Endless Magic
“I can see why,” I agreed honestly. “This village is magical.”
“Yes, the gypsy village is magical,” he answered sarcastically. “Not the castle you are currently living in that is actually magic.” He lifted his eyes to meet mine and I paused for a moment, unsure what to make of his expression. I thought he would be amused, entertained by the continuance of his games, but he wasn't. His smile was there, but his eyes were disappointed, frustrated even.
“Definitely not the castle!” I argued. “I am pretty sure that castle is the seventh circle of hell.”
“You might be right,” he sighed. “How are we going to get you out of here?” He sounded exasperated; he threw his head back to admire the stars and groaned with an amused laughter. “Do you think Jericho is lying on his death bed like I did after you left? Or just pining away, hoping one day you'll walk back into his life and forget all about this crazy war?”
I stayed silent for a minute, not knowing what to make of Kiran's questions or even how to respond to them. I decided to avoid direct answers all together because I got the distinct impression that his questions were actually insults. “Why did you almost die after we broke up?”
He laughed a derisive, angry laugh and then stood to his feet. He offered me his hands with a look of pure contempt altering his good-natured face. Out of growing anxiety, I let him have my hands. He pulled me to my feet a little roughly and when I stumbled forward, he caught me in his arms, holding me firmly close to him.
“Your magic, Eden, is rather addicting,” he whispered with a raspy voice. “You promise immortality and then you rip it from us leaving mankind helpless victims in your aftermath. And then you expect us to recover as if we can breathe without you.”
“I hope you're not including Jericho in this fantasy,” I spat, wrenching my arms out of his tight grasp.
“Absolutely. Your adoring eyes have already moved beyond him. You're not capable of true love, Eden. Only convenient relationships that further your purpose.” His entire body accused me, from his glaring eyes to his clenched fists. “If Jericho isn't bedridden, then maybe he is the lucky one. Maybe he lost you before it was too late.”
“Don't talk to me like that!” I demanded in a low growl. I crossed my arms and swallowed my fear. I felt the defiance flaring in my blood as strong as any magic ever had, but Kiran's cool belief in his own words shook me, terrified me. And so I retaliated, “I loved you once. I loved you with everything that I was. Everything that I was capable of, in the truest sense of love. And you betrayed me. Or have you forgotten?”
“How could I forget when you accuse me with every one of your looks, every word that comes out of your mouth? I am fully aware of exactly how I betrayed you and you will never let me forget it, no matter how I beg for your forgiveness.” Kiran's voice grew quieter, his words ringing painfully true to the core of my being.
“As long as we agree,” I conceded, narrowing my eyes at him.
Sebastian joined us, approaching from the dark void beyond the fire. His eyes were squinted with anxiety and he glanced nervously between us as if we were both about to explode.
“It's about time to go, isn't it?” Sebastian approached Kiran carefully.
“I hope he doesn't try to give them any marital advice,” Sebastian joked, but I couldn't find the humor so I stood silently next to him. “He doesn't mean it,” he defended his cousin. He placed a comforting hand on my arm and I leaned in to him and rested my forehead on his shoulder, thankful for his friendship.
“He's right though,” I admitted. Sebastian must have heard us, and I couldn't deny the facts. I did blame Kiran. And he would never have my forgiveness.
“I mean how angry he gets, he doesn't mean that,” Sebastian insisted, putting an arm around my shoulders and pulling me into a half-hug. “He's a prince, and a spoiled one at that, and he's used to having everything handed to him. You know for a minute I thought you two were falling in love again.”
“Ha!” I let out a scathing bark of laughter; but that insistent look on Kiran's face, the decision I watched him make blazed in my memory. Before I had held my breath in fear, before my eyes became wild and afraid. “Oh my goodness, is everyone in your family delusional?” I asked sarcastically, shaking those thoughts from my mind.
“Yes, I'm afraid so,” he conceded laughingly.
I looked up at Sebastian from his shoulder, his golden brown hair lay perfectly styled on his handsome head and his golden brown eyes sparkled at me with the constant amusement he seemed to live with. Objectively he was almost as good-looking as Kiran and had the same pompous air of royalty. Only, I liked Sebastian.
“Did Amory really bring Kiran here?” I ventured. I didn't want to think good of Kiran, and I certainly didn't want to link him with memories of my grandfather, but I couldn't get Ileana's words out of my head. They rang with resounding curiosity that Amory could have been closer with Kiran than he was with me. The thought made my stomach churn from violent recollection that Kiran was responsible for Amory's death. At the same time, I couldn't completely dispel the notion that if Kiran held some childish hero-worship for Amory than he would be as heartbroken as I was.
“Amory brought us all here,” Sebastian confessed, sighing despondently remembering the grief. “He would come to the Citadel just to spend time with Kiran, just to take him away from the castle. Now that I'm older, I realize he was taking Kiran away from his father too. Amory loved Kiran, and Talbott and even me. I suppose Amory felt like he failed at making Lucan a better man, so he was determined to try again with Kiran.”
“Too bad he failed there too,” I sighed, wishing Amory had spent more time with me growing up than the man eventually responsible for his death.
“Did he fail, though?” Sebastian asked carefully. “He obviously approved of your relationship, so he must have believed he did something right.”
“Something right? He got himself killed.” I spat bitterly.
“Don't forget, Eden, it was Lucan that took Amory's life, not Kiran.” Sebastian stepped away from me as if that opinion of mine were disgusting.
Kiran appeared then, with Talbott by his side. Talbott still had half a smile on his face; he clearly enjoyed the evening. But Kiran's eyes were dark with anger and his jaw twitched with impatience.
The two of them turned away from me and I got the distinct impression that neither one of them could stand me right now. I likewise turned away from them and followed Talbott back to the motorcycles wanting very much to jump on one of the abandoned bikes and get the hell out of here. My magic ached with the impulse to flee, but I repressed the desire.
I was utterly determined to win this war and save as many Immortals as I could. If I left tonight, Lucan would murder everyone he could tomorrow morning. I had no choice but to stay. No other option. And if being held against my will by threat of extreme genocide wasn't enough, my engagement party was tomorrow night.
My engagement party.
That I had to attend with my fiancé.
And pretend to love.
Chapter Twelve
More gowns. More silk. More stilettos. More makeup. More. More. More.
The thought of changing into my engagement gown and putting on a happy, adoring, in-love face in front of hundreds of Immortals I didn't even know made my skin crawl. I was a puppet. A plastic mannequin that was put on display for Lucan's own sinister plot to manipulate the kingdom. I faced the elegant black evening dress with a halter top, and a pencil thin racer back that met the waistline at the lowest possible point on my back before it became indecent. The soft silk shimmered in the light and the full skirt flowed effortlessly on the hanger.
How dare he dress me up like a doll to show off to company and flatter his son's arm!
Still what choice did I have?
Kiran would be here in a half an hour to escort me to our party, our engagement party where everyone important in the kingdom would toast to our happiness and congratulate our endless love. I shivered at the thought, at the fake smile I needed to plaster on my face and at the puppy-dog eyes I needed to follow Kiran with until we both threw up from the audacity of it.
I realized in that moment how important I was to Lucan. He put up with my tempestuous defiance and the embarrassment of scorning Seraphina not once, but twice. My grandfather had been an important member of this community, a pillar that existed in this realm before anything else. And I was Amory Saint’s granddaughter.
The next Oracle.
I took a step forward, toward the gown and pulled it from the hanger. Avalon remained a rumor. His presence as Lucan's prisoner kept somewhat of a secret and for those that heard the whispers about Lucan's magicless prisoner they were afraid to believe the truth of where his magic had gone.
But they knew who I was.
One look at me and doubt would vanish. I was a replica of my mother: my dark, tangled hair, my onyx eyes, too big for my face, every part of me, down to my defiance of everything royal.
I was Delia's daughter. Amory's granddaughter. And I stood on Kiran's arm as the future queen of our kingdom.
Lucan planned on showing me off as his next conquest, the next jewel in his bloodstained crown. But his pride was his downfall.
His pride would be his downfall.
I tipped my chin up and pulled the dress down with determination. Twenty minutes later, I emerged from the bathroom looking every bit as glamorous as Lucan could have hoped for. My hair braided in a loose fish-tail braid with stray curls framing my face, casually hiding my tattoo. I kept my makeup simple and fresh, afraid the black of the dress and the black of my eyes would overpower my face. I stepped into tall black stilettos and admired myself in the mirror.
The knock at the door signaled Kiran had arrived to pick me up; I opened the door for him and stepped back so that he could admire my work tonight. He stood there for a moment, frozen in the doorway, but he didn't say anything. He just looked.
“Are you ready?” I asked awkwardly, feeling as though he should be the one asking me.
“Uh, almost,” he grunted, sweeping past me in a crisp gray suit with a royal blue shirt, that brought out the ever-changing color of his eyes, open at the collar. “I have something for you. Actually, a couple of things for you.”
I gave him a look of curiosity but then noticed two black velvet boxes in his hand. Before revealing what was in either one, he took a tiny key from his pocket and nodded to my handcuffs.
“Oh, thank God,” I sighed, happy I wouldn't have to try to make clunky silver half-handcuffs look fashionable tonight.