Dilys cast a concerned glance at his mother. Now he understood the weary sense of frailty about her. She had loved Fyerin as deeply as Dilys. Everyone had loved him. Fyerin was the sort of Calbernan who drew people’s affection as surely as a blossom drew honeybees. Ari was much the same way. Full of laughter and courage, brimming with loyalty, daring, joy, a truly vibrant spirit.
“And Nemuan’s sure it was the Shark?”
“He’s sure. He found Fyerin’s body in the hold of the ship.”
Dilys sucked in a breath and quickly veiled his gaze to hide the telltale flare of golden fire as emotion-fed power bled into his eyes. The Shark was careful not to leave behind witnesses to his crimes—that was one of the reasons he hadn’t yet been hunted down and stopped—but he clearly wanted credit for his kills as well. The captain of every ship he sank was found locked in the hold of his sunken ship, gutted like a fish, tongue and eyes missing, forehead branded with the symbol of a shark. The horrifying consensus of those who had examined the Shark’s victims was that they’d been alive for the process. The thought of Fyerin dying such a death made Dilys’s battle fangs descend and his claws spring out from the backs of his nail beds, the sharp points biting into the palms of his hands as he curled his fingers into fists.
He shoved the pain down and chained it with cords of adamantine steel. Loss hurt, but as the commander of Calberna’s First Fleet, his task now was not to mourn, but to prevent further losses.
“Sir.” Dilys turned to the admiral of the Calbernan Navy. “Until we bring these murderouskrillosto justice, I suggest we reroute all nonessential Denbe Ocean trade around Cape Stag or through the Straits of Kardouhm.” That would cost Calberna a pretty penny. Circling around the Ardullan continent by way of Cape Stag would add weeks or even months to most voyages, and while the Straits of Kardouhm provided a shorter route from Calberna to the Denbe Ocean and all the rich markets of the east, the Omar of Kardouhm charged a high tax on every vessel sailing through his waters.
The admiral nodded. “The Council approved that measure not ten minutes ago, Commander. I’ve also sent word that every merchant ship sailing within a hundred miles of the Olemas Ocean should have a military escort. Two battle galleys to every merchant. Half a dozen to guard every convoy.”
“I will, of course, cancel the upcoming voyage to Wintercraig,” Dilys said.
“Ono.” No. The sharp denial came from Calberna’s queen. “You will do no such thing.”
“Alys...” Calivan’s use of his sister’s pet name told Dilys that this was an argument they’d been having for a while. He never called theMyerial“Alys” in front of members of the court unless she was out-stubborning him.
“Ono, Calivan. And I mean it. There are more than enough young men in our navy to deal with these pirates. Dilys and every Calbernan who has earned the right to seek a wife from among the women of the Æsir Isles will sail to Wintercraig next week, as planned.”
“He should at least know he has the opportunity to wed animlaniand keep the bloodline pure.” This came from Dessandra Merimynos, distant cousin of the late queen and current Matriarch of House Merimynos.
Alysaldria pressed her lips tight, and her golden eyes flashed with irritation.
Dilys glanced around at the high-ranking officials assembled in the room and realized that the pirate attack and Fyerin’s death weren’t the real reason he’d been summoned here. “Whatimlani? What are you talking about?”
Calberna’s acting Minister of Internal Affairs stepped forward. “Loto Sami was aboard theSpindrift.As you may know, he was betrothed to Nyree Calagi’s daughter, Coralee.”
“They want you to marry Coralee Calagi,” Alysaldria interjected.
“It’s in the best interest of Calberna to keep the royal bloodline pure,” the minister said.
“It’s not in my son’s best interest,” she snapped. “It’s not in House Merimydion’s best interest. Coralee is fifteen years old! Even if the betrothal contract could be dissolved, my son would have to wait at least another five years to wed her—who knows how long it would be before she could bear a child—let alone a daughter—if her grief for Loto makes her unable to claim her mate as she should?”
“Alys...” Calivan murmured.
She glared at him, her great golden eyes flashing with irritation. “Don’t take their side, Cal. You know my feelings on this matter. Dilys has waited long enough—at your insistence, no less! And theirs!” She jabbed an accusatory finger in the direction of the other matriarchs.
“I don’t understand,” Dilys interjected, hoping to calm his mother’s temper. “The betrothal contract between House Sami and House Calagi was signed in blood and salt. It is inviolable. I couldn’t marry Coralee even if I wanted to.”
The Slaughter had robbed Calberna of the magic of the Sirens, a loss that had not only weakened Calberna’s might but also resulted in a dangerous drop in birthrate ofimlanifemales, especially truly gifted ones. That was the reason families like House Merimydion and all the other royal Houses had standing betrothal contracts negotiated decades, even centuries, before the birth of a purebloodimlanidaughter. The had been meticulously cultivating the royal bloodlines to pool the greatest magics of Calberna into their female offspring in an attempt to bring back the long-