Page 42 of Spring Guardians & Songbirds

The weather in Sitara was at the warmest it had been in months. Snow had held to her bargain and pulled her hand of work over Adriata. No more eudemons had stepped in my lands for days, no sightings of unblessed ships sailing by my ports either. No more lilies of the valley growing all over cities.

Triad took my side as we walked across the villages that had been ruined during the eudemon attacks. “You haven’t brought her to meetings yet. Court should start getting used to her sitting beside you.”

“It is not time yet.” Was all I said. Not until I made sure she didn’t fear being around more Adriatians that she didn’t know.

“The people are saying that we have righted our wrong from thirteen years ago. Some are saying that the queen has brought blessings along with her.”

“Perhaps they are not entirely wrong.” In a very small fiendish sense. “Though what we allowed to happen thirteen years ago can never be righted, Triad.”

He heaved a long sigh. “Her blood is Krigborn and that is for sure. Her wit is testament to that. But the Krigborn are cold and merciless—she is not cold. She is frost, cruel. She does not aim to kill. She aims to punish. The Krigborn get what they want quick and fast. They don’t torture their prey, they hunt to eat. Your wife enjoys the hunt more than the feed.”

“It is how she was taught. Take the world, bend it, twist its bones and dry its blood—it is how you can make it yours. It was how Silas raised his three children. I’ve seen a small part of his cruelty on her, it was enough to convince me that I didn’t want to imagine the rest. And no, Krigborns don’t torture their prey, they torture their own children to become a sharp blade for which they use to torture others.”

“Do you think she can be fixed?”

Fixed? The word made me bristle though I knew Triad had not meant it as such. “There is nothing wrong with her. Nothing. Not one bit. She just needs to learn that there are other things a human can be besides what Silas has taught her to be.”

“And you’ll teach her?”

“No, I’ll be there to see that she does learn.” It’s why I made this bargain with her in the first place. See that she doesn’t lose to her own self amid all that was going on.

The old city lay on a cliff overlooking the Sea of the Dark. While the coast was clear, blue and sun kissed, the further away from land you looked, the more you could see and feel the lingering presence of Golgotha’s creatures that herded in the depths.

“It was said that the Octa Virga resided in Nephthys,” I said, staring ahead and over the black smog and thunder that marked the land of the eudemons. Though many had attempted to, no one had crossed the dark waters. How had the king of Seraphim sailed through them to the gods' forsaken island clouded in Golgotha’s magic and Crafter veils?

Triad followed my line of sight. “The Octa Virga. Never had I thought I would have heard that spoken aloud. My grandfather used to recite me tales of the Ithicean guardian whose feathered wings lit with white fire would come alive. This was not how I imagined fairy tales coming to life—not as Silas’s leverage over the realm.” He sighed and faced me again. “We know nothing of it. The queen will know soon enough that your bargain was barely a hoax to steal time.”

“I plan on finding it, Triad. My bargain was a true bargain.”

“And then what? Hand it to her?”

“You have very little faith in my wife. And if your reasoning is that she is Silas’s daughter, I suggest you rethink it. We have a common enemy. And he is more hers than he is mine.”

“Answer me only this, Kilian,” Triad said. “Once time comes for her to claim her revenge, will you fight her? Will you protect Adriata?”

A soldier ran toward us, red and sweating. “It’s the queen. She’s left a…a body in Amaris, one of the old councillors.”

Hells this woman. “Make sure that it is removed.”

The soldier blinked a bit confused. “My king, he…he is in…small pieces.” He cringed a bit and swallowed like he was ready to gag. “The animals are already…picking them up.”

Triad chuckled and ran a hand over his face. “I think I like her.” When I pointed a look on him, the ancient Aura shrugged. “She wants to send a message and she well sent it.” He patted my shoulder. “Your wife has prepared herself well to face her fear. It is time Adriata faces theirs.”

My corridors were unusually littered with guards. The place I kept clean of weapons and violence. The place which I called a home and where my family could roam without feeling suffocated. It was unusual for soldiers to disobey me. Though there was something else more unusual—grown men and women that I’d trained myself, shaking and sweating from fear.

Distress of all sorts clouded the air. Angry, scared, agonised and expectant distress.

It was past sunset and almost time for Snow to retreat to Adriata. But the fear was not worn with expectation, but with caution.

Mal exited his room, looking battered up and tired. Attempting to button his shirt and failing from the shakiness of his fingers. “She came an hour ago. Made a few you call soldiers shit their flowery knickers and went to your room,” he said, patting my shoulder and walking past the corridor, whistling some sort of a wrong pitched tune.

A running water sound came from my chambers. There were blood spatters on the door handle and bloodied boot prints all over my bedroom floor trailing to a pile of grey leathers, the ones that Snow and her soldiers wore.

Had she been injured?

My attention snapped to water sliding and spreading all over my tiles, escaping from under the bathroom door.

Immediately, I rushed towards her. The whole bathroom floor had flooded all over with water that poured from the overflowing bath. She laid back on the tub, her head hung over the edge, eyes tightly shut, her long hair matted and shining a murky ruby. Water rose to her neck and was overflowing all over. It was murky and stained a dull crimson—blood.