Reubinon Palace, Pellarmus.
Sail for Erydia in one day.

I started going on runs every morning, not to strengthen my body necessarily—although I wanted to do that too—but to get my ability back under control. Since Jaxon was Erydian and was already acquainted with me, he got the pleasure of trying to keep up with me as I ran the mist-kissed, gray streets. I let hm set the pace most mornings, not caring how fast we went just so long as I was able to focus on conjuring and manipulating flame.

I dipped my ability into every fire we passed—every forge, every bakers oven, each candle lit window. By the second day, I'd become so accustomed to doing it, that I hardly had to think. Each run was just the pounding of my feet against pavement and the steady inhale-exhale of my lungs.

On each run, Jaxon would slow us to a stop at our usual bench. I had to admit, the overlook was much prettier at dawn—when the sun was just rising and the waves below had eased far out, revealing patches of sand and rock that were usually hidden from sight. We never talked about that first night and how dark things had been. How close to the edge of that cliff I'd come.

Instead, when we did talk, it was strategy and questions about my abilities and the Culling. He'd come to Pellarmus when Britta did and had been a part of the guard who had left the palace with her. So, he'd seen some of the competition and was pretty familiar with how it worked. Even though that was a part of my life I didn't like to dwell on, I didn't mind discussing it with him. In Pellarmus, so far from Erydia and the arena, I felt freer. Talking about my experiences didn't hold the same threat here that they did when I was back home.

The day before our voyage we awoke to news that one of the major cities in Pellarmus had been attacked. Caine had sent a fleet of ships to ransack Ortyga Palace, a secondary home Darragh kept and used during the winter months. The Erydian forces had expected the royals to be there. According to the report, fifty six people were killed in a bombing that took place in one of the markets. They'd lost ships and homes and the palace there had been burned to the ground.

Darragh had been furious. The city had been cast into mourning. Haniver had been told to ready their troops.

I think Darragh might have left that day if he'd thought he could manage it—but the ships weren't ready and the last of the weapons still needed to be loaded. I'd spent the morning with Anna, watching her paint as Britta and Darragh stood on the balcony of the palace—where they'd stood only days earlier—and addressed their frightened country. I think they'd hoped to keep the war in Erydia. But to have blood spilt on their own soil, it was different.

They were now a broken people. And as I'd learned myself, grief came in waves of sorrow and anger. But more than anything, grief pushed people to action. By the time we gathered for dinner that night, military enlistment had risen enough that Darragh had brought in more ships. The Pellarmi were a peaceful people, but they were also a warrior nation and they trained for times like this. The fact that more people hadn't been killed in Caine's attack was due to their preparedness.

Gazda and the surrounding Erydian cities would not have that preparation.

The attack here had been bad, but it hadn't been a slaughter.

"It very well could have been," Darragh said over dinner. "We were lucky. Most of forces in that area hadn't yet migrated here to join our fleets. Our soldiers were gathering to leave and were able to already be in place to defend the city. The palace was left undefended, but it was empty and, as far as I'm concerned, it can be replaced. The lives lost, however, cannot be."

Britta only nodded.

She'd been quiet about it, even during the broadcast, she'd had little to say. Those who were angry about the attack came in two groups—one half rallying to make a move against their Erydian enemy and the other believing Britta had brought this upon their people. I wasn't sure if it was the guilt or our impending departure that kept her silent.

She wouldn't be going with us. Darragh would go and she would stay here to manage things and continue to recover from her miscarriage. I think some in Pellarmus resented her for that too. Since it was her war but she couldn't fight in it. She had no training, no experience with a weapon. Darragh would be leaving behind a retinue of guards to secure Reubinon Palace and the city incase Caine were to strike again while we were away.

"What will happen tomorrow?" Cohen asked. "Have you decided when we'll leave."

Darragh sipped at his drink and nodded. "Yes," he said. The glass clicked against wood as he set it down. "Half of our troops will leave at midnight tonight. The other will go at dawn. We'll leave with the second group and go to Haniver. We'll send two boats ahead to scout and work with rebels there to solidify a plan, and when we're ready, we'll move the rest of our forces into Erydia."

Britta explained, "We've already established radio contact with Haniver and they are awaiting our signal. After our arrival, the remaining ships will sail from there and remain far enough out from the coast to not be seen by Erydian scouts. When my people are ready, our combined forces will attack the city from the sea first before we send people on land."

"Won't that cause a lot of damage to innocents?" Nadia asked.

