Two Worlds of Redemption Read online

  “You shouldn’t be doing this,” Jemin whispered and grasped her tightly around her waist where the belt had been sitting before and her gown was now loosely sliding over her stomach and back under his touch.

  “Doing what?” Maray’s senses were, for once, unable to feel the threats of her new life at court as she leaned closer into Jemin’s chiseled chest. Under his Thaotine armor shirt, the planes of his stomach were almost as defined as if she was touching his skin, but the heat was missing. She ignored whatever complaint he’d just made and pulled his shirt out of his weapons belt, ready to run her fingertips over his skin—

  “This.” His hand caught her wrist and secured it against his hip. “The Princess of Allinan shouldn’t be trying to seduce me.” His words were a murmur that told her he couldn’t possibly be meaning what he was saying.

  “I am not seducing you, Jem,” Maray objected in a whisper as she ran her lips across his cheek. Her fingers curled along his hipbone, and his rugged breath told Maray that she didn’t need to.

  She rubbed her face into his shoulder and inhaled his scent: winter and leather and salt… all scents she’d never dreamt she’d find attractive, but smelling them meant Jemin was close enough for her to breathe him. They were as beautiful to her as his angel’s face, his caramel locks, and his bright-blue eyes.

  “I am serious,” he objected in a gust of hot breath that tickled her forehead.

  Maray glanced up, finding him staring down with a burning gaze.

  “You know this is not forever.” His words were like little daggers, cutting the reminder into her heart that her mother had given her a deadline. A deadline that allowed for her and Jemin to spend time together until they’d found a suitor for Maray.

  She coiled back from Jemin and sat on the nearest chair, biting back a comment. “The selection ceremony for the handmaiden, the introduction into the state affairs, and then the ball.” She didn’t need to say more than that to bring both of them back to reality. Jemin’s eyes, still bright and blue, had lost their fiery blaze. Maray averted her gaze.

  “I am sorry, Jem.”

  “This is not your fault, Maray.” Jemin stepped closer and hesitated for a moment in front of the chair next to her before he sat and reached for her hand. “This is part of who you are. You are an Allinan princess, and you belong to Allinan. You are destined to marry one of the highest nobles in Allinan one day. Your mother made clear that she will see to that in order to secure your position should anything ever happen to her.”

  With a frown on her face, Maray let Jemin speak. He was right about everything he said, and yet, the girl from the other world—the world she’d grown up in where cars smelled and elevators were too small—rebelled inside her. “I know.” It was all she could get herself to say on that matter for now. “What about the shifter?”

  Jemin’s tense posture eased up a little at the change of topic, but the heavy layer of disappointment remained in the air between them.

  “Scott wants to involve Neelis and the pack in finding out more.” He let go of her hand and grasped the hilt of his sword at his side in an automated movement, a gesture he always showed when he was concerned about Maray’s safety—even when the danger wasn’t imminent, but looming somewhere in the distance. “But we have nothing much to go by aside your description.”

  “Dark, hooded cloak, crimson eyes.” Maray repeated what she had seen there in the crowd.

  “Pretty much everyone wears a dark, hooded cloak during this time of the year,” Jemin pointed out in a voice that was closer to soldier-Jemin than her Jemin. “But we will find that person, whoever it was… I will find him,” he corrected.

  Maray was inclined to throw her arms around him in a tight embrace for sticking around and putting up with her even when they had an expiration date. She was halfway to his chair when the door burst open unannounced and Laura marched in, distress written all over her features.

  Jemin’s grasp on her hand vanished the instant Laura was through the door, and he jumped to his feet, caramel strands bouncing out of his ponytail as he hastily straightened up.

  “Oh, please,” Laura commented with a crooked smile atop her lines of worry. “You don’t need to keep up pretenses for me. I know you two can’t keep your hormones in check.”

  Maray opened her mouth to object but decided it was one of those moments when silence was golden—golden with a crimson tint on her pale cheeks.

