Tale of the Heart Queen (Artefacts of Ouranos #4)

Chapter 3

C HAPTER 3

A LLUVION —T HE C RYSTAL P ALACE

I limp my way up the path as the Alluvion guards eye me with understandable suspicion. They wear light clothing—swaths of blue fabric slung across their broad chests, leaving slivers of exposed sun-kissed skin, and knee-length skirts draped around their hips. Silver shoulder plates, vambraces, and shin guards complete their armor.

They each hold a spear in one hand and wear a sword strapped to their back. My lightning magic buzzes under my skin, and I’d have no problem dispatching these two obstacles, but I don’t want to make that sort of entrance. Cyan will never trust me with the ark’s location if I go around maiming his guards without provocation .

The palace glints in the sun, reflecting so brightly its brilliance sears my retinas. The guards wear shields over their eyes made from pairs of oval-shaped lenses, obviously meant to protect from the glare.

When I’m a few feet away, I stop. We eye each other as they look at me and then beyond as if trying to determine where I’ve come from. Fair question because there’s nothing behind me but miles of empty sand and ocean. It makes me wonder why guards protect this entrance, but I guess that’s neither here nor there. Maybe Cyan is the paranoid type.

“Hi,” I say, waving like an idiot as they stare at me wordlessly. I drop my hand, suddenly nervous, as heat pricks up the back of my neck that has nothing to do with the temperature.

“I am here to see your king.”

Oh, very smooth, Lor. That’ll convince them. I attempt to infuse some authority and poise into my posture, but I’ve clearly failed as the guard on the left stares at me like I’ve grown another head.

“Now,” I add, hoping it makes me sound sufficiently bossy. That’s what a queen would do, right?

The guard narrows his striking blue eyes.

“Who are you?” he asks.

“I’m . . .” What do I say? I can’t just blurt out that I’m the Heart Queen. First, who’ll believe me? Second, too many people in Ouranos view my family in a less than favorable light. I’m just as likely to be gutted with a stake and left for the vultures as offered the welcome mat.

“I’m Serce’s granddaughter,” I say, hoping that’s vague but also specific enough. I wait for some sign these words mean something to this pair.

“Who is that?” the guard on the right asks. “And why should we care?”

I blow out a breath and scratch the back of my scalp.

“Please. Will you just go and tell your king that? He’ll know what it means.”

The guard scoffs. “Run along, sweetheart, unless you want to spend a night in His Majesty’s dungeon.”

“Just for asking a question?”

“For disturbing the peace.”

I make a show of looking at the empty space around us, at the deserted beach where not a single other soul is present, and then raise an eyebrow with a pointed look.

He clears his throat. “Nevertheless. No one demands an audience with the king.”

“I’m not demanding. I’m asking. Very politely.”

The guard sighs and shakes his head before he exchanges a look with his companion.

“Very well,” the first guard says. “Follow me.”

“Really?” I say, hardly daring to believe my luck. This still doesn’t guarantee Cyan will see me, but at least it’s progress. “I mean . . . yes, okay. Good. Take me to your king.” I throw my shoulders back again, trying to pretend I belong here.

He starts to roll his eyes but catches himself like the well-trained soldier he is. He opens the dark blue door made of some kind of shimmering material and gestures me ahead.

“Walk directly in front of me and don’t touch anything,” he says. I nod, lifting my hand in promise before I’m ushered into the palace’s cool interior. I blink as my eyes adjust to the shift. Though high windows let in plenty of light, it’s an abrupt change from the blazing reflections outside.

The watery blue tiles are cool on my feet, and I wince at the sensation of a reverse burn against my sweltering soles. I lift the hair on the back of my neck, attempting to expose it to a lick of cool air, savoring a break from the beating sun.

“Walk,” the guard says before we march down a hallway towards a large chamber through an arched doorway. As we near the end, he calls out, “Halt.”

He brushes past me. “Stay there.”

Two more guards flank the entrance. One male and one female, both stiff with attention. My escort exchanges a few words with the High Fae female in a low voice that I strain to hear. She casts a look at me and then back before jerking her chin.

