The clinking of plates interrupted her words, and we turned to see Kingston entering the room, accompanied by Poppy and Eleanor, two of the ladies from the kitchen. They brought trays filled with steamy rice, grilled chicken and red meat, fruits, and coffee.
“You’ll need a quick meal before we can leave,” Kingston announced.
“How long was I out?”
“The entire first half of the day,” he replied, and I turned to the window. “The second half has just begun.”
That made it approximately 1:00 p.m. Yeah, we needed to leave. “Did you speak to Asher yet?”
The chief shook his head. “You must do so personally.”
Why was he acting so weird? He spoke as though there was something monumental that needed to happen between Asher and me before I could seek the Truth Teller. “Is he outside with the others?”
Kingston nodded, and I headed for the bathroom, aka, the bathtub on the other side of the fireplace.
“There is something I want to show you before you leave,” Evie informed me when I stepped out of the room, bathed, fed, and in my Elevated Warrior suit—deciding not to wear my father’s armor yet.
“Do we have time?” I asked, glancing past her to where Kingston stood with Asher.
“It is something you must do,” Imogen added beside me, exchanging a glance with Evie.
Why was everyone so cryptic today?
“Okay,” I answered, half distracted while Kingston walked past us, taking Asher into my room, and signaling for me to join them. “I’m sorry. I’ll be right back.”
Evie seemed as confused as I felt but nodded, letting go of my hand so I could return to our quarters.
“Ask him,” Kingston urged, gesturing to Asher, who frowned at me, evidently unaware of what was going on here.
Seriously? “I understand that you have your customs here, and I truly respect that, but if I have to ask ‘my guardian’ for permission before doing everything I need to do we are never—”
“Wait.” Asher shook his head. “I’m not your guardian. I’m your commander. Kingston is Princess Evanna’s guardian because she was entrusted to him as a child, but you don’t need my—”
“Ask the question!” Kingston growled.
Both Asher and I sighed, exchanging a slightly amused glance, though we didn’t dare smirk. We didn’t want to die today.
“Asher, I humbly and with the utmost respect request your graceful and so highly regarded permission to go see the Truth Teller.” Fine, so I was being extra sarcastic, but seriously.
Asher’s face drained of all color the second the name left my mouth, and dread filled me.
“You need to see her?” he faltered, truly taken aback by my request, as though he hadn’t expected to hear that name ever again. “Why?” he added, regarding me in a way he never had. Like he resented the unwelcome reminder… because it hurt him.
Shit. There was definitely a sore spot there.
“Do you know her?” I asked softly, my hand reaching for his arm, and he nodded.
“She is my mother.”
Shock and bewilderment rushed through me, splintering like ice. “I thought your mother was dead.”
“I never said she was dead,” he explained. “I told you I lost her, because I did… to her calling.” He straightened, steeling himself to the pain that once again awoke within him. “That kind of destiny is one that gradually demands everything from you, until you no longer belong to the world you once knew. So, you must leave it behind and give yourself fully to your power. My mother did just that.”
No resentment accompanied his words. Instead, they were filled with understanding, but mostly, it was the sadness capturing them that cut through me.
“I’m so sorry, Brother.” I squeezed his shoulder in solidarity, and he placed his hand on mine, returning the gesture.
“Thank you… Why do you need to see her?”
Exchanging a glance with the chief, I proceeded to explain everything that we discovered during our visit with my mother—the missing crown, and how I needed her advice if I had any hope of defeating the Warlock King with my newly awakened, and poorly wielded, powers.
“I understand…” he offered after an encumbered sigh sank his chest. “I will take you to her.”
Kingston offered me a small smile, his gaze filling with profound relief, as though Asher agreeing to see her again was the first victory in a series of battles I had to brave before this could end.
Apparently, this was a monumental step.
“We should leave at once.” My commander whirled around, heading to the door.
“There is something Braxton and Evanna must do before we leave,” Kingston called after him, making him stop.
Glancing at us over his shoulder, Asher nodded. “Meet me behind the kitchens as soon as you are done. Only the two of you may see her, no one else.”
8
EVANNA
Nerves fluttered around my being like playful birds while Braxton and I stopped outside the throne room. Not only because of the surprise I’d prepared for him, but also for what we must do after.
Imogen, Kingston, and the rest of the guard paused behind us when I faced my mate.
Reaching for him, I took his hands in mine and glanced up into his eyes. “This is but a simple gesture, yet one deeply heartfelt,” I confessed, one hand cradling his cheek. “I wanted to do something for you after everything you have done for me.”
The confusion in his eyes transformed to love and appreciation, sending a cheeky smile to tilt his lips. “You don’t need to give me anything, Evie. Knowing you are mine is present enough.”
Grinning, I stood on my tiptoes and kissed him, then gestured to Harrison and Elijah to please open the doors. The instant we entered the room, Braxton’s eyes went straight to the wall across from us. Next to my parents’ portrait hung a large frame—concealed by a white fabric yet ready to be unveiled.
Brax didn’t need to see it to know what it was.
“You hung my father’s painting?” he asked, baffled, the amazement and happiness in his eyes fluttering my stomach with joy and warmth.
I smiled wide in turn, but he didn’t wait for a response. Walking to the wall, he pulled on the fabric, revealing the magnificent portrait of the man who had been our most dedicated warrior and strongest force. The one who not only returned hope to Caelisium by sending his son to us, but who had given me everything I never knew I wanted and desperately needed.
Imogen stopped by my side, linking my arm with hers as we both watched him. The glance we exchanged said she was as touched by the inclusion of the Harbinger in the throne room as my mate was.
“Thank you, Princess,” she whispered, and I nodded, my attention returning to the man I loved.
Braxton’s hand slowly caressed the image that now seemed larger than life. The flowers delicately engraved onto the bronze frame gleamed under the light after being properly polished at my request, and the wooden plaque with gold lettering that once fell from it now displayed the name and title of the man staring back at us.
“Khayden Skystorm, the Harbinger of Justice,” Braxton read out loud, his fingers tracing the name at the bottom of the frame.