  “You just need to be a bit smarter about it.” Laura whirled into the room and took a seat on the edge of Maray’s bed, folded her hands in her lap, and took a deep breath that made her grey waves slide forward over her shoulders. “You’re lucky it was I who disturbed you. If the nobles get wind of this…”

  “I apologize, Laura.” Jemin inclined his head, having found his composure again, something Maray couldn’t say about herself. “It was reckless of me to be in here with the Princess alone. Her reputation, now that the public knows about her and has seen her, is as important to protect as her life.”

  Laura agreed with a tiny nod that indicated she was more concerned mother than Crown Princess. “Especially when there is no reputation yet. Maray doesn’t have a history in Allinan, neither a good nor a bad one. We’ll need to work on building an image for her.”

  “I’m right here, Mom,” Maray interjected. She was aware her ‘princess classes’ hadn’t gone exactly as Laura had planned. “I hope I am not the embarrassment you make me sound like I am.”

  Laura gave Maray a surprised glance. “Not at all, dear,” she reassured. “I’m just concerned about keeping the stability in Allinan upright. As you might remember, I left Allinan for your father. That was a huge blow to the people’s confidence in the crown, and now that they are learning about Rhia’s crimes against their realm…”

  Jemin, who had settled back into the chair beside Maray, bobbed his head almost unnoticeably. “They need a Cornay they can trust in,” he finished, picking up Laura’s thought. “They loved Rhia for her beauty and the mystery she presented, for the food she provided for the realm, and the appearance of stability. They love you, Laura, for having returned after years—”

  “Yes, I’m their homecoming queen—princess,” she corrected. “But Maray,” Laura continued, measuring her daughter’s expression, her own lapis-lazuli eyes unreadable, “you are a blank page to them. Loved already because you look just like the young Queen, and probably feared already by those who seek power in our realm exactly for that same reason.”

  Maray digested her mother’s words for a second. She had met those who weren’t seeking power but trying to destroy it. Langley and his group of misled revolutionaries… And then there was that red-eyed Yutu, the same eyes she had seen in the crowd today.

  “Mom?” She leaned forward, feeling very much like the five-year-old who Laura had read stories to long before all of this Allinan mess.

  Laura focused on Maray even more intensely, waiting for her to speak, and clasped her hands more tightly in her lap. “Yes?”

  “I think we have more than just the problem of people seeking power, or to protect—build—my image. We have Rhia in the dungeons, who won’t tell us what is really going on or what her plans are for taking over the world—besides using my blood to become the most powerful warlock ever…”

  Jemin sucked in a breath next to her, reminding her how much of a burden she had become to him—he couldn’t be everywhere at once; the dungeons, hunting for Feris, now the crimson-eyed spectator, and stick around to protect her at the same time. A sideways glance was enough to confirm he was hiding his frustration behind his curls.

  “The Yutu that attacked me in the courtyard a while ago…”

  “A Yutu did what?” Laura interrupted, fair skin flushed all of a sudden with anxiety. “It wasn’t one of Neelis’ pack, was it? I’ve been wondering if it is safe to trust them… of course they saved us down there in the dungeons—” she referred to Neelis and some of the shifters breaking them out of their cells while Ma
ray had been in Rhia’s hands, “—but…”

  “But nothing,” Maray cut her off. “They are loyal to us. They saved us.” She wouldn’t let her mother start doubting the pack masters’ loyalty when there was a real problem to tend to. “The shifter that attacked me had red eyes, and there was someone with red eyes in the crowd today.” She held her mother’s gaze. “The same red eyes.”

  “How do you know it’s a shifter? It could be a coincidence…”

  “Unless you tell me that red eyes are something common in Allinan, I will not sleep well until we know who that is.”

  Jemin’s breathing sounded a lot like dark amusement, but Maray didn’t stop to glance at him this time. She was too busy making sure she was being taken seriously. “If we do nothing, we might miss a chance to get one of Rhia’s footmen. Who knows… maybe they’re working for her.”

