“They do,” she said, brushing her hands over her dress. “The Fates offer me direct access to their plans, albeit infrequently, unlike the Angel Seers. My magic is different.”

“Like mine,” I said.

“Like yours. Like Rokath’s, like Xannirin’s, like Rapp’s. Like all others with burgundy eyes.” Holding out her slender arm, she said, “Let’s tour the rest of the garden. There are some lovely places to prop your feet with a book or some tea.”

No one had ever offered me comfort like Kiira had. Or cared to see me like she did. Despite our earlier animosity, I found myself looping my arm through hers. We strolled along the winding, haphazard paths, some overflowing with thorny plants, others with bushes trimmed into neat shapes. As promised, several nooks awaited, with outdoor loungers, soft cushions, and spots of shade to escape the harsh sun. There, gardening tools abounded, and I approached a wall lined with them, running my hands over the finely crafted metal.

“Do you think the Kral would mind if I cared for some of his plants?” I asked Kiira.

“No, and you can refer to him as Xannirin. There’s no need to speak to any of us so formally. You’re family now,” she replied, tucking her long, loose hair behind her ears.

“But no one can know that,” I pointed out.

“Er, well, yes. For now.” A wide grin split her face. “But when the war is over, we can have a grand celebration to welcome you into House Vrak.”

I smothered the grimace at her idea. The only reason I was complying now was because Rokath needed to save us all from the Angels. After that, I wasn’t putting up with him any longer. Our deal would be done, and I’d be long gone.

Reaching for a pair of gloves and other tools, I filled a bag with everything I thought I might need, then hefted it onto my shoulder. Kiira slid by me and grabbed a pair of her own. “I will join you. It’s so nice to have another female around, even if you don’t want to be here. I know my cousins can be… difficult. Probably better than anyone.” She nudged my side as she stepped away. “That’s why we must work together to keep them on the right path.”

I shifted from foot to foot, unsure what to say. Thankfully, Kiira saved me. “Do you have an idea of where you’d like to start?”

“The roses,” I said shyly. “They are my favorite.”

“Lead the way.” She gestured for me to continue, and I wound us back toward the front, where the beautiful Bordovas waited, along with a few other varieties. From the bag, I pulled two cushions and placed them on the ground, saving our knees from the hard stone. Then, we set to work.

Silence reigned while we clipped and pruned, giving the plants room to breathe and flourish. The Bordovas fully cared for, we moved along to another variety, common to the Demon Realm, and repeated the process.

“Tell me why you don’t like the priestesses,” Kirra prodded when we moved onto the third bush. “Truly, I want to know. Like Rokath, I try to lead the faithful along a holy path, though I am not always successful. Unlike Rokath, I don’t see the majority of my troops on a regular basis.”

I sighed and clipped one long stemmed rose, then brought it to my nose and inhaled deeply. Handing it to Kiira, I said, “Priestess Anara used to hold me down while Vagach coupled with me. They both thought that her presence would fill my womb with a babe. For eight years,” I gritted my teeth against the swell of heat pricking my eyes, “I never fell pregnant. Though I didn’t want to. I didn’t want any of it. But I was trapped.”

Swallowing, I focused my attention on the next snip, trying to avoid the thorns through my blurred vision. “Before that, though, she would cane my knuckles for questioning the Fates, and thereby, her authority.” A watery laugh slipped out of me. “I was never awarded high marks because of my insolence. My sister–”

I had to pause and suck in a breath as serrated as the knife slashing across my heart at the thought of her. “My sister used to beg me to hold my tongue. But as you witnessed, that is not something I ever managed to do.”

A warm hand rested on my back, and I felt Kiira’s eyes on me. Still, I did not look at her. “Vagach didn’t let me see them after we were married. Until they were dying. My father went first. Then my mother. Then my sister. I thought she was going to pull through, but she took a turn for the worse and passed within the day.”

A tear fell onto the soil for each of them.

“Assyria,” Kiira’s voice was soft and filled with sorrow. “Look at me.”

Blinking rapidly, I did, swiping the back of my wrists over my eyes. Kiira’s burgundy ones mirrored my own, shining and reflecting my anguish back to me. “I knew Priestess Anara was strict with her flock, but her participating in Vagach’s raping you is unacceptable. For that is what happened, Assyria, and you do not need to minimize your experience. I shall send for her immediately and replace her with someone who understands that as much as females are to carry offspring for the future of our race, that it should happen willingly between both parties. I am so, deeply sorry that all of that happened to you, and I understand now your loathing for the priestesses, the Fates, and our house. My words cannot fix anything, but perhaps my actions can.”

“Thank you,” I managed to choke out.

Kiira swept away the wet tracks on her face and cleared her throat. “And what of the Vezető?”

A sob wrenched its way from my chest. “He discovered my true identity weeks before. He wanted to protect me. He died protecting me. Before Jaku walked in on us,” I paused, heat flashing to my cheeks, “on the verge of coupling, he asked me to marry him. Promised that he’d keep me safe by sending me to live with his family. That we’d be together once the war was over.”

Kiira took my hands, giving them a squeeze.

“He was kind. Thoughtful. Showed me that pleasure was possible with intimacy. I will miss him.” The last words whispered out of me, and the slash in my heart that belonged to Izgath throbbed.

A fresh wave of hot, salty liquid spilled down my cheeks, and I closed my eyes, trying to fight off more.

Kiira wiped them away with a familiar tenderness. I opened my eyes, studying the sincerity etched on her face. “How do you do it?”

A sad smile bloomed, one that didn’t reach her eyes. “I often struggle with my position as High Priestess. I am a bastard daughter of House Vrak, and although my father never sired more children, I haven’t always felt like I belonged in it. When Xannirin took the throne and Rokath the army, I was a natural choice for the third pillar of our society. To further their plans, though, I’ve had to sacrifice more than I would like. I see the necessity of it, but when I hear stories like yours, my heart aches for the ways in which we must achieve the ends.”

“I didn’t realize you were a bastard,” I murmured, sitting back on my heels and pulling off the gardening gloves. “Is that why–”

Kiira shook her head, cutting off my question. “No, the previous Kral and his brothers were extremely cruel by nature. Sadistically so, in fact. Rokath, Xannirin, and I all bear scars from them, in some way. Though their stories are not mine to tell. Your story is safe with me too, you know.”

“I feel it,” I admitted freely.

She squeezed my hands again. “Rokath cares deeply about the people he loves, though he is quite adept at hiding it. He chooses not to show his emotions like we do. I will do my best to make up for the ways in which my cousins are lacking. You don’t deserve to suffer any more than you already have.”

“Thank you,” I croaked, then cleared my throat and dried my tears.

Kiira offered me a grin that was both sincere and filled with mischief. “I want to tell you something that I managed to do that I’m quite proud of. Something I convinced my cousins to allow.”

“Oh? What was that?” I asked, unable to help myself.