Echoes of Silence (22 page)

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Authors: Elana Johnson

BOOK: Echoes of Silence
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“Lucia,” I breathed. “When have you been working on this?” The silver fabric reminded me of a bolt of lightning, hot and unpredictable. Uneasiness scorched my insides, so the dress complimented my mood.

“I haven’t been sleeping enough.” She smoothed her hand over the cloth at my waist. “Which would be fine if you didn’t wake so early.” She stepped back and grinned at me.

“You’ve been keeping secrets!”

She laughed, a devilish twinkle in her eye. “I have others, too. You have not seen all my work, ‘dearest.’”

“Lucia,” Greta admonished, but I simply laughed at her impression of Cris.

All too soon, Greta and Lucia disappeared, leaving me with my thoughts. The door opened, and Castillo entered, wearing a suit of charcoal and a ruby colored tie. He looked every bit as handsome as Cris, every bit as regal, every whit as kingly. My heart pushed blood through veins that had constricted at the mere sight of him.

I stood and watched as he closed the door and moved closer. “Echo,” he murmured, and my chest squeezed a little tighter. “You are stunning. Congratulations on your engagement.”

I noted the formality of his words and the careful way he stopped a safe distance away. I suddenly wondered why he’d stayed away for so many days. Perhaps he, like me, had realized the folly of our budding relationship, and knew we couldn’t become more than bonds.

“I will miss you,” I whispered.

“I will be with you.” He stepped closer to me. “We’re bonds. We’ll always have that.” He embraced me, and I breathed in the wet stone smell of him.

I moved away. “What were you doing in Nyth these past few weeks?” I slipped my arm into his and tugged him toward the courtyard.

“I cannot tell you.”

“Cris will tell me then.”

“No. You mustn’t ask him.”

“I don’t understand why you won’t tell me. This shouldn’t be a secret anymore.”

He exhaled in an exasperated way. “I do not wish you to know.”

“Does it have anything to do with your agenda to equalize the royal bloodlines? Then
you
would be first in line for the throne.” I folded my arms across my chest.

He stepped back, his face a mixture of anger and shock. “Who told you?”


You
should have told me.”

“I did not—”

“—wish you to know,” I said with him. “But why, Castillo? You realize this makes me doubt you in every way.” I paced to the end of the courtyard and spoke to the stones. “I doubt whether your plan for me to rule is altruistic or not. I doubt whether you want what’s best for Cris at all!”

“That’s smart, I suppose,” he said quietly. I spun to find that he now faced the palm fronds in the corner. “When I went to Nyth, my father wasn’t pleased to see me. I begged him to release Cris of his kingly duties. He doesn’t wish to be High King. I said I’d do it. I could be a noble king.” He cleared his throat. “My father knows Helena hails from a royal line, albeit obscure and unrecognized. He beat me and then he sent his guards to finish the job. I only survived long enough to return to Umon because of the personal magic I possess.”

My hands shook at the memory of Castillo’s pain, the blood leaking from his ruined mouth. He must have chanted a slowing spell to keep his blood loss at a minimum. Or perhaps he’d sung a spell to keep his body from feeling pain.

“Castillo, I’m sorry.” The words sounded inadequate, because they were.

“It’s not your fault. My father is not an honorable king. He won’t step down, nor will he allow Cris to do so. He will kill me before he allows me to expose his cover-up of my mother’s heritage. He will never allow his bastard son to be more than a soldier.”

I lightly touched his shoulder and turned him toward me. “Maybe instead of fighting for a recognized bloodline, we should focus on grooming Cris to become the king he should be. My grandmother said the ancients give kings many chances to rule honorably. He deserves that much.”

“The ancients don’t have as much sway as they once did.” Castillo’s eyes grew stormy. “They have abandoned these lands across the seas.”

“I refuse to believe that,” I said. Grandmother had bragged of their kindness, their utmost care.

“It’s called lore for a reason, Echo.”

I squinted at him. “The stories are
not
foolish beliefs. The ancients of Relina are real.”

“They’ve done nothing to interfere with my father, nor his many years of poisoning their power.”

A sharp sensation tugged at my stomach, yet I refused to believe the ancients had abandoned these lands.

