THE FIRST SCROLL: VISIONS
CHAPTER ONE
TRISTAN
Silver snaps covered the expanse of the dining table, their petals spilling from every one of my grandmother’s crystal vases. The stupid shining flowers were too fucking bright beneath the crackling torchlights, their glare nearly as intense as the silver armor surrounding me. The soturi of Ka Kormac lined every inch of the Grey Villa’s dining hall, their starfire steel blades at the ready. Never before had so many Korterian wolves entered our home. Never before had so many entered Bamaria either. Stationed here tonight, they were restless. The threat level was low behind our walls, and their auras reeked of boredom and disdain. It permeated the air to the point of suffocation.
And it was giving me a Godsdamned headache.
I’d planned to turn in early tonight, for once. To maybe fucking sleep for the first time in weeks. It was supposed to be quiet in Bamaria. All the parties and celebrations around Lady Arianna’s hurried consecration had ended. And at last, we’d come to the finale of events in which I’d been expected to appear.
Since the month’s start, I’d been carried in a litter behind our new High Lady in countless parades. I was shown off, like some prized fucking show horse, all while holding the hand of LadyNaria, our new Heir Apparent. The whole time I was meant to look proud and besotted as she flashed her engagement ring to the eager onlookers. The ring my grandmother had chosen. I’d worn dozens of new robes the past few weeks, all afforded to me by the unfreezing of my accounts. And I’d shaken hundreds of hands as blessings and shouts oftovayah maischawere thrown at me. For weeks, I’d pretended I was happy, smiling blandly as the Bamarians applauded the beautiful couple. And I became an expert at keeping a sparkle in my eyes as they demanded we kiss. Which we did—every single time.
I stared down at my own hand, at the golden band that now adorned my ring finger, a ring with the sigil of Ka Batavia engraved in its center—a full moon above golden seraphim wings. It was a ring I’d thought of wearing for two years. Only I’d imagined Lyriana would be the one to slide it on my finger. Not Naria.
At least now it was done. Arianna was Arkasva Batavia, High Lady of Bamaria. The other visiting Arkasvim had left, retreating home to their own countries and affairs. The northern Imperator, father to the forsworn bastard, had rushed back to Glemaria immediately. I’d held my breath as the rest of them left.
All except for Imperator Kormac.
The southern Imperator remained, despite the shocking news of his nephew’s sudden death back home. Brockton Kormac, an apprentice in our Soturion Academy, had been the son of the Imperator’s brother, Korteria’s Arkturion, the man known as the Bastardmaker.
And instead of comforting his family and Ka, going into mourning, or even attending the memorial held in Brockton’s honor, the Imperator had chosen to extend his stay here. Tonight, he’d come unannounced to the Villa, demanding an audience with Bamaria’s newly appointed Second, and Master of the Horse. My grandmother.
The title was laughably ridiculous. The old woman had never touched an animal in her life, much less a horse. But that didn’t appear to be a requirement for the position. And so, when the Imperator’s call came, my grandmother invited His Highness and all of his men inside without hesitation. As if I hadn’t been tortured enough.
“More wine?” A servant who’d snuck up behind me was already pouring the red into my glass before I could refuse.
“Here,” my grandmother demanded.
The servant scurried as she snapped her fingers. Beside her, my grandfather, Lord Trajan, polished off his cup in anticipation of a refill.
I glared at the freshly poured drink, having no desire for it, but with an unmistakably pointed cough from my grandmother, I picked up my glass, and took a sip. The wine was dry. Just as she liked it.
Everything wasalwaysas she liked it.
“You will not mind my saying,” drawled the Imperator, “but you can understand the reasons I may doubt your abilities to … shall we say,seal the deal, Lord Tristan?” His blond hair was slicked back, his dark eyes raking me up and down from across the table. Pressing his elbows into the silver tablecloth, he leaned forward, his aura like a rough brush against my skin.
I resisted the urge to clench my fists in my lap, forcing myself instead to take another sip of wine.
Swallowing, I said, “I am not sure I know what you mean, Your Highness. There was no ‘deal’ to be ‘sealed’ as you say. But if I understand what you’re insinuating …” I shook my head, almost in disbelief. Were we truly having this conversation? Tonight? In public? “Lady Lyriana was young when our courtship began.”
Another cough from my grandmother echoed through the dining hall, before she took a sip of her wine, nodding at the Imperator.
His eyebrows furrowed. “I know it is crass to speak of such things, particularly before one so esteemed as Lady Romula, but I’ve heard rumors. Rumors that in two years of this,” his lips turned up, “courtship, you two neverconsummatedit. And correct me if I am wrong, but Lady Lyriana has not beenyoungfor some time.”
My fingers were just inches from the silver scabbard encasing my stave. One move and I could have it in my hands, my magic pointed at him. In seconds, he’d be on his back and at my mercy.
But his wolves would have me at theirs.
Auriel’s fucking bane. I hadn’t expected to be hounded tonight by His Highness. And about my sex life of all topics—or lack thereof. But I lifted my chin, letting my disdain drip through every word I spoke. “Even so, I thought only marriages were consummated.”
“A technicality.” The Imperator laughed. “One my son will be sure to accomplish immediately with the lady.”
I bit back a snarl.
“Once she is found, of course,” he added. “And, trust me, she will be found and brought back to me. It’s only a matter of time.”
“Your Highness,” my grandmother interrupted, “Ka Grey considers itself a beacon of morals for this country. Perhaps we are a touch old-fashioned.” She pressed her lips together, the same exact shade as her wine. “However, my grandson knew Harren’s Seat was unstable long before he himself admitted it. Tristan was never going to risk a permanent alliance with someone unlikely to secure the future of our Ka in Bamaria. It is the same reason he was never permitted to offer a ring.” She lifted her glass to the Imperator. “In any case, all is well. The rightful Arkasva has her Seat, the ancient bloodline restored. Lady Lyriana is in her appropriate station and should feel fortunate that your Ka has welcomedher. I imagine Tristan’snobilitywhile courting the lady, may now be to your own Heir Apparent’s favor,” she teased.
