength, offering a story that the Healers eagerly backed. You—the people—needed little convincing to rid our kingdom of those lacking power.”
Confused glances are thrown around the table, followed by hushed accusations. The king’s voice cuts through them all. “My father strengthened our kingdom greatly in the past, and for that, we should all be thankful. But now he has unwittingly weakened us by cutting off our resources, leaving me to do what I must to save us.” A long pause, a sinking in of words. “So we will welcome the Ordinaries back into Ilya.”
My lips twitch into a smile.
After decades of lies, us Ordinaries deserve a far grander reveal, a proclamation across the kingdom. But this is the best apology an Elite king will give. So I revel in it.
Kitt’s words spark an eruption that ripples down the table. Men and women of all ages push to their feet, shouting incoherently as the world they once ruled now shifts beneath them. Kitt raises a hand in a feeble attempt to regain control. But the chaos continues its destructive course, forcing me to dodge a flying elbow to my right.
“If you wish to lose your tongue, by all means, continue speaking over your king.”
Kai’s casual threat carries across the room, clamping shut even the most eager of mouths. With one final glance at the court, the Enforcer gestures casually to his king, urging him to continue.
Kitt’s green gaze brims with gratitude. He looks at Kai like he once had—like a brother. But the moment passes too quickly. Without warning, he’s suddenly morphed back into a king addressing his court. “I know this is an adjustment. I was shocked to learn of my father’s deceit, though it benefitted us all. He was a harsh man who would happily kill for power—as do most kings. And after speaking with Calum, I realized that the Resistance was simply a voice for those harmless Ordinaries.” He lets the words sink in before uttering more. “Banishing them, as my father once had, strengthened our city once. Allowing them back in now will do the same.”
My ears ring slightly as I release a shaky breath. I never thought this day would come, never imagined living in a world where I no longer had to hide what I wasn’t. Kitt may only be allowing Ordinaries back in Ilya to appease the surrounding kingdoms, but it is a start.
A man shoves to his feet across the table, and my eyes fall to the pin of Ilya’s crest that names him the court’s spokesperson. His head of mint hair is next to draw my attention, followed by the words he utters evenly. “Even without a disease, they’ll dwindle our power if we reproduce with them.”
Them.
I hadn’t realized my hands were curled into fists beneath the table until my nails threaten to draw blood. “Over time, maybe,” Kitt was saying. “For all we know, there may be benefits to mixing the blood of Elites and Ordinaries. But you will find that Ordinaries willing to procreate with an Elite are few and far between.”
Questions begin flying around the room, echoing off the many marble pillars framing it. “And what about her?” My head snaps toward the shouted accusation to find a bearded man pointing his thick finger at my face. “What about your heirs? Will you taint your royal line with the blood of an Ordinary?”
My stomach twists, lungs suddenly too tight beneath the constricting fabric of my dress. Kai jerks to his feet and nearly topples the chair behind him. I stand too, readying myself to step between my Enforcer and the man testing his patience.
