Reign the Earth (The Elementae #1)(40)

“Who are they?” came another voice. “Who are the Resistance?”

I opened my mouth, but no sound came. I knew what my husband wanted me to say—what I had to say. But they said “Resistance,” and I heard “Rian.” If we spoke of Elementae, I would hear my own name.

“I don’t know,” I told the child. “Perhaps the king, in his wisdom, knows more than I do. I don’t know who they are. But I know that where they go, violence will follow. And you must …” My voice lost its surety. “You must …”

“You must defend yourselves and your families from evil.”

My head rose as everyone turned to look behind them. Up at the top of the amphitheater, Galen started to come down the steps, his eyes on me for a long moment before they swept over the room.

“You are the nation’s every hope,” he said as he descended. “And you must be the ones to tell your parents or your praeceptae if you see someone using elemental magic. You must know what to look for—anything that seems out of place, or strange, or unnatural. You must trust your instincts on this—you are trained men and women of the Trifectate, and you know right from wrong.”

He came to me, bowing over my hand before kissing it and returning to his audience. He clasped his hands behind his back.

“Your queen was threatened yesterday,” he told them, glaring at them like they were responsible. “Who among you will defend her?”

Every boy leaped to his feet, shouting.

“Women, will you not defend your queen?” he asked.

“They’re just girls!” one boy shouted.

“When our nation is strong, we are all strong!” Galen shouted. “When our nation is defended, our queen is defended! How will you defend her?” he asked, pointing to an older girl up front.

“By trusting my instincts?” she said.

“Yes!” he shouted. “Keep your eyes open! Trust your instincts!”

The girls stood now too, and everyone clapped and shouted excitedly at him. Galen surveyed them sternly, not seeming to enjoy their praise, and as young as he was, I could see the military commander in him.

“Now,” he said, “while I’m here, I wish to examine our future recruits.” He nodded to one of the standing women, who clapped her hands and ordered the children to the training grounds. They began filing out, and Galen turned to me. “Forgive the intrusion,” he said, bowing his head.

“It was welcome,” I said. “I didn’t really know what to say.”

He shook his head. “Calix has always been totally at ease before a crowd. It took me far longer to feel comfortable speaking to others.” His mouth pursed thoughtfully. “And still most of what I do is shouting.”

I looked down. “That,” I agreed softly. “And you managed to say what he wanted without it sounding so very hateful.”

“Keeping an eye on your surroundings and trusting your own understanding is usually good advice for our recruits. I figured it applied here. Truly, I don’t think there’s much for them to observe, so I don’t see the harm in it.”

“There’s harm in rewarding turning on one another,” I told him.

His eyes cut to me, and then behind me, where I was sure Adria still stood. “You should stay for training,” he told me flatly. “I’m sure the boys will enjoy fighting for your praise.”

“More fighting,” I said, my voice barely more than a sigh.

The corner of his mouth turned up the smallest bit. “Less blood with the children, usually.” He offered me his arm, and I caught my breath as I put my hand on him. He lowered his arm a little, pulling me closer as we walked forward. “Adria is not to be trusted,” he told me softly. “I don’t mean to rebuke you, but you must watch your words around her.”

It was the same as the ishru—my husband would not be defied, would not be diminished, and certainly not by his wife. You will believe what I tell you to believe, he had said to me. My gaze dropped to the floor, and I felt Galen’s eyes on me, but I didn’t look up.


He left us at the side of an arena with the rest of the girls and went to advise the boys as they practiced fighting. The girls all watched, straight backed and silent. Adria matched their posture perfectly. I noticed one girl, seated in the back with no one around her, her hair short at her neck while every other girl had long braids.

“They cut the hair of willful, unruly girls,” Adria said, following my gaze. “So no one will marry her.”

“What does her hair have to do with marriage?”

“There are contests,” Zeph explained, clearing his throat. “The Consecutio. The boys prove their lessons in physical combat. When they win a contest, they are allowed two privileges—to join the army, and the choice of a wife.”

“Wife—they’re children,” I said, looking to him.

“Elena—the one with short hair—has seventeen years,” Adria told me. Her eyes flicked over me. “The same as you, my queen.”

I looked back at her, surprised. She looked like a child to me. When people saw me, did they see a queen, or a girl in a silver crown?

“The boys are not given much to judge the women with,” Zeph told me. “The hair—it warns of an unsuitable match.”