Broken (17 page)

“Are you enjoying yourself?” He settled on the bench beside her and lightly touched her arm with his fingertips.

“I am, actually. Cade is very good company.” She gently jabbed Cade’s arm with her elbow. “He’s educating me on your childhood.”

Octavion growled. “You better not tell her any of my secrets, cousin.”

Cade laughed. “Would I do that?” He looked at Kira and winked.

“Yes, you would.” Octavion put his hand out for Kira to take. “I would like you to meet someone.”

She feigned a fearful expression. “Should I be afraid?”

He smiled. “Oh, yes, very afraid.” Then he stood and pulled her up after him. He led her to the other side of the grass area where the children played. All around the perimeter were tents, lean-tos and canopies of all sizes, shapes and colors. Some were decorated with furs and fabric, while others were plain and simple. They came to a canopy, by far the most ornate, that stayed cool under the shade of several trees. Shrubs and flowers surrounded it and just inside the large opening was a throne—an empty throne.

“What . . .”

“Wait,” he said.

The entire festival of people fell silent as everyone, even the children, turned toward them. People came out of their tents and gathered close. Octavion raised one hand into the air and they all knelt. She felt the most powerful, majestic spirit engulf her, so strong it took her breath away. It only lasted a few seconds, but when the king appeared and she glimpsed his grand countenance, she instinctively fell to her knees and lowered her eyes. Beside her Octavion knelt on one knee.

“Kira, raise your head,” Octavion whispered.

Kira slowly brought her eyes to meet the king’s. There she saw gentleness, compassion. He smiled at her, then scanned the crowd. When he stepped down from the throne and offered his hand to Kira, the crowd gasped.

“You must be Kira,” he said in a smooth voice, his tone completely composed, confident.

“Yes.” She wanted to say ‘your majesty’ or ‘your highness’, but wasn’t sure what was proper. Instead, she placed her hand in his and let him gently pull her to her feet.

Octavion stood as well.

Kira felt entranced by the king—the mirror image of his son, with only with a few wrinkles at the corners of his eyes and gray around his temples. However, unlike Octavion, he exuded tranquility. She felt a sense of peace surrounding her as he bowed his head to her. She assumed he had paid her a great gesture of respect and honor. To have a king bow to a commoner was unheard of, even in her world. He gently pressed his lips to the back of her hand and then straightened.

“You are indeed a vision of purity, my child. My son has made a wise choice.” He released her hand and motioned for the others to continue with their games. Then he returned to his throne.

After discovering his deception about Serena’s death, she’d thought the king to be some kind of monster. She’d already decided she hated the man, but now she didn’t know what to think. He seemed like a compassionate father who loved his kingdom. She couldn’t help wondering if it was all a show for the crowd. She hoped not—she really wanted to like him.

Octavion took her hand and led her through the swarm of buzzing children where Luka busily entertained them. He had one child on each arm while spinning them around in circles. As he caught sight of their escape, he pleaded for Octavion to rescue him.

“Not a chance, cousin,” he said. “I have
princely
duties to attend to.”

Luka growled as several of the children pulled him to the ground and the others piled on top.

Octavion escorted Kira back to her seat, then crouched in front of her. He tried to look in her eyes, but she pretended to pay attention to Mara, who now sat nearby. Several women gathered around while Mara gave advice on how to raise the perfect child. Spoiled child was more like it, although Kira had to admit she liked Arela very much.

“Kira, are you sure you are not keeping something from me?”

Kira looked into his eyes and tried to be convincing. She smiled. “I’m sure. Now go save Luka.”

He grimaced. “Must I?”

“I love watching you with the children.” She looked over his shoulder to find Luka down on all fours giving rides. “Besides, I want to see if I can pull more secrets out of your cousin, here.”

Cade wrapped his arm around her shoulders and pulled her close. “I will take care of her.”