Darragh's head tilted back and forth, considering. "Yes, but it will cause a distraction and hopefully pull the brunt of the king's forces from the palace, leaving that door open for us."

"And who will go to Erydia on those first ships to meet with the spies there?" I asked.

Darragh shrugged and looked to Britta.

"Well," she said, "I'd planned to send Dellacov with a group of you and some other soldiers. That team will be the ones moving into the palace while the rest work in the cities. I think it would be good for the majority of the people going into Oredison Palace to be individuals who know the layout well. Dellacov, of course, is familiar with it. So are the goddess-touched girls and many of my runners—Harper, Jaxon, Birk, and a few others."

"Jaxon?" I asked.

She nodded. "Yes. The guard that you ran with the other night. He was palace guard and—"

"I know," I said. "He told me about that."

She smiled. "Dellacov helped train him. They've both been incredibly helpful recently in mapping out the best ways into the palace and getting that information to the rebels in Erydia." She looked to Dellacov as she said, "I'm sure my people over there will be happy to finally be able to put a face to the name."

He smiled tightly. "I'm sure."

I hadn't really spoken to him since that first day. When we'd walked the city the other morning, he'd mostly talked with Cohen. So, I didn't know what it had been like for him to arrive here and find Britta alive and plotting to take over his country. He must have been relieved and yet—there was a tension there too.

Dellacov had always been a stickler for rules and protocol. It had been what had kept him from going after Uri during all those years he'd silently cared for her. He'd have seen what Britta had done as a betrayal, especially if he understood that she'd planned to take Cohen's throne from him before he'd even been crowned.

But there was no animosity in Dellacov's tone as he said, "I'll just be glad to finally get back on Erydian soil."

"I'll drink to that," Cohen said, lifting his glass.

"Have we not been good hosts?" Darragh asked, brows raised.

"You've been wonderful hosts," Dellacov said, "but I'm ready to get this all over with. It's been—It's been a long time since things were calm. The sooner we fight this battle the sooner we can begin to heal from it."

Anna nodded in agreement, her eyes moving towards me. I knew she was thinking about Kai and me. I offered her a small smile, wishing that I could I imagine a future where things healed. Where things with Kai and me were calm. I wasn't sure we'd ever had such a thing.

Nadia followed Anna's gaze, her own darkening slightly, as if she senses the pattern of my thoughts. I found, as I focused my attention on my untouched plate, that I wished I could tell her about what Anna had said. I wished I could tell my friend how badly I missed Kai, and how badly I wanted to make the right choice, and how badly I wanted things to be okay in the end.

I wanted desperately to confide in Nadia. I needed someone to help me carry the burden of my anxiety, but there was really no one who would stand with me--not where Kai was concerned.

I knew better.

The rest of dinner was spent discussing different things—most of it light, intentionally bland. I barely ate anything, too nervous to stomach it. That seemed to be common amongst us, even Tavin—who had never shrunk away from food—seemed to have lost his appetite. As we said our goodnights, Darragh told us that he'd have guards come to wake us and escort to the boat an hour before we were meant to leave port.

Most of my friends went back to their rooms to pack or rest, but I was full of heat and roiling flame. We'd eaten early to allow for extra sleep, so the sun was still high above the city when I went in search of Jaxon. I found him in the usual place, his back reclined against one of the thick brick pillars of the watch tower. Behind him, people bustled about, bags and packages in their hands, children pulled at their mothers' skirts and couples strolled arm in arm.

A regular day.

This was just a regular day to so many.

He sighed at the sight of me. "Damn, Monroe. I know that look."

I came to stop in front of him. "Will you hate me if I ask for a run?"

He glanced over to me, that bright smile softening his features as he said, "We've already run today. You trying to kill me?"

"I can go alone...?"

He laughed at that, the sound thick and rich—unbridled and unincumbered, even with war looming above us. "No. You can't. My ass'll be on the line if I let you go alone."

"I won't' tell anyone."

He thumbed towards the guards standing nearby. "One of them will report it, believe me."

"Fine," I crossed my arms over my chest. "A jog."

"A walk," he countered. "And only part way. I don't want to make the hike to the cliff. I hope to be in bed by sundown. We've got an early morning tomorrow and I need my beauty rest."

I considered. "Fine. A walk."

He told his commanding officer where he was going, shed the jacket of his uniform in the guard barracks, and together we took off into Reubinon. We didn't take the usual pathway up towards the cliffside homes, instead we wandered down into the fish markets and docks.

