The Reigning Star Read online

  The Reigning Star

  (The Orien Trilogy, Book Three)

  Catherine Wilson

  Copyright @ 2017 by Catherine Wilson

  All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce this book or portions thereof.

  This book is a work of fiction. Any names, places, characters, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination, or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, locales or events is entirely coincidental.

  Cover Design by Jane Dixon-Smith

  Edited by Cynthia Shepp

  For Jack and Rowan, the keepers of my heart.

  Contents

  One

  Two

  Three

  Four

  Five

  Six

  Seven

  Eight

  Nine

  Ten

  Eleven

  Twelve

  Thirteen

  Fourteen

  Fifteen

  Sixteen

  Seventeen

  Eighteen

  Nineteen

  Twenty

  Twenty-One

  Twenty-Two

  Twenty-Three

  Twenty-Four

  Twenty-Five

  Twenty-Six

  Twenty-Seven

  Twenty-Eight

  Twenty-Nine

  Thirty

  Thirty-One

  Thirty-Two

  Thirty-Three

  Thirty-Four

  Thirty-Five

  Thirty-Six

  Thirty-Seven

  Thirty-Eight

  Thirty-Nine

  Forty

  Forty-One

  Forty-Two

  Forty-Three

  Forty-Four

  Forty-Five

  Forty-Six

  Forty-Seven

  Forty-Eight

  Epilogue

  Acknowledgements

  One

  “Little rascals.”

  Vivi peers over the stone balcony, daggers shining in her gaze. Her fingers tighten along the edge, and she inches forward, almost knocking one of Queen Rosaline’s precious plants from its potted perch. A small gasp leaves her throat, and her once-dangerous eyes turn a soft puddle of sheepish green. I smile on the inside, while sending her a stiff reprimand with my stare.

  “Indeed,” I say.

  It’s the fourth time she’s nearly sent that plant to its doom. Those little rascals have known of our presence for quite a while.

  “When the king and queen told us to prepare for the wrath of our father, I assumed they meant all together,” she whispers, turning back to the yard. “So I may have accidentally burned a few strands of someone’s hair that one time. Who’s to say it’s not safe for me to practice with them anymore? I nearly stabbed someone every day for a month while I was trying to learn how to throw that blasted dagger, and nobody said a word then.”

  Oh, we did. Just not very loud, as we valued our tongues.

  I slip a comforting arm around her shoulder and lean into the ledge. Below us, Oliver and Sam look on, while Aras and Ian raise their bows toward the round targets by the wall. Considering the way their blue tunics stick to their backs and how Aras’ dark, unruly curls reach for the sky, I’d say they’ve been at it for most of the afternoon.

  “But it’s not as if we haven’t been without our fun,” I coax, giving her a gentle squeeze. “Why, I’d guess those rascals would give their right arm to be able to shoot fire from their palms. It’s not their fault we require a different sort of practice.”

  Vivi’s lips purse with thought, the slight slump of her shoulders the only sign she’s willing to digest my words. I know it can’t be easy for her to watch the boys have all the fun while we slave away with a deadly magic that threatens to make us come undone. We’ve been all but sequestered with Mother since Vivi showed her hand, surprising us with a gift we never knew she had. Although Papa was aware of her powers since the moment they first locked eyes, the rest of us were kept in the dark—a promise he made to her only because she insisted on telling us herself. When Vivi asked if I was angry, I had simply laughed.

  Who am I to be upset with my sister for keeping a secret that saved her life? To be honest, I’m amazed she managed to keep the magic hidden without burning her tiny body from the inside out.

  “One would think after three days of having to slink around in the shadows like silenced rats, one of those boys would come to his senses and invite us to join their game.” Her voice echoes through the closed yard, and I pull back, taking it as a sign that she’s done with her slinking for the day. After all, slinking is a hard business for us girls. It’s more like stomping, fussing, and accidental burning.

  All on Vivi’s account, of course.