The first guard then passes me by and walks in the direction we came, shaking his head as though I’ve ruined his entire day.

“It was nice meeting you too,” I call to his retreating back.

Not surprisingly, he doesn’t respond or acknowledge my existence.

“Come with me,” the female guard says as I turn to face her.

She has deep olive skin, her nose and cheeks covered in a dusting of brown freckles, likely garnered from hours in the sun. Her brown hair is tied in a high braided ponytail that accentuates the hard lines of her face, and her dark green eyes flash with anger. I can’t tell if it’s because of me or because she’s just having one of those days.

I’m led through the palace and its winding halls, hearing the crash of the ocean in the distance. Otherwise, it’s quiet here, no one passing us as we walk. The woman stares straight ahead as she marches at a brisk pace.

We pass high windows made of stained glass in various shades of blue and green and walls embedded with the fossils of seashells and sea life, all dusted with sparkling silver. As we head down another long hall, I see more guards waiting at the end.

We approach them, and the woman says, “Take her.”

Before I have a chance to react, two enormous male High Fae wearing Alluvion armor seize me roughly by each arm.

“What are you doing?” I ask as a door swings open and they drag me through. “I demand to see your king!”

The female guard walks ahead of us and calls over her shoulder. “You were told you’d be sent to the dungeons if you insisted on bothering the guards.”

“What?” I say, realization dawning on me. That bastard tricked me into following him inside, and I did so like a gullible little duckling.

My magic sparks under my skin, begging to be released. All it would take is a flick, and all three would be dead. But who else would I kill?

My heart stutters in my chest when I think of Nadir’s lifeless face on the ground. Of the way it felt when his heart stopped and the screams ripped from my throat. I don’t think I can face that again—even if these Fae are all strangers intent on locking me up.

My hands ball into fists as the guards force me to walk-stumble down a set of winding stairs.

They’re just doing their job. I’ve been granted immense power at the tips of my fingers, and I’ve discovered the hard way that I need to learn how to use it responsibly. I can’t just go around blasting away everyone who pisses me off.

A previous Lor might have done that, but I’m trying to be a better person.

Besides, I’m inside the palace at least. I’ll find a way to convince them to grant me an audience with Cyan, though I’m painfully aware that spending any time in the dungeon means fewer days I have to save Nadir.

Inhaling a deep breath, I will my nerves to settle. I have to keep a clear head. I won’t do him any favors if I panic and mess this up. I need to earn Cyan’s trust. My insides war with the need to think logically while my heart flakes away bit by bit. I’ve always been a master of compartmentalizing my emotions, but even I have my limits.

Finally, we reach the bottom of the staircase, and the female guard leads us past a row of cells, some already occupied and some sitting empty, until she comes to a stop and points.

I’m shoved inside by the guards with such force that I trip and drop my boots, still clutched in one of my hands. Someone kicks them in after me, and the door clangs shut before the lock clicks into place.

“Let me out of here!” I shout, grabbing the bars and shaking them. “I didn’t do anything wrong! ”

The female guard stands at the bars, and it’s then I notice the ornateness of her armor—it’s similar to the men’s behind her, but detailed scrollwork marks her shoulders and vambraces, suggesting she’s someone of higher rank. Stacked with lean muscle, she looks like she could kick my ass using just her pinky finger.

There’s also something familiar about her, but I can’t figure out what.

“You’ll be quiet,” the woman says with such vehement authority that I do, in fact, go very quiet. “ Serce’s granddaughter is not welcome here.”

The coldness in her eyes sets the hairs on the back of my neck at attention. Shit. Maybe that was the wrong hand to play.

But who is this woman, and how did she know my grandmother?

“I don’t know what vile scheme brought you here, but the only reason I’m allowing you to live is so His Majesty can question you first.”

Then she scans me from head to toe, her eyes narrowing ever so slightly with an implied threat, before she turns on her heel.

“Come,” she says to the guards before they all disappear, leaving me alone in my cell as Zerra’s clock tick tick ticks over my head.