Jaxon was unusually quiet as we walked, his usual bravado gone. For a long time, we strolled in silence, the only sound those of the quieting city around us. People called to one another, merchants laughed and yelled about their wares and prices. The smell of restaurants and food carts mingled with the salt air.

Jaxon stopped us near one of the carts and ordered a platter of fried fish and broiled potatoes. I didn't realize he intended to share it until he'd plopped himself down on one of the nearby picnic tables and offered me a fork.

I sat across from him, half annoyed that we'd stopped and half intrigued by the food. I'd grown up far enough from the ocean that most of the fish served in dishes here were very different from the ones my brothers had fished for in the creek near our home.

The fried fish Jaxon had bought for us smelled of strong seasoning—salt and garlic and pepper and something else I couldn't name. Something spicy and full of heat. It was delicious, nearly as good as the potatoes. I leaned back and pressed a hand to my mouth, trying to stifle a moan of appreciation as I chewed.

Jaxon grinned and popped a chunk of fish into his mouth. He spoke through his food, "I'll miss this when I'm back home. Rita has the best seafood I've ever tasted. I don't think anyone in Erydia can compare. We don't do spicy food back home."

I nodded. "It's incredible."

We watched the boats as we ate. Some were full of fishermen, carting their day's catch and delivering them to the market. Other ships were full of soldiers. They leaned over the railings and called to girls walking nearby. Jaxon shook his head in dismay as one of the girls rolled her eyes at them as she sauntered past.

"Are you nervous about going back to Erydia?" I asked, my attention still on the soldiers.

He took a bite of potato and chewed, thinking as he did. "No," he said finally. "I'm ready to go back. It's been weeks since I was home."

"Will you get to see your family when we're there?"

"Not before the strike. But I'll get to see Harper. And that's exciting enough."

"Harper?"

"You know, the reporter. Harper Vance? She's pretty well known in Gazda."

I smiled. "Really? That's your Harper?"

He smiled. "You know her?"

"I met her once, yeah."

"She's my girl. We've been together for as long as I can remember. She keeps me in line most days." The smile on his face was so wide, it looked nearly painful. "Leaving her to come here was hard to do. It's the longest we've ever been apart—these few weeks. I'll be glad when all of this is over and done with. I don't want to ever be away for this long. Next time I travel, she's coming with me."

"She was at the palace interviewing Kai—the king," I amended. "I met her then. She wanted to publish my story."

"That sounds like Harper. You should've let her."

"Maybe I'll let her do it when we get to Erydia. Seems like we'll have a few days there before we actually fight. Maybe there'll be time for that."

His brow furrowed. "Hasn't—Didn't the king tell you?"

"Tell me what?"

Jaxon shook his head. "It's nothing. Don't worry about it."

I set down my fork, unable to hide the anxiety lacing my voice as I said, "You're lying. What is it? What didn't Darragh tell me?"

He pursed his lips. "It isn't—It's...This is his battle to wage, not mine. I'm staying out of it."

"What is his battle?" I leaned forward, keeping my voice low as I said, "Come on, Jax, we're friends, remember?"

"Sure but—but Darragh is my king. Or he soon will be."

"But he isn't yet, is he?" I tapped a finger against the wood of the table between us. "What is it I don't know?"

He chewed his bottom lip and set down his fork, leaving the food half eaten. "What boat are you getting in the morning?"

I shrugged. "What does it matter?"

Jaxon shook his head, as if I was missing something—a hint he was giving me. "No, Benson. What boat? Did he tell you the name of it? Did he give you an exact time to board?"

"No, but he didn't give any of us that information. He said guards would come to get us when it was time."

"You sure about that?"

Ice filled my veins. "What are you getting at, Jaxon?"

He held up his hands in surrender. "All I'm saying is that I know I'm getting on The Felice at four-fifteen in the morning. We set sail at five. I'm bunking with nine other soldiers in cabin seven."

"But you're a soldier," I said. "I'm sure that's why you know and—"

"No."

"But—"

"No." He said again. "Ask your friends, Monroe. Ask your prince. I bet they know what boat they're getting on and when they're getting on it. In fact, I know Cohen is on the same boat I am. He's in the cabin next to mine with Captain Dellacov and Tavin and—" He rubbed at the tight braids on his head and said, "Just trust me, if Darragh hasn't mentioned that information in front of you, it's because he doesn't intend for you to know it."

I swallowed and pulled my jacket tighter around my shoulders. "Are you saying he isn't putting me on the same ship as everyone else?"

Jaxon lowered his voice and said, "I'm saying, he isn't putting you on any ship."

"What?"

"You aren't stupid. I know you aren't. Think critically about this."