Octavion’s expression turned more serious, his attention focused on Cade. “I forgot to thank you for bringing her back to the castle.” He paused for a moment. “I owe you.”

Cade seemed uncomfortable with the compliment. “You owe me nothing.”

As Octavion walked away, Cade leaned closer and whispered, “What is wrong?”

She rubbed a piece of lace at her cuff between her fingers. “Nerves—meeting the king and all.”

“Kira, I am not a fool. Is it the prince thing? I have not told Octavion, if that is what you are worried about.” He turned in his seat so he faced her. “You are safe in Xantara. It is rare for a strange Royal to penetrate the castle walls without permission. The penalty is severe and we always take extreme precautions to prevent it.”

“In case you haven’t noticed, we’re not in the castle. We’re not even inside the village walls anymore.”

“True, but you have me to protect you here.” He winked, then slapped one of his legs. “As long as I do not have to chase them down, you should be safe enough.”

“I’m not worried about that,” she lied. “And I’m sure you’re a great protector” She tried to straightened the now mutilated piece of lace. “Can I ask you something?”

Cade folded his arms and waited for her to continue, but she didn’t know how to ask. He’d want to know the reason behind her question.

“Umm . . . I wonder what kind of music you have in your world. I miss it.”

A smirk crossed Cade’s face. “Music? That is your question?”

“Yeah. I thought you’d have some musicians here at the festival. Arela said there might be a flute player. Does Octavion play the flute?” She hadn’t planned to make the question so specific, but now that she had, she regretted it.

Cade let out a hoot. “Octavion? Play a flute?” He broke out in laughter, so hard she couldn’t tell if she’d said something funny or felt great pain—or both. One hand held his stomach while the other clenched the spot on his back where he’d been injured. Every time he took a breath he moaned from the pain, then went right back to laughing.

Kira slapped his arm. “Stop that, people are staring.” Two women sitting with Mara craned their necks to see around a rather plump lady in a red dress. Kira smiled and shrugged, pretending she had no idea why Cade acted like a complete imbecile. “You’re gonna get me in trouble.”

A few more guttural laughs and Cade finally slowed to an occasional chuckle. “Why would you ask such a thing? A Royal—no a
prince
—would never stoop to play an instrument meant for a commoner, especially Octavion.” He stretched, but cringed before his back straightened completely.

“I asked about music in general. The part about Octavion playing a flute just slipped out.”

“Then the answer is yes. We usually have music at events like this.” He turned to face her, his expression grave. “But we felt it improper because Xantara is still in mourning.”

“Oh.” Kira felt like she’d been kicked in the gut. Only a few days had passed since Lydia’s death. Of course they’d want to respect the Royal family’s feelings.

“I am sorry, Kira. I wish I could speak to you about it, but—”

“I know,” she blurted, putting her hand up between them. “You’re not allowed.”

They sat in silence for a moment. Cade cleared his throat again. “Would you like something to drink? I could call Octavion to fetch us something.”

Kira quickly scanned the crowd for Octavion. Several young boys watched him with intent curiosity while he twisted a piece of rope or leather in his hands. “No, he’s enjoying himself. Point me in the right direction and I’ll get something for us.”

“Are you sure? I could send someone to find Ussay.”

“I’m sure. I need to get up and move around anyway.” She stood and turned to face him. “Anything particular you want?”

He pointed to a large canopy where several wooden barrels were stacked. Three lay on their sides with spigots drilled into the ends. A large robust man stood next to them, filling cups in a variety of sizes provided by the villagers lined up beside him. “Unless you want to scoop water from the river down below, there is no other choice than what is provided for us in those barrels. Do not worry though. King Belesgar always provides the best nectar for the festivals.”

“Nectar?”

“A mixture of several local fruits. It is quite delicious.”

Kira wrinkled her nose. “It isn’t wine, is it? I hate wine.”

Cade laughed. “No, Belesgar saves that for special occasions.”

