The Promised Queen (Forgotten Empires #3)- Jeffe Kennedy Page 0,89

bits—sorry—than about where the throne was and how many people the room could hold.”

“Only two bits came off,” I corrected, producing a smile to cover the shudder of remembered horror. I didn’t see a model of the wizards’ workrooms where I’d been experimented upon. Though I didn’t particularly want to envision them, I asked Con if he needed those, too.

“No,” he replied immediately. “There’s no reason for us to need to go there again.”

“I thought you were constructing every part of the citadel that you can,” I pointed out, needling him to determine the boundaries of the lie.

“Not those. Still, if you don’t want to think about the throne room, we—”

“Stop.” I said it softly but looked up at him so he’d see the resolve in my face—and thus I glimpsed the relief in his. He wanted this more than he was saying. Ejarat take me, he better not be thinking about going after Anure still. But I’d give him the rope. If he hung himself with it, so be it. “Let’s do this. It will be therapeutic,” I said to Sondra, and she gave me a crookedly halfhearted smile. I examined what she’d done so far, and found it not at all close. “Fortunately—for this project if not for my peace of mind—I have a crystal-clear memory of that room.”

Con’s hand twitched on my back, and a sound like a low growl rose from deep inside him. “Lia, if—”

“Go supervise someone else,” I said, not happy with him. He grunted but moved away, going to Percy and Agatha who were arguing over some point.

Turning my attention to what Sondra had started, I curled my fingers and adjusted the proportions of the room, allowing my memories to build in the details. The orchid ring assisted, lending its magic to focus the extension of my thoughts, much as it had done with repairing Calanthe. I detailed Anure’s towering throne, trying to re-create its illusion of intimidating height while maintaining the correct dimensions. I even added the treasure hoard to the steps, and the figures of the wizards, arranged as they had been that day.

That was where I’d stood, where they’d brought out the block to lay my hand on, to sever first my finger, then my hand. Phantom pain throbbed in my wrist, and the orchid responded, soothing me. It helped to see my hand at the end of my arm, fully restored and myself still in possession of the ring. They’d done their worst to me, and I’d survived them. In a way, it helped to revisit that space, those dark memories. Con had once told me that if you spoke about nightmares aloud, the visions lost their haunting power. This seemed much the same.

When I finished, Sondra whistled low. “That’s amazing. It’s perfect—as far as I can tell.”

“Seared into My brain, apparently,” I replied drily, looking over what she’d been working on: an exact replica of the rooms we’d been kept in.

“Agatha thinks the odds are good that the royal captives are kept in similar rooms and towers,” Sondra explained. “They were before, and it makes sense that the citadel staff would’ve classified us as the same sort of prisoner. Any adjustments?”

“No.” So odd to see those walls that had contained us all those days, if only in miniature. “It looks exactly right to Me. I’m impressed.”

She shrugged that off, seeming slightly embarrassed at the praise. “I had a lot of time to stare at those walls while You slept.”

“I’m very sorry for that.”

She frowned. “For what, that You slept? I was glad of it. At least then I could see You. Now, when they would take You away…” She shook her head. “You think you’ve gone through the worst things possible, and then something new happens.”

“Are you going back?” I asked softly, so Con wouldn’t hear. He was participating in his own argument now, with Ambrose and Agatha, while Brenda and Percy had their heads together with Kara on something to do with the citadel walls.

“Not even a question,” Sondra replied with a frown. “Where Conrí goes, I go.”

“You could stay here. You’d be welcome.”

“It would make me crazy to stay behind, kicking my heels,” she answered with a wry grimace. I managed to conceal my wince that I would be doing exactly that. “Besides—if that is our Rhéiane there, she was my future queen. And, well, she was my friend. My first and best friend. That’s something special, you know? I owe it to her—oh shit, Lia,