  The horror in Laura’s face was obvious and unconcealed by royal composure. Evidently, she hadn’t thought of that.

  “Besides,” Maray continued unimpressed, “Scott is already on it.”

  “You informed Parsin Scott?”

  Maray shook her head without intention of letting her mother blame her or anyone for trying to protect her and her family.

  “I did.” Jemin had straightened in his chair again, his bright-blue eyes directed at Maray rather than her mother. “Commander Scott already put his best men on the task.”

  “Then why are you still here?” Maray couldn’t help asking and was scolded by Jemin’s sudden pained expression. She hadn’t meant to offend him. Of course, he was there to protect her, not for pleasure… even though he was good at both—

  Maray cleared her throat and hid a blush in her hair, pulling it to the front over one shoulder.

  Laura didn’t respond right away. She was regaining her composure and, after a moment, got to her feet and turned to the window. “They are still out there cheering for their new princess, you know.” With graceful strides, Laura stepped to the side of the window and peered through the curtain. “There hasn’t been a joy and glee such as this spread across the realm in decades. Ever since the First Breach of Dimensions…” Laura’s face darkened.

  “What’s wrong, Mom?” The sudden layers of shadow on her mother’s features concerned Maray more than her regard for her image or reputation. There was more to the breach of dimensions than what she had learned so far, and it wasn’t the first time her mother had spoken ominously about how that event had changed everything.

  “We should just keep them in the dark… all of them. What good does it do them to know the truth about their Queen? They loved her for what she appeared to be.”

  Maray took a second to breathe. What had happened to their plan of telling the world about Rhia’s evil schemes and making sure the people of Allinan become their allies rather than the ones who lose trust in the Cornay family?

  “They deserve to know the truth,” Maray insisted, unsure how their conversation had gotten there. “The truth is always the better choice—”

  “Is it?” Laura eyed her pensively. “Unawareness is the kind of bliss that our kind can never afford to have.”

  Jemin shifted in his chair, making Maray wonder whether he agreed or disagreed with her mother.

  “Is that right?” Maray asked. Was Laura mocking her? “I have lived through that ‘bliss’ as you call it, and guess what.” Maray felt like sticking out her tongue at her mother, the eleven-year-old Laura had left behind, abandoned and angry. “The truth hurts, but at least now I understand. All those years… You know I hated you for all those years, and while Dad kept defending you…” Maray searched for words while Laura watched her outburst with a dignified expression. Jemin cleared his throat, obviously ready to leave the room and give them privacy to sort things out, but unable to actually do so while Maray was going through her emotions. “You abandoned me and let me believe you didn’t care, Mom.” She gazed across the room, waiting for Laura to give her some sign she understood just how deep her pain ran. “And it’s not even about you abandoning me. It’s about lying to me. I’d rather you’d told me you needed to leave to save the worlds than for you to disappear and let me think you didn’t care.” Maray was ready to scream, but she kept her voice even—and it hadn’t been the ‘princess classes’ which had helped her understand that words spoken carefully and calmly are better received, but her father, who had buffered her mother’s absence and had eased her through all of that pain. “I love you, Mom, but this isn’t just going away.”

  Laura seemed to struggle for words as she took one step toward Maray, who had gotten to her feet and was now standing by the bed, picking up her clothes to change just so she would have something to do.

  “I did it to protect you, Maray,” Laura said, and Maray felt Jemin’s eyes on her as he waited for her reaction.

  Maray knew that was exactly what it was. Her mother had given up everything to protect her family. She had kept Maray in the dark until a month or two ago about her heritage, her royal bloodline, and about Allinan, an entire parallel dimension filled with magic, intrigues, and dangerous creatures—among them her grandmother, who supposedly had opened the rift between dimensions and let demons cross into Allinan. All of it Laura had withheld from Maray so she wouldn’t end up in Rhia’s grasp.