  “Ah, Vivi. Is that you?” Sam lowers his bow long enough to give a backward glance our way. His eyes flick to the target once more, and his arrow spirals neatly to its center. “Had I known we had an audience, I might have tried a little harder to impress.”

  A few quiet snickers fill the air, but one look at Vivi’s face puts a stop to them—quick. If there is one collective understanding about the princesses from Orien, it’s not to push their tempers. It’s a lesson Sam has been hard-pressed to learn.

  I can’t decide if this makes me like him more or not.

  “Besides, this war won’t be won with steel and arrow, but with the fire of one’s heart. We all know you and your sister hold the true victory for our kingdom. If anyone has the right to be jealous, it’s us.”

  Yes. Well, that makes it easy. Definitely more.

  “Me? Jealous?” Vivi snaps her fingers, allowing her outrage to flame to life on their tips. Whether she means it to or not, a wild spark lashes out, sending Queen Rosaline’s plant into a smoking pile of ash. Before any more innocent beings can be harmed, I grab her hands in my own, extinguishing her heat with our mother’s cooling touch.

  For the first time since they’ve somewhat regrettably acknowledged our presence, the three men around him begin to shift on uneasy feet.

  “No worries, Viviana,” Ian calls. He looks up, all shining, white teeth as he wipes a hand across his sweaty brow. “Mother never really liked that flower anyway.”

  Vivi, longing to become one with the plant, wilts. “Oh, now you’re just being kind. What did we tell you about being too kind? It’s not becoming on you.”

  “Not much is,” Aras quips, giving Ian’s shoulder an awkward, but good-natured pat.

  My eyes flash to his face, and a familiar heat fills my chest. One of longing and secrets and cool nights spent under a blanket of stars.

  The sound of my handsome prince, brought back from the dead.

  Though we’ve come to watch the boys in the few days since Vivi used her magic to set Aras’ will free, we haven’t witnessed much interaction between the two. Mostly their meetings consist of Oliver and Sam running through meaningless practice drills, designed more to keep the prince’s mind busy than for actual protection of the kingdom. We all know that Knox and his promised guards will arrive soon. It’s our hope that between Vivi and me, we will be enough to stop them. Thankfully, Theron’s people are not without their own means of protection. But while Ian’s ability to block magic will serve him well, Aras is another story. He’s always been good with a bow, but there’s not much a flying arrow can do against a raging fire. Especially once Knox finds out Vivi has restored his will… a realization we’re not yet sure has occurred.

  Ashen help us if it has.

  “True,” Ian says, letting Aras’ words slide off as if they’re old friends and not once enemies. His eyes flick up to my own, a silent question written in his stare. We’ve hardly spoken since I ran from his rooms, a frantic mess desperate to s
olve my little sister’s wiles. Since then, we’ve both been busy preparing for what feels like the end. Me with my magic, and he with his duty. We haven’t spoken of the marriage, but something about his guarded posture tells me we will soon. “I think we have a fair understanding of how Viviana’s feeling, but what of you, Penelope? How do you feel?”

  How do I feel?

  My gaze finds Aras, who toes his boot in the dirt, studiously ignoring the heat of my attention, though I know he can feel it all the same. It’s been two days since our messy reunion back in our chambers when Aras’ memories were still flooding his heart, and we latched onto each other in desperate hopes of staying afloat. Since then, he’s been but a shadow in my world. Always there, yet forever disappearing when I turn around. Although it hurts, I can’t say I blame him. He’s returned to a world that is not his own, changed and hardened by a crazed magic and a forced love. Even if I could walk away from this all… leave sweet Ian to find another life… who is to say Aras wants me now?

  The question is a valid one. How do I feel?

  At the moment, it’s as if my entire world has been slowly ripped apart, each piece painstakingly removed and thrown into the air like an exploding firelight in the sky. And then, just when a mighty wind blows with the promise of putting it all back together, I find I’m disappointed. For how can I be happy when the pieces are warped, and they no longer fit? But because those thoughts seem a little too dreary and uncomfortable for the heady summer afternoon, I should probably go with a somewhat truth.