Castillo swayed to a melody only he could hear, the fight leaving his shoulders. “It doesn’t matter. My father has spent over two decades shaping Cris into a weakling. He did it purposely, Echo, so that by the time Cris takes the throne, my father’s power-hungry magicians can use him as a puppet. It is they who will truly rule.” He dipped his mouth closer to my ear. “I would rather you guide Cris than them.”

The thought of the High King ruining and using magicians to satisfy his will brought a fire to my core. Before I could answer, a bell rang. It sounded musical, not like the emergency bell we’d used in Iskadar, nor the siren from my first week in the compound. I’d never heard anything like it, and I turned toward my suite in alarm. “What’s that?”

“Cris is summoning the citizens.” He laced his fingers in mine and squeezed. “To introduce them to their soon-to-be princess.” He led me through the glass door and called for Greta to ensure he hadn’t smudged my makeup.

#

I stood with Cris behind a closed door, my heart thundering in my chest like a herd of wild horses. My dress felt too bright, my hair too black. I felt haphazardly stuck together, with too many pieces that didn’t belong in some spots, and not enough essential parts in others.

“I cannot breathe.” I gasped, and Cris reached for my hand. His magic flowed into me, calming me from the inside out. “Thank you.”

“I meant to tell you about my magic immediately,” he said. “I’m sorry I didn’t disclose my full abilities.”

“We’ll have to start being more honest with each other,” I said, thinking of Castillo and our bond.

Before Cris could answer, the double-wide doors crashed open and sunlight streamed into my face, along with a deafening chorus of applause. Cris pulled me forward into an unknown I couldn’t see. I raised my hand to wave, as Gibson had instructed me.

On the balcony, I smiled and did my best to look the part of the happiest girl in these lands. I held the hope that Cris could become a king the magicians of Relina would approve of. I may not be able to undo decades of training from the High King, but I wouldn’t let anyone take him down without a fight. I may not love him yet, but that potential existed.

Cris leaned in and kissed my temple, and the crowd went wild. The anger that had surged at the thought of the High King faded, but I couldn’t fully get the image of Castillo bleeding and broken from my mind. I couldn’t erase the fear in Cris’s eyes when he introduced me to his father. I heard the High King exclaiming, “Iskadar!” as if I was unworthy of being in his presence.

I didn’t want to rid myself of those memories. I would use them to dethrone the High King and bring to power the person who belonged at the helm of Nyth. I would use them to cleanse the magic, and release the caged magicians, and make Grandmother proud.

As I stood in the sunshine, smiling and kissing Cris, I imagined what it would take to scour the corruption from the royal line.

I knew exactly where I’d start: Bo and Gibson.

Twenty-Five

After the friendly reception of our engagement, Cris dictated an announcement for his messengers to take to the villages surrounding Umon. He sent a royal decree to the land of Heona.

“The queen won’t be pleased with this union,” I said from the lounge chair on Cris’s deck. “She’ll view it as a threat.”

“I am aware.” Cris sent another servant out the door. “Castillo and I have discussed it at length.”

“Oh?” I couldn’t mask the annoyance in my voice. “And what have you two concluded?”

“The queen of Heona has granted her royal approval for our union.”

“She has?” I asked. “What did she require of you?”

“She knows we have no interest in unseating her.” Two more servants entered. He gave them directions while I refocused on the Burisia River. I couldn’t imagine Queen Bargout sitting idly by while another country doubled its holdings, pressed in closer to her borders. I knew little of the queen and her temperament, but certainly understood her trade embargo. Her approval
had
come at a price.

Cris dismissed his servants and called me over. “I need your help on wedding preparations.”

“Ask Lucia.” I refused to tear my eyes from the river, wishing Olive was here to construct my bouquet. “She knows what I like.”

Cris instructed several more people, and they scampered out of the room. I gazed into the distance and sipped my grapefruit juice. Only then did I realize how quiet it had become. I glanced toward the suite to find Cris leaning against the wall, studying me.

“I will ensure the other girls return home safely,” I said. “Remember, you said—”

“I remember my promises,” Cris said. “What are your plans?”

“I’ll ask Matu to escort them back to their homes.”

Cris nodded as yet another servant entered and inquired after musicians for the dance that would follow the ceremony. I turned away when he looked to me for confirmation. I wished I had an explanation for my disinterest in our wedding that I could share with Cris. “Why did you choose me?” I asked. “And don’t say it is because I’m beautiful.”

