All the Stars and Teeth(10)



“I needed to ensure you didn’t lose focus,” Father says, as if reading my thoughts. “Remember, Amora, until you or Yuriel have children, you are but one of two possible heirs left for the throne. Right now, the most important thing you can do for this kingdom is perform well tonight and claim that title.”

I squint my eyes shut as frustration swells within me, trying to quell it enough to see the situation clearly.

I know tonight is important. And it makes sense that the Kers are angry. But if Father let them get away with practicing multiple magics, Cato’s agreement with the beast would be voided and the kingdom would fall.

However, without the help of the Valukans, the Kers’ homes are being destroyed. We can’t let that happen, either.

“We need another way to help them,” I say. “We can strengthen their understanding of the potential dangers of practicing multiple magics, but we also need to give them stronger materials for their buildings and help them repair. We can’t take away their only source of protection.”

He sets a hand on my shoulder. “And I don’t intend to. But as the King of Visidia, I have to protect all our people. Keeping the Valukans there was a death sentence on our kingdom. But trust that we’re figuring it out, Amora. Trust that I’m going to fix it.”

Of course I want to trust that Father will make things right, but what I don’t understand is why he isn’t already in Kerost, helping them rebuild. If the storm was last season, why are we still standing around trying to figure this out?

“Just where does Kaven fit into this?” My head feels thicker by the second. How have I been so clueless? How has everyone managed to keep this from me?

Clearly wishing the discussion over, Father’s sigh is long and annoyed. “He’s a man who doesn’t agree with some of the decisions I’ve made,” he answers flatly. “But no one can agree with everything I do, can they? He’s no threat to us. Now settle your thoughts. All will be fine for one more night.”

Thinking back to the Valukan’s angry face, I’m not sure I believe his easy dismissal. I want to argue with Father and tell him I deserve to know more, but as I open my mouth, Aunt Kalea comes clambering up the hill with a grin. My aunt doesn’t wait for permission to approach, or even stop to think for a moment that she might be interrupting something important. Carelessly, just barely avoiding my epaulettes, she throws her arms around me with a hearty laugh.

“Oh, my beautiful girl! What a vision you are!” When she pulls away, she bats Father lightly in the shoulder. “How did an oaf like you manage to raise such a radiant woman, Audric? She’s stunning!”

Father laughs. “She gets all her charm from Keira. I’m afraid all she gets from me is her stubbornness.”

“And your sense of adventure,” I add, which makes Father still, his eyes softening. It’s a strange moment; a slow one where he trails his eyes over me, then onto the crown, as though seeing me in it for the first time. When he smiles again, it’s warm with pride and heats my blood.

“And my sense of adventure.” He turns to his sister and claps her on the shoulder. “If you’ll excuse me, I should find my wife before the ceremony, but bring Jordi and Yuriel by and we’ll celebrate with some wine afterward. I’ve three barrels reserved just for us.” He grins toothily, looking like the silly older brother I only see him be when my aunt’s around.

“And Amora?” he adds quietly. I turn, nearly flinching back when he bows his head to me. “I love you. Remember that after tonight, won’t you? Once you’re officially the heir and are off on all those grand adventures of yours.”

“Don’t go getting all sappy on me now,” I tell him, trying to hide my embarrassment. “I love you, too.”

His smile is soft as he bends to kiss my forehead. The teeth of the eel crown graze my cheek.

And then Father’s gone, leaving my aunt in his place.

She’s lovely in a gown of soft blue. It’s a statement gown—a mix of Arida’s sapphire and Mornute’s soft hues. It says she understands her roots are with Arida, but that it’s no longer her home. She’s a small woman with olive skin similar to Father’s, deeply tanned and brushed with gold from so much time spent in the sun. She’s plump and youthful, with only the soft wrinkles around her eyes hinting at her age.

“I’m so glad I found you before the performance,” Aunt Kalea says. “How do you feel?”

For as long as I can remember, Aunt Kalea’s hands have always been the softest, warmest ones I’ve ever known. She cups them around my arms, holding me close so she can inspect me with molten eyes. They’re the same eyes as Father’s, but significantly less stern. And though she does well at masking her expression, worry rests in the tightness of her breaths and the hitch of her words. If she’s to keep her lavish life on Mornute, she can’t afford for me to make any mistakes tonight. And I can’t afford to, either.

Should I fail to demonstrate control over my magic and prove I’ve tamed the beast within me, I’ll be held until Aunt Kalea’s proven she can become the throne’s successor. Given that the law dictates a Montara without fully controlled soul magic cannot remain free, I can’t ignore the possibility that I could even be executed if I’m deemed too much of a risk. Our magic is too dangerous to not be fully controlled.

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