  “I suppose I’m well for a… How did you put it, Vivi?”

  “A silenced rat.”

  “Yes,” I affirm, struggling to keep my voice steady. “A silenced rat.”

  A hint of a smile dusts along the curve of Aras’ cheek, and though he refuses to look at me, I feel his amusement as if it were my own.

  “And the practices? They’re going well?” Ian steps forward, lowering his voice as if it’s just the two of us and not an audience full of onlookers who are more than curious to see the prince conquer his princess.

  If only they knew I’m dreadfully hard to catch.

  Leaning forward, I rest my forearms along the rail, determined to give him an honest answer. It’s the very least he deserves. “The practices are going as well as they can. Despite years of careful suppression, Vivi’s fire burns brighter with each second, as I’m sure your mother’s poor plant can attest. And as for me, I guess you could say I’m growing, too. Although, I can’t help but wonder if it will be enough.”

  “It will be,” Aras says, his firm voice cutting me off with a fierce certainty rather than a guess. All eyes land on him, and he shrugs as if he were only stating what we were already thinking. Which would be fine, if that was indeed our line of thought. But it wasn’t… not even close. The truth is, while Knox knew he could use me to take down Theron, he never had any worries about the damage I could do to him in return. Most likely because I couldn’t do any. And if Aras thinks something different, it’s because he knows something we don’t.

  My brow furrows, the rebuttal on my lips, when a lithe and ever-efficient Sireen appears by the open balcony doors. “Princess Vivi, Princess Brave. Your mother wishes to speak with you. She had her bedroom window open, and she’s worried she might have smelled a little… smoke.”

  If this is Sireen’s creative way of saying trouble, I may have to consider increasing her pay.

  “Did she now?” Vivi asks, eyes narrowing as she turns to take her in. “It’s strange, her sudden increase of smell. Almost as if she has a rather large cat lounging about her rooms who could catch the scent of a mouse from a mile away. But I suppose we were about to leave, considering the boys won’t be nice and let us play. Besides, Ian’s stable boy is getting a little mouthy.”

  Sam’s cheeks turn a bright shade of red, fury lining the thin press of his lips. “I’ve never stepped one foot in those stables, Vivi, and you know it.”

  If anything, Vivi is only goaded. “Listen, friend, it’s not my fault you smell like manure. Maybe if you washed up every now and then, I wouldn’t get confused.”

  “Manure, is it?” Sam gapes. “I’m surprised I don’t still smell of burnt hair, as it wasn’t but a day ago that you singed my scalp.”

  A collective grumble fills the air. Not this again.

  When I had caught Vivi sneaking off into the night like a rogue teenager up to no good, she had fussed at me for even assuming she was headed for mischief. “I’m only going to try to burn him,” she had bristled, which spoken by anyone else sounded like murder on a good day. At the time, I thought she meant Aras, and I also thought she was kidding. I should know by now that my sister is, of all things, blunt, especially when roaming about in the dark.

  “Oh, is that what this is about?” she fusses, throwing her hands in the air. “You had plenty to say about my skills with the dagger, but not a word when it came to the fire. The way I see it, this could all be your fault.”

  “My fault? You came to me under false distress, claiming some nonsense about needing my help, and then you unleashed your crazed fire about my room. It was all I could do to keep my barrier up until I could coax you into putting it out.”

  “Wait,” I start, tugging on her arm. “Sam had to help you control the magic?”

  “It was a minor difficulty,” she murmurs, eyes still set on the fuming boy below. “Mainly because I was giggling so.”

  At this, even tight-lipped Sireen almost comes undone.

  “It’s called a surprise attack, Sam,” she continues, studiously ignoring the tickled handmaiden at our back. “I was only trying to help. It’s not as if Father is going to knock on your door when he arrives and politely ask if he can burn the flesh from your bones. The way I see it, I may have very well saved your life.”

