Queen of Myth and Monsters (Adrian X Isolde, #2)(25)

Empty? I straightened at his words, confused. “But…we were burned.”

Adrian’s jaw tensed. “I took what was left of the bones and ash and buried them in a single grave,” he said. “I…couldn’t leave you unburied.”

I wanted to ask him why, but I didn’t. He had said the grave was empty, that someone had stolen what remained of my coven…of me.

“What if Ravena intends to resurrect High Coven?”

I shook my head, a thickness gathering in my throat, making it harder to breathe. Ravena had worked too hard to kill us only to bring us back. No. There was no reason to seek the remains of witches, save for one purpose—she wanted our magic.

I met Adrian’s gaze. “Take me to the grave.”





Seven





Isolde

Adrian did not question my need to see the grave.

I was not even certain why I needed to see it, only that I did. I knew it was not where we had died. It was only where we had rested the last two hundred years, and perhaps that was why, because every other place in this land reminded me of my death.

Nothing reminded me of peace.

I changed into boots and pulled on a heavy, fur-lined cloak before joining Adrian in the courtyard where he waited with Shadow. Though as I started to leave the castle, I found he was not alone but stood opposite Daroc.

I lingered in the shadow of the doorway and listened.

“Given yesterday’s attack, I do not think it wise to venture into the forest alone,” Daroc said, displeasure lacing his tone.

“Your concerns are noted, General,” Adrian replied.

“And yet you ignore me in favor of what? Pleasing your queen?”

“How is it that you manage to continuously express both concern and disdain for my wife, Daroc?”

“My concern is for your queen. My disdain is for you.”

Adrian smirked at his comment.

“If you wanted to play the role of a knight, then you should have come to her rescue during High Council.”

“Razan is an idiot,” Daroc said. “Arguing with him is a waste of time.”

“What a coincidence. This too feels like a waste of time.”

Even I felt the harshness of those words, and they were enough to convince Daroc to relent. The general turned and entered the castle, hesitating when he saw me. For a moment, I saw the pain burning in his eyes before he managed to call up his mask and harden his face. He continued past me, and I found that I could not breathe until he was out of sight.

Only then did I take a breath and join Adrian outside.

It was cold and the clouds, heavy with snow, made the day darker.

“You were unkind,” I said as I approached.

“Daroc is used to me,” Adrian said, holding out a gloved hand for me to take. He stood back as I mounted Shadow, and from my position on his horse, I stared down at him.

“He is not wrong to express his concerns,” I said. “You could handle them with far more care than you did.”

Adrian raised a brow. “You would have rather I agreed and declined your request?”

“No, but you did not need to tell him his concern was a waste of time. That is unforgivable.”

Adrian frowned. “What would you have me do?”

“Apologize to him,” I said. “He was merely cautioning you.”

“He implied I could not take care of you,” Adrian said, and his jaw tightened.

“You assumed that is what he meant. Could that be because you weren’t here to care for me yesterday?”

Adrian’s jaw grew even more tense, but he said nothing, choosing instead to mount behind me. He spurred Shadow on, through the courtyard and outside the gates where the treasonous dead remained, bodies anointed in snow, among them Gesalac, whose large body was already completely impaled by the spear—the pointed end protruding from the base of his neck, where his head would have been.

Adrian guided Shadow down the hill with slow precision. Parts of the path were packed with snow, which made them far more perilous. On the descent, I found myself leaning back into his warmth, and despite his frustration with me, he kept his arm secured around my waist.

As we approached town, my heart grew heavier.

The villagers had begun constructing a large, wooden pyre where the thirty or so bodies resting in the sanctuary would be burned later tonight. My hope was that no one else passed in that time. We had lost enough life.

Adrian’s arm tightened around me.

We did not speak as we made our way through Cel Ceredi. Not even the heavy snowfall could hide yesterday’s destruction. At least Adrian’s soldiers helped with repairs, among them Miha and Isac.

“Killian?” I asked, spotting my commander with the villagers. He knelt at the corner of a home, repairing damage where an aufhocker had effortlessly torn away a wall to reach the family inside.

I swallowed hard.

Would I do something similar?

I placed my hand over Adrian’s and halted our horse.

The commander looked up when he heard his name and rose to his feet. He wore civilian clothes—a brown tunic, pants, and thick-soled boots. I had not expected to see him like this, much less helping my people. He came forward and bowed.

“My queen,” he said, eyes shifting to Adrian. “My king.”