The Mirror King (The Orphan Queen, #2)(96)

My breath fogged the glass. From here, I could see a glow on the cliffs in the west: more mirrors were hung every day, though trying to protect Aecor and be mindful of the wildlife that lived there was a tricky balance.

I let the curtain fall as I moved away.

With a touch of the switch, the gas lamp hissed to life above my desk. Notebooks lay scattered across the surface. My diary, the two linked to the Ospreys and Tobiah, and a handful I’d pulled off bookshelves in this room and my father’s.

I’d discovered their diaries weeks ago, but it had taken several days before I’d been brave enough to begin reading. But there’d been no comfort in my parents’ words. They worried about the same things I did: feeding the people, ensuring their safety, and maintaining relationships with the surrounding kingdoms.

Absent from most of their entries: the wraith.

Meanwhile, I was reminded of the wraith each day when I visited the wraith boy. My dark mirror who spoke in riddles and warnings of the coming desolation.

I pushed my parents’ journals aside and opened the entangled notebooks. Nothing from the Skyvale Ospreys. Nothing from Tobiah, either. Only my dozens of letters to him.

Some were short, simply queries about Tobiah and the Ospreys’ safety, while many were longer updates about the city and kingdom and refugees building new villages off the main roads to other Aecorian cities.

Chest heavy with stress and grief and desperation, I reached for a pen and added another note. Tobiah, it’s been a month. I’ve sent riders to look for you in Skyvale. Please answer.

I drew a line, signaling his turn, but his response never came.

Winter’s hold on Aecor eased over the next weeks.

In the very early morning, I sat down to write, even though I knew better. There’d been no replies for two months—not in the white notebook, nor the blue.

Tobiah,

“Before the anniversary of the One-Night War, you will unlock those bars and together we will take Aecor.” That’s what Patrick said when I locked him in the dungeon.

The anniversary is just days away. I’ve been looking forward to it for years. Before, because I thought it was the day I’d take back my kingdom. Now, it’s a symbol of moving beyond that awful night. If Patrick thinks he can—

A knock sounded on my door. It wasn’t Danie; she never knocked, just slipped in and out like a ghost.

“Enter!” I blew on the ink and shut the notebook.

Melanie peeked in. “One of the riders you sent to the Indigo Kingdom returned last night.”

“Finally.” I lurched to my feet, heart pounding in my throat. “What news?”

“I don’t know. Prince Colin intercepted it first, and now he’s summoning you.”

I dressed quickly and followed Melanie, my mind boiling over with questions. But like Patrick, Prince Colin was the kind of man who enjoyed making announcements.

I’d been to the council room a hundred times since coming home, but the space always seemed smaller than I remembered. Still, it was gloomy, and thick with the ancient ghosts of Aecorian rulers.

An immense stone table stood in the center of the room, six thick legs carved into waterfalls. Age had darkened the crevices of the pale blue marble, adding to the illusion of rushing water. Ten matching chairs sat around the table, their cushions new and fat.

“Please have a seat.” Crown Prince Colin Pierce, House of the Dragon, Overlord of Aecor Territory sat at the head of the table.

My father’s seat.

I loomed in the doorway, staring at his relaxed posture. My jaw ached from clenching, and anticipation made my heart race. “Tell me the news.”

Prince Colin stood, pressing his thumbs and fingertips against the table. “One of the riders from Skyvale has returned.” His expression was oddly calm.

Only one rider? That did not bode well. “Tell me.”

“Sit,” he said. “Please.”

I glanced at Melanie. James had approached behind us, and both wore masks of unease. Riders had left weeks ago. We’d been waiting every day for news.

“I’ll stand.” But I moved deeper into the room, careful to keep my expression neutral.

“Fine.” He stepped away from his chair and crossed his arms. “The rider has already been sent to the hospital to be treated for the injuries the Red Militia inflicted.”

My fists curled. Claire cooperated with me, but the entire Militia didn’t. With Patrick in prison, the Red Militia seemed to have lost cohesion, which meant individuals and small groups tended to act in their own interests.

An odd note of sympathy entered Prince Colin’s tone. “I wish you would sit.”

I caught James’s nod in the corner of my eye, and acquiesced. The captain pulled out the nearest chair for me, and then one for Melanie.

Prince Colin took his chair again. My father’s chair. “Skyvale has fallen.” His eyes moved from me to Melanie to James. “Skyvale, and the Indigo Valley, are part of the wraithland now.”

My breath came in short gasps, and tears swelled in my eyes; I blinked them away. “And the people? Were they able to escape?” Please, saints.

“Some.” He dropped his eyes. “Much of the Hawksbill nobility left the city as soon as West Pass Watch fell, but there were many who could not.”

That much I knew from Tobiah’s last letter. It was everything after that I needed to hear.