“Well, now I don’t know what to say,” he teased, joining me on the deck. He settled into the chair next to me and loosely held my fingers in his.

“You love someone else,” I prompted.

He didn’t speak for the longest time. The sun turned the sky gold and pink and then settled into the color of a bruise before he so much as moved.

“I don’t love someone else,” he said. “I’m certainly not as fond of anyone the way you are.”

My throat closed at his words. I hadn’t professed my feelings for Castillo, because I didn’t fully understand what vibrated inside.

I cleared the emotion from my vocal chords. “I could probably love you,” I admitted. “If—”

“If it were not for Castillo,” Cris interrupted.

“That’s not what I was going to say.” I pulled my fingers from his and folded my arms. “I don’t love Castillo.” I should hold my tongue. But I couldn’t contain my thoughts. “I could probably love you if you were the kind of king your country needed.”

Cris exhaled as he got to his feet. “I’m sorry I disappoint you so completely, Echo. I fear I always will.” He left, his absence only adding to my guilt.

#

I found Matu in the small rose garden that had become a favorite of ours. “There you are.” I sat next to him on the only bench, relishing the heat of the sunshine on my bare arms.

“Hello, Echo,” he said. “Congratulations on your engagement.”

A muscle twitched in my jaw. “Thank you.” I forced myself to relax. I couldn’t understand why I was struggling with the idea of marrying Cris. I’d known about the imminent engagement for weeks. I placed my hand on Matu’s arm. “I have a request.”

“Speak it,” he said, “and I’ll do the best I can.”

A rush of love for Matu overwhelmed me, and tears sprang to my eyes. I swiped at my face and cleared the emotion from my throat. “It’s the other girls. I do not wish to see any harm come to them.” I composed myself and sat up straighter. “Cris has promised me that I can ensure their safe return home, and I need your help to do it.”

“Why would they not return home safely?”

“Athe didn’t.” I frowned at the memory of her blue lips. “And Gibson was charged with her removal. I don’t wish to see any more of these girls die.”

“Athe is dead?” The genuine surprise in Matu’s voice would’ve been hard to fake. He watched me with clear confusion on his face.

“She is.” I took a deep breath. “I don’t know how Gibson planned to return the girls to their homes, but I don’t wish them to end up like Athe.” Surely the deaths of ten girls would be noticed. Perhaps Athe had died of an accident, or perhaps she’d done something more heinous than sneak into the Prince’s bedroom.

Either way, I wasn’t willing to risk the remaining girls.

Matu put his hand over mind. “Of course not, Echo. What do you need?”

“I’m hoping you can get their addresses from the High Secretary’s office while I gather them together and . . .” I waved my hand. “Ask them to pack.”

“They will have nothing to pack,” Matu said. “They all arrived with nothing, same as you.”

“Surely they won’t be required to leave here with nothing. Perhaps they would like to wear a traveling cloak, or some sturdy boots, or . . .” I thought of the sewing room, with its hundreds of custom-made dresses. “Something.”

Matu suppressed a smile as he stood. “I’ll get their addresses and meet you in the ballroom in half an hour.”

Thirty minutes later, I arrived last in the ballroom. The other ten girls sat around one table, silent, while Matu waited at another with a sheaf of parchment. All eyes swiveled to me.

“Hello.” I found my mind held nothing else to say. I shuffled a few steps closer. I looked at Kenya, and Gazelle, and Mari, and seven other girls whose names I couldn’t remember. I imagined myself at that table, and I’d want to be told the truth.

“I asked to be charged with your dismissal.” I inhaled deeply. “Because if it were left to Gibson, you’d all be dead by nightfall.”

Mari stood, her fists shaking and tears spilling down her cheeks. “That’s not true. Athe was sent home. She—”

“She’s dead.” The other girls volleyed their gaze from me to Mari. “I performed a location spell and saw her—she’s dead.”

Mari looked like she might argue again. “Mari, you’re more than welcome to seek out Gibson and request he take you home.” My words sounded final, and I couldn’t believe I’d spoken them. My only friend in the compound, and I was willing to let Gibson have her?

Please sit,
I thought, staring at her with desperation building in my chest.

One of the girls pulled on Mari’s arm, and she sat. I looked at Matu. I couldn’t tell if his steady expression held more awe or more horror. “I’ve asked Matu to retrieve your addresses, and he will personally ensure you arrive at your home safely.”

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