The next day she tried to write a letter to her father explaining what Nihhal had done to her. Her throat closed up instantly, the breath stolen from her body. Suffocating, she slumped to the floor. She only managed to take a breath when she started repeating in her mind: “I will not send any letter.” She spent the rest of the day in bed.
On the third day, her mother came. After ensuring that Lannahi was feeling better, she asked her about Nihhal. “He left a day earlier than he intended. Did you have an argument?”
The words Lannahi wanted to say got stuck in her throat. She stared at her mother, not breathing.
Like a living corpse, a thought flashed through her mind.
For some reason, it seemed funny to her. She took a breath.
“No,” she said.
That was how she learned to keep death at a distance.
On the fourth day, she returned to her routine. Practice magic. Play the harp. Sing. Talk about politics. Attend the balls.
A month later, she composed her first song. She named itGarden of Lifeand sang it to her father after the evening meal. He was delighted.
After long pondering, she came to the conclusion that she had to become a queen.
When someone asked her about Nihhal, she mostly lied.
She was not a coward.
She was fighting to survive.
Chapter 4
Lannahi reckoned with the possibility of seeing Nihhal again. She expected it in fact. Eight months had passed since the events in the garden, and Nihhal usually didn’t disappear for so long. When the period of his absence exceeded four months—until now the longest period of his travels—Lannahi held her breath every time a messenger announced the arrival of new guests. When it turned out that Danihel’s son wasn’t among them, she silently thanked Fate only to beg for more time a moment later. She could not enact her plan until the day of the first Royal Sabbath after her twenty-fifth birthday. If Nihhal returned before that date, Lannahi would have been as powerless as the day he left. She hated this state of uncertainty and the fact that all she could do in this regard was to count on luck, but she couldn’t be ungrateful for that despite everything, Fate was on her side…
…until now.
Sarkal must have told Nihhal that he spotted his daughters because they both looked in their direction. A moment later, Nihhal separated from the group and came to meet them.
Lannahi’s heart lurched. She imagined their reunion a hundred of times, in a futile attempt to prepare for the inevitable, but despite promising herself to confront Nihhal with pride and determination, she felt only fear wrapping its cold arms around her body and dragging her toward the black abyss.
Desperate, she clung onto the arguments she’d used to calm herself for the last few days. She was in a public place. She was surrounded by hundreds of powerful fae, including Arbiters overseeing the Rules and wind-winged guards who could hear a whisper from across a room. If Nihhal tried to enchant her, he would be seized immediately…
It wasn’t her reason that returned her to reality. It was Letiri.
“I can understand if Nihhal is the reason why you are so reluctant at the slightest suggestion of an affair with other men,” she said softly. When surprised Lannahi turned her gaze to her, Letiri curved her lips into a small smile and without taking her eyes off Nihhal added, “I’m not sure it’s a good choice, though.”
In an instant, Lannahi became aware of her surroundings again. It wasn’t Letiri’s intention, but her sister’s comment reminded her that there was always someone watching. Nihhal wasn’t the only one she should be wary of.
She wondered why Letiri didn’t consider Danihel’s son a good partner but didn’t have time to ask.
“Princess.” Nihhal bowed slightly before Letiri. “Your beauty shines like a torch. Can I believe that you are in good health?”
Letiri reciprocated the greeting and compliment with a token nod but spoke jovially, “You can believe so. And you, Nihhal, how are you? You disappeared for so long. Have you found a place that you like better than our kingdom?”
“I spend my youth on travels, but no place in the world means as much to me as our kingdom.”
Although Nihhal said the words almost fervently, a cold shiver ran through Lannahi. His declaration sounded too similar to another.
You will always be special to me. No one can replace you.
Nihhal’s gaze rested on her. She forced herself to meet it.
“Lannahi.” His voice deepened slightly, taking on a tinge of tenderness, and his dark golden eyes lit up with a particular mixture of joy and concern. “I was hoping to meet you here. I trust that the illness that came upon you so suddenly when we last met has passed. I was afraid it was something serious.”