  Maray knew she should be grateful for her mother’s sacrifice, but she couldn’t help it. She stormed into the bathroom like a twelve-year-old. Maray wished she could be more mature than this. She wished she could say she understood—and a part of her did understand, that rational part of her, which her mother frequently demanded to use when she was going through ‘princess classes’ with her—but right now, she wasn’t strong. She wasn’t sixteen-year-old, of-age Princess Maray Elise Cornay who was as selfless and dignified as her mother. She was eleven-year-old child Maray, who was crying herself to sleep at nights, bottling up her anger so she wouldn’t lash out at her father and lose him too. And as happy as Maray was that she had her mother back and there were no secrets between them, it was difficult for her to forget those dark nights when she’d believed she was alone.

  There were familiar footsteps behind her, but she didn’t turn to look into Jemin’s serious and enchanting eyes. Right now, she needed space. And space meant a hot shower to wash off all of the worries and fears. She pulled the door shut behind her and rested her head against it. Outside, her mother’s voice and Jemin’s murmur continued the conversation.

  “She will forgive you.” Jemin’s velvet tone crossed through the carved wood between them as he reassured Maray’s mother. “It’s been a lot for her. Allinan, being a princess, the target on her back…”

  There was a pause during which Maray could almost feel Jemin’s hand on her back. She slid down to the blue tiles and sat, head still leaning against the door, knees pulled to her chest, and waited.

  “She will need to learn to think like a ruler, not a savior or a saint.” Laura’s disregard for Jemin’s words and her footsteps carried across the parquet in Maray’s bedroom.

  “Maybe if you told her everything, she would be more cooperative?” Jemin suggested.

  “What are you implying?” Laura’s voice was surprisingly cold. “I know you have saved my life and my daughter’s numerous times, yet, I urge you to remember your place.”

  Maray’s heart picked up pace as she took in her mother’s tone. She liked Jemin. She approved of their relationship—at least for the time being. She wanted what was best for Maray—

  Jemin’s boots swished over the floor as he probably saluted, and his voice wasn’t a murmur but clear and soldier-like. “I apologize, Your Royal Highness. It won’t happen again.”

  The tension in Maray’s muscles didn’t ease off until she heard Laura’s footsteps disappear from the bedroom. Yet, Jemin’s voice continued almost inaudibly but as edgy as Maray had rarely heard it. “At least, not when you’re around.”

  Silence filled the space outside the bathroom door—not the comfortable sort. Maray wai
ted for a while, but Jemin neither spoke nor moved on the other side of the wood, appearing to have frozen into a statue. What did he mean ‘everything’? Hadn’t her mother told her the truth? What she had said about the First Breach of Dimensions, demons, and Rhia, was it all lies? It couldn’t be true.

  “Maray?” When Maray’s stomach had tensed into a lump of frustration, Jemin’s voice eventually penetrated the still air.

  Maray didn’t move.

  “Are you still in there?” Now there was serious concern in his previously velvet tone.

  For a second, Maray considered reacting, but then she remembered that it had been him who had pointed out to Laura that she should tell Maray ‘everything’. He knew more than he let on, too. With a swift movement, Maray pushed herself upright—her tireless workouts and fighting training paid off—and dropped the heap of ‘other world’ clothes in her hands onto a renaissance chair between the magic basin and the bathtub and switched on the flow of the shower with the snap of her fingers. She no longer needed a bracelet the way Jemin, Heck, and even her mother did. She was a warlock, and even though she didn’t have all of her magic under control, the past weeks of having Rhia in the dungeons had allowed enough spare time for her to be able to practice her basic skills—like switching on lights, water, and even tiny flames to light a candle or two when Jemin snuck into her chambers on occasion.

  “Maray, please let me in.” Jemin didn’t sound gentlemanly any longer. Anxiety had surfaced in his voice, pulling a rough texture over the satin foundation. “I want to talk to you.”