"Why—Why wouldn't I go?"

"Why would he want you to go? You're..." He sighed and shook his head. "It doesn't matter. Forget I said anything. Maybe I'm wrong. Maybe I don't know what the hell I'm talking about. Wouldn't be the first time."

"Is it because of Kai?"

He shrugged. "I'm just telling you what I've heard. I mean, you have to admit that it's weird you don't know what boat to board. That seems like information you ought to have."

"But I have to go."

He leaned back, holding his hands up, palms out. "I understand that. I just—You should take this up with the king. Or Britta, maybe. I'm just the messenger. And a bad one, at that."

"I have to get back to Erydia."

"Is that for the best? I mean, you've never mentioned to me and even I know you had a relationship with the Erydian king. Gossip travels here, even when there's a language barrier. Servants in Reubinon Palace talk. The king probably doesn't want to risk you interfering."

I met his eyes, willing him to understand. "I have to get on that boat, Jaxon."

He chewed his bottom lip. "Talk to the king—"

"You and I both know how that will go. If you're right and he's—Jax, if he's planning to leave me here, if I approach him with this he's likely to lock me up."

"He wouldn't—"

"If he thinks I'm a threat to his reign in Erydia, he would. And I will not be a prisoner to another king. Not to anyone."

Jaxon lifted his chin, his expression defiant and demanding all at once. "And are you a threat to his reign?"

"Help me," I said. "Help me get on The Felice."

"Answer the question, Monroe," he said. "Are you a threat? Is the king wise in wanting to keep you here and far, far away from the conflict?"

"It's my fight too."

"Oh, I know that," he said. "I'm not questioning that at all. But I do wonder what you plan to do once you're there. You've got an ability that would cause trouble if you decided you were fighting against us." He glanced to the ships nearby. "How am I to know that you aren't the enemy?"

"Why would I be? Why would I fight against my friends?"

"I can think of a few reasons why you'd fight against the king of Pellarmus. For one, he didn't send aid to your brothers, did he?" When I opened my mouth to respond, he lifted a hand. "I heard about it. Rumors travel, remember? And I know that logic doesn't play any part in what you may feel towards him. Hell, if I were in your shoes I'd be mad too—"

"I'm not planning any sort of revenge."

He shrugged. "Maybe not, but you're asking me to—"

"I'm asking you to help me fight back. I didn't—My brothers didn't die so that I could sit here and do nothing. I can't. I have to kill Caine."

"There will be others who can—"

"No. No, there damn well won't be others. This—Jax," I leaned forward, careful to keep my voice down as I said, "He ordered his men to kill my family. He executed my brothers. He executed my brother's fiancé. She—Ellora was pregnant. Pregnant and he killed her. And—And I had friends in that camp. People I cared about. People who helped me after the Culling. And they're all dead because of him. It's personal. What he's done, it is personal. It was personal the day he put a gun to my head. It was personal when he held my hand over that damn fire in the dining room and—and it was personal when he put his hand up my skirt at dinner. If anyone—" I swallowed and pressed a hand to my chest. "If anyone gets to kill that bastard, it's me."

"I'm sorry about what happened to—"

"I'm not asking for your condolences, Jaxon. I'm asking you to help me. Don't—I can't be a prisoner again. It'll kill me. I can't do it."

He held my stare for a long moment. "They'll have me strung up if I'm caught. If they realize I've helped you, especially if it's true the king doesn't want you to go, it'll be my head they'll take."

"I won't let you take the fall."

He shook his head, exasperated. "Damn, Benson."

"So, you'll do it? You'll help me."

He picked up his fork and poked at the cold fish. "I—I'll do it."

"Thank yo—"

"But you owe Harper that interview."

I offered him a small smile. "She's got it."

***

We're back to our regular Wednesday schedule.

TCC publishing update: I just finished with my first structural edit and boy, oh boy does the draft look different. I am loving it. It's so cool and the changes are totally awesome. I can't wait for you guys to get to read it next fall (2022). Make sure you are following me on instagram. I update almost daily in my stories about how that process is going. I'm also writing something brand new at the moment. Maybe it'll end up on here, we shall see. Come over to instagram and say hello!

If you enjoyed this chapter, leave this 🥺 emoji in the comments and tell me one scene you love from TCC series.

*One of my favorite scenes to write was the scene when Uri throws a shoe at Dellacov. I was still figuring out who Uri was/would be when I wrote that scene and that whole interaction totally solidified her place in the book and in my heart. 💃🏽👠🤕👑