A Crown of Star and Ash (The Fate of Ashes #1)

by Victoria K. Taylor

“That bleeding heart of yours is going to get you in trouble one day. More than it already has,”

“You’re much too meek, Deya,” he said, his tone light, almost teasing. “One of these days, I swear you’ll have to grow a backbone. Even if you have to conjure it with your own magic.”

Clarita’s praise was saved for her most loyal dogs. And Deya had never been that.

“Your trust in Praiton is what will keep you safe, Deya. That is all you need to know.”

“You served Praiton your whole life,” he said, reaching out to touch the bars, as if to comfort her. “And look where that got you.”

“Praiton is no longer the kingdom it once was, Deya,” Oswallt continued, his voice gentle, but firm. “It might be time for you to realize that.”

“Mav’s purpose of balance created her five daughters. The Harvest Goddess, Arista; the Sea Goddess, Eula; the Ember Goddess, Calida; the Celestial Goddess, Astrea; and the Frost Goddess, Flykra. They were created in pairs, to balance the other—except for Arista, that is. Arista was to represent the Earth, the grounding of the realm as a whole. And so, the worship of these Goddesses gave each region their power.”

“If you survive this, promise me,” he whispered. “Promise me you will warn them. Praiton cannot get what they seek . . . Promise me that you’ll tell them. Promise you will fight this. For the both of us.”

“She mentioned how much you agonized over watching others suffer.”

“So how will it feel to watch your friend suffer for you?”

“Now pay attention, Deyanira,” the warden sang, taking Os’s hands and chaining them to the top of the post. “He will take your punishment. You should be thankful. It is customary that death be the penalty for using magic within Ironbalt.”

“You do not know what it is like to have everything taken from you by that fucking empire!” His voice cracked just slightly at the words, and Deya saw a glimmer of pain so virulent that it stopped her in her tracks. “So, no,” Caelum panted. “You do not matter to me because you will never understand.”

“Throw something like that at me again,” Caelum breathed in her ear from behind. “And I will throw this knife back. And I promise you, I do not miss.”

“Black suits you,” Val said venomously from where she was braiding part of her hair into a coronet on top of her head. “Matches your soul.”

“For fuck’s sake,” he hissed to her, her wrist still in his viselike grip. “What in the Mother do you think I’m going to do to you?” “Well, you did just threaten to kill me not even an hour ago!” Deya hissed back. “So, who knows what you may do to me? For all I know, all that bleach you put in your hair may have addled your brains.”

“I. Do. Not,” he growled, his face so livid Deya didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. “Bleach. My. Hair.”

“You were brainwashed your whole life,” he said. “Forced to believe their dogma and their lies, punished when you questioned or disagreed. It is not loyalty you feel, Deya. It is fear.”

“I will break you,” he whispered. “You train with me, and it will be the hardest thing you have ever done. That is the Nodarian way. We break our bodies to build them back stronger. I will break you.”

“It must not have been easy,” she said. “To lose your childhood to tragedy and adulthood to prison.”

He had to give her credit: she always got up. But he’d never tell her that.

He wanted Deya to fight. Wanted her to improve. Wanted this broken girl to push back . . . Wanted to know something broken could be mended. That something weak could become stronger.

“We may be out of Ironbalt, but you and I are both far from being free of what imprisons us.”

“If you fight, you will become stronger. From your ashes, you will become steel.”

“Revenge is always a heavy motivator,” he said, and nodded to her. “We will make Praiton pay.”

“Threatening harm to someone I care about is what they considered my weakness. And you exploited it the same way they did.”

“Why have you not revealed yourself, yet?” Saros continued curiously. “You could turn the tide of this war. Could avenge all you have lost. So why have you remained hidden all this time?”

“When you said they used people you care about against you . . . Does that mean I am someone you care about?”

“Fuck it,” he muttered, and then his lips were slamming into hers.

“Didn’t think the Prince of Nodaria would be beaten by some laces,” she breathed against his mouth, and to her surprise, she felt him smile against her lips. “Trust me, those won’t stop me,”

“Don’t you fucking dare. Have you not learned yet that you don’t have to hide from me?”

“My body doesn’t know sensations anymore,” she whispered. “It has a hard time . . . deciphering what to feel. It’s like it was filed down . . . made into something only designed for survival. Pleasure can feel like panic. Nerves can feel like the end of the world. Sometimes, it takes me a moment to untangle them.”

Gods, he had never been more conflicted in his life. Here they were, on the cusp of starting a war on a whole kingdom, and all he wanted was to fuck this girl silly until he couldn’t think anymore.

“You deserve happiness, child,” she said softly. “Do not try to sabotage what is right in front of you.”

“How I feel for you,” she said, her voice shaking, “has nothing to do with a prophecy, Caelum. I am sure of it.” Caelum stared at her, breathing hard. “Well, I’m not.”

But he couldn’t tell her what she wanted to hear; couldn’t tell her he was wrong. And with a sad laugh, she turned from him, and stepped right into the portal.

Deya gave a soft laugh. How funny it was that, only when she had Praiton on their knees in front of her, did they try to prey on her loyalty. How funny that, when she looked deep within herself, felt in her heart for the love she had once felt for Praiton, for the honor and loyalty . . . there was nothing left. Only ashes.

“Your love for each other and the consummation of that love made the prophecy, not the other way around. Your fear of this has absolutely nothing to do with these prophecies, and everything to do with you.”

The feeling of foreboding had only grown stronger as she watched the blade turn an iridescent purple. As if something malicious had slotted into place, like a tile waiting to fall.