The Broken Kingdoms of Osvolta: Don't miss the new must-read fantasy romance obsession! (The Kingdoms of Osvolta Book 1) by Rebecca Bretherton

Author:Rebecca Bretherton [Bretherton, Rebecca]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: anonymous
Published: 2024-10-22T00:00:00+00:00

Dressed in matching cloaks to disguise their faces, Solveig led Emmerich out of the castle. They wandered down the hill to the higher city, past Lord Wautin’s now boarded up home, and through the gates to the other side of The Wall. In the middle of the afternoon, there were few mourners allowing them a small degree of privacy.

“What is this?” Emmerich asked as they walked the length of the wall, taking in the endless list of names, from the freshly carved to the weather worn barely legible ones.

“This is The Wall.” Solveig said. “It’s the memorial for the dead amongst the common folk. They can’t afford burial chambers and remembrance stones, so instead, the names of their loved ones are carved into this wall to allow them somewhere to mourn their dead.”

They stopped in front of the most recently carved names. “They’re organised by year,” Solveig whispered. “Do you see anything missing?”

Emmerich studied the names, tracing them back. None of them stood out to him until he realised that at least two should have. Renit Teria’s parents weren’t on the list.

“Why aren’t Renit’s parents here?”

“Because I executed them. I condemned them, Torrelinian law states that no criminal is allowed a public memorial. Not one of my executions at Luxenal is on this wall. I ripped families apart in my parent’s name, stole loved ones, and in doing so I stole their right to remember them too. One of those names should be Connall Kano. He was my last kill at Luxenal, before—” she hesitated.

“Before you freed Malik?” Emmerich finished, and Solveig nodded. “Why is he important to you now?”

“Because tomorrow I’ll be killing his son.” She gasped, fighting back the tears that fought to resurface at the reality of her situation. “I’ll be taking away another member of that family, condemning them to be forgotten by history, and—”

“And?” Emmerich whispered. Stepping closer, he placed two fingers under Solveig’s chin, raising her face to meet his gaze. She almost collapsed at the kindness in his eyes, the openness, how he refused to shy away from the horror of who she was. He stood there and listened, and he didn’t hate her for it.

“And I’m not sure he’s even guilty.”

Emmerich launched forward, encasing her in his arms, protecting her from view. To the outside world, they appeared as two ordinary mourners; he hid the truth, the horror.

“Then help me.” He whispered after a moment, “Help me, help you.”

“There’s no time.”

“This isn’t you,” he implored, stepping back, holding her at an arms' length, forcing her to look at him. “Don’t give up. We can still stop this.”

“No, we can’t.” Dread filled Solveig’s stomach. “If it’s not him, there will be someone else, and another after that, there always is until they get what they want. I have to accept my fate at some point.”

“Where is Ezekiel’s library?”

“I can’t,” she pleaded. Her neck arching as she gazed at the cloud drenched sky where rain threatened to fall and soak them, like the blood that drenched her black soul.

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