The Reckless Reign (Book 3, The Culled Crown Series)

Chapter 47

Reubinon Palace, Pellarmus.

Sail for Erydia in six days.

Two days later, Britta and Darragh's marriage and crowning were announced publicly. The new King and Queen of Pellarmus also took that time as an opportunity to declare war on Erydia—a bold move. Nadia, Heidi, Anna and I watched it all on a broadcast screen. We hadn't wanted to go into the city, not with things getting busy around here.

Darragh was true to his word. His forces were arriving in the nearby ports—massive warships and smaller, stealthier boats—all of them prepared to leave within the week. Cohen, Dellacov, and I had walked into the nearby port early that morning, before the sun had risen and the crowds could gather from the royal proclamation.

The two boys had been quiet, their conversation a dance between the past and the future. I stayed out of it, opting to walk a few paces behind them as we wandered the readying docks. They'd come to scout the breath of Darragh's forces and see what was really going on.

I'd come to have a few minutes to breathe.

Ever since the proclamation and Britta's promise to give me a voice, I'd been watched. Everyone seemed on edge when they were around me. As if I were a fuse ready to blow. Darragh's dark eyes had tracked my every move during the meals we'd shared, his rapt attention calculative and oppressive. It reminded me of Caine. As if I were a game piece he were trying to decide how best to use.

And if my time with Caine had taught me anything, it was that not every move on the game board could be see by the naked eye. Sometimes, you needed to know where to look and what to watch for. Explosives were predicable. They would light and burn when the spark reached the end of the fuse. But I'd never been a bomb.

I was a match.

A catalyst.

And there was no telling when I would catch fire.

"Cohen?" I hurried my step so that I was walking on his other side, opposite Dellacov. His brow rose in answer as he turned to look my way. "Will Isla be in Erydia when we get there?"

He shrugged. "Maybe. I'd like to home so. She's a skilled fighter and very smart."

Dellacov didn't look at me as he said, "She'll probably be busy planning her wedding."

I started to slow my steps again, prepared to let them get ahead of me again, but another thought occurred to me. "Who trained Isla?"

Cohen's lips twitched. "What brought on this line of questions?"

I nodded out to one of the boats.

Even so early in the morning, people milled about. Sailors and soldiers mingled, working together to hoist massive crates of provisions and weapons on the glossed decks of the boats. They weren't all men. Dozens of female guards and soldiers wearing the Pellarmi colors worked to prep the ships. They carried guns and knives and wore their long hair up in braids or intricate twists at the base of their necks. Looking at them had reminded me of my friend.

"Women aren't allowed to hold guns in Erydia. It's considered crude by the temple. We are givers of life, not takers of life." My nose wrinkled as I recited the beliefs of the temple. "But it isn't like that here. Those women, they'll fight in the same way the men will."

Dellacov spared me a glance. "Some of them will fight a good bit better than the men, trust me."

I ignored his attempts to ignore me. "Yes! Exactly. It's amazing, really. Everything I know was either taught to me by my brothers, or by my Culling mentors, or by Kai. And even with the little training I have, I tend to rely on my ability. If I could have trained to fight as a child, really trained, I'd be unstoppable."