“Oh.” Kira glanced back to the man dispensing the fruit juice. “We didn’t bring cups.”

“No need. He provides them for Royals.”

Kira propped her fists on her hips. “I’m not a Royal. I’m a commoner, remember?” She understood there had to be a hierarchy of some sort, but hated how commoners were treated like a lower life form; just one step away from being slaves.
Barbaric.

Cade smirked. “You are far from common. You will be queen one day.”

“Whatever.” She dropped her hands and walked away. As much as she wanted to spend the rest of her life with Octavion, she knew in her heart she wasn’t queen material. Not even close. Even the thought made the hairs on her arms twitch. Besides, it wasn’t like he’d proposed.

The line of people waiting to get their cups filled wrapped around the refreshment tent, past the display of intricately woven baskets and stopped behind stacks of cages filled with live poultry. The birds—for lack of a better description—were unlike any foul she’d ever seen. The strangest one had light blue feathers on its chest, green feet and a large red quill sticking out the top of its head. The rest of its body was totally bare, as if shaved clean. They were loud and obnoxious, the stench almost unbearable.

Kira took her place at the end of the line despite several offers to let her go to the front. Everyone she met seemed nice—smiled, curtsied or offered to assist her in some way—but she couldn’t help notice the stares. Whether it was her hair, eyes, or the fact she was from another planet, she didn’t know, but it bugged her. Even if their intensions were good, she still couldn’t shake the uneasy feeling she was on display. But then, she’d felt that a lot lately.

She tried to blow it off and enjoy the contrast between the warm sun beating down on her skin and the cool breeze wafting up from the distant lake. Unfortunately, the line moved agonizingly slow and the stench from the birds soon became unbearable. After several minutes of trying not to breathe, she decided her thirst wasn’t worth sacrificing fresh air. She slipped out of line and began making her way back to her seat near Cade. As she rounded the corner of the basket weaver’s tent—almost tripping over the guide wire—her focus shifted to the cemetery. Lydia’s final resting place called to her as if they still shared the magical connection of the Crystor.

Kira twisted the tiny thread of silver between her fingers, being careful not to kink the bracelet. It had no powers now—even its magical qualities couldn’t connect her with Lydia beyond the grave—but she was sure the reason it hadn’t fallen off was because of Altaria. Their connection seemed more important now than ever.

“Would you like to visit her grave?” she said aloud so Altaria could hear.

A warm sensation filled her heart. She wasn’t sure she could endure the grief that visiting Lydia’s grave would bring, but if that’s what her new kindred spirit wanted, she’d do it. She lifted the hem of her skirt and began the walk up the slight incline to the cemetery.

“Kira!”

Kira released her skirt and let out a deep sigh.
Octavion.
So much for visiting her friend. She slowly turned, making no effort to close the distance between them.

“Where are you going?” Octavion said as he came close enough for her to see into his eyes. Happiness shone in his countenance—more than she’d ever seen before. He brushed an unruly strand of hair away from her face and tucked it behind her ear. “Cade said you were thirsty. You should have said something. I would have gone for you.”

Kira smiled up at him, trying not to reveal the disappointment in him finding her. She felt the pull of Lydia’s grave even more strongly now that she’d been interrupted. “I wanted to go for a walk.” She motioned toward the cemetery. “Please don’t tell me there’s some stupid law against visiting her grave. It’s bad enough not being able to talk about her.”

Octavion closed his eyes for a moment, as if praying for help to find the right words. He opened his deep blue eyes and took her hands in his. “I need to talk to you about something, but . . .” He glanced in the direction of his father, then turned back to face her. “Not now. Not here.”

Kira pulled her hands from his and wrapped her arms around herself. “Look. I know you can’t talk about her. I know you can get in trouble if you do. Fine. I get it. But
you’ve
had time to grieve. You went to her funeral. You said your goodbyes. I need to see her grave. I need to tell her how much I miss her.” She turned away from him to hide the tears streaming down her face.