  “By almost ending it!”

  “Again with the minor details.”

  This time when I tug her arm, my insistence is hard to miss. “We should finish this discussion at another time, Vivi. Mother is waiting, and I’d hate for her to think we’ve set another accidental fire.”

  Vivi sends one last desperate look to Ian, the only one in this kingdom who might be willing to let her have her way, but he responds with a slight shake of his head. Intent, it seems, on staying out of our mess. For not the first time, I admire his instincts.

  “Fine.” Vivi huffs, sending Sam her most-vicious glare. “But once I explain the situation to Queen Rosaline, I’m sure she’ll have no problem with us practicing with the group. We may have the fire, but you still need our support.”

  Turning to leave the boys to their practice, I allow my eyes to linger on Aras’ frame before he sets his attention on the target, lost to me once more. “You’re right, sister. We need support and lots of it, too.”

  Two

  True to her calm demeanor, our visit with Mother wasn’t nearly as serious and lengthy as it probably should have been. When we first walked into the room, she had held out her arms, beckoning us forward to find shelter under her forgiving wings. Then, when we were good and settled, her warm words surrounded us, soaking us in the quiet force of her love. “What am I going to do with you two?” She’d laughed, that rich, brilliant sound that always sends tingles across my limbs. Then, when she was sure she had our ears as well as our hearts, she reminded Vivi to watch her temper and me to watch my sister.

  It was all rather refreshing, really. For once, I wasn’t the one in boiling waters.

  “I still don’t see why Mother won’t take our side on this,” Vivi says as we meander back into our chambers with Sireen at our heels. Vivi pauses long enough to toss her boots to the side of the room, before landing with an exaggerated flop atop the bed. “It would be much easier to defeat Father if we were all working together.”

  I toss Sireen a sidelong glance, hoping she’ll back up anything I can manage to say to appease my sister, but she’s too busy floating into the washroom to prepare Vivi’s bath. If I’m not mistaken, it’s a
move she’s planned on purpose. “We’ve already been over this, Vivi,” I soothe, easing down on the bed beside her. “We are each working toward the same goal. Tomorrow morning, we will all meet with the king and queen to discuss our final plans. If you have any objections, trust me when I say you should speak them then.”

  She perks up at my words, eyes bouncing to mine in cautious excitement. “Spoken kindly,” I add, remembering to heed Mother’s words. “And you should probably run them by me before you speak them. Or perhaps even think them…”

  Vivi sighs as if she expected this much. She eases her head back onto the bed, leaving her braid to fall beside her like an inky black river. A strange unease settles over my chest at her silence, and I find myself wondering if my advice is too little, too late.

  It seems my sister already has her next words thought out, and she doesn’t plan to share them with me, either.

  “Brave,” Sireen’s unsteady voice calls from the washroom. “I think I’ve found something you should see.”

  Scrambling off the bed, I bolt across the floor, barely missing a beat when Vivi latches onto my arm. We burst into the candlelit room. There our sweet handmaiden stands, her back nothing but a silhouette as the low light illuminates her puzzled frown in the mirror. In her hands, a tanned parchment works its way through her fingers, nervous ticks along its slick surface. The same unease that overtook me not moments ago comes for me once more, this time not stopping at my chest, but seeping into my flesh, drilling into my veins, pulling at my soul.

  It’s a letter.

  Sensing my hesitation, Vivi gives my hand a gentle squeeze. Letting go, she inches forward, her shadow becoming one with Sireen’s. “Is it a love note?”

  “I should hope so!” Sireen fires back, only to cover her mouth with her free hand. A crimson blush floods her cheeks, and she shakes her head as if she’s clearing some unsightly version of herself. If only she knew this version is my favorite. “I’m sorry. Sometimes, I seem to be taken to talking out of turn.”

  “It seems we’ve become a bad influence on you.” Vivi raises her chin, tapping a finger on her lips. “I like it.”