Zander chuckles, shaking his head as he continues his search. “For someone who did not want to be queen, you are readily embracing the role.”
“Does the vault in Cirilea have this much wealth in it too?”
“Why? You want to rob me, thief?”
“This one’s got jokes today.” I toss the coin at his back. It bounces off him and lands with a clunk on the stone floor. “As if I need more.” There are countless chests full of coin within the long and narrow room beneath the castle, along with gilded weapons and household wares—goblets and platters and candlesticks—and solid gold busts of people Zander doesn’t recognize sitting on stands around the outskirts. An enormous, gilded mirror leans against the wall across from me.
And then there are the jewels. Crates of rubies and emeralds and sapphires—some cast in gaudy rings and elaborate necklaces, others raw. I inspect one—a ruby that has to be at least twenty-five carats. My old pawnshop dealer, Skully, would drool over this. “It seems ironic, doesn’t it? The nymphs could have made my crown out of anything and yet they made it out of what looks like silver bones.” Sharp enough to draw blood.
“Perhaps the nymphs don’t value gold and jewels.”
“Why have this vault full of it, then?”
“Currency, for those who do value it.”
“Yeah, I guess that makes sense.” I sidle up beside him. “What are you looking for, anyway?”
“I hoped there might be a token from the fates here. Something that could be of use to us in Soldor. But there is nothing.” He tosses a gold dagger back into the crate, his shoulders sinking with disappointment. “I should prepare. We need to leave soon if we are to meet Radomir’s men.”
The knot in my stomach that’s been present since this morning coils tighter. “I don’t like this.”
“What don’t you like?”
“You, going into that mountain for thirty-six hours with soldiers who were our enemies only days ago … us being apart. You fighting at the rift. Take your pick.”
“You are the one who forged this alliance. You keep telling me I do not trust enough.”
“I don’t trust anyone with you. You’re my heart.”
He reaches up to stroke a strand of hair off my forehead. “There comes a time when you either trust those who stand beside you or you do not. There is no in-between anymore, no wavering at a line. We are heading into war, and we all must have faith in each other now.”
I sigh. “You’re right.”
“But the Legion will be with me, and you can be sure Abarrane will be watching my back.” Zander’s hands settle onto my shoulders with a gentle touch. “And you cannot go through Soldor with me. We will be as close to the rift as we can get without being inside it. You would draw in every beast around and put us at far greater risk.”
“I know.” I hate it, but I know. “I wish you didn’t have to leave, but I understand why you have to.”
“And I wish you didn’t have to stay, but I understand why you have to.” His thumbs stroke my shoulders. “Gesine is right. You need to learn whatever you can from Lucretia.”
“What if she’s gone?” Zander and I went down to the crypt together earlier, but the sylx didn’t show herself, even after Zander’s taunts and my royal demand as her queen.
It felt so empty in there.
“She’s not gone. She’s playing games, for whatever reason. When she does return, don’t let her leave until she’s answered every question you have about the nymphs. And don’t go alone. Bring Jarek with you.”
“Good idea. She likes him. Maybe he can draw her out.” I sink into his chest, inhaling his scent. “And then Gesine can teach me how to fly so I can come to you.”
He chuckles, folding his arms around me, cocooning me in his warmth. “I do not know if casters can actually fly, but if anyone can figure it out, it will be you.”
I revel in the silence and privacy, even as panic surges inside.
Somewhere above us, two hundred and fifty-four Ybarisans, now dressed in armor with two intersecting crescent moons on their chests, prepare to hold the rift beside us.
You hope, that little voice inside my head reminds me.
They strap extra weapons and shields and helms to their horses, enough for three hundred saplings to wear as they prepare to go to battle with us.
You hope.
They will all ride alongside a thousand Islorians, who will accept this alliance and Zander as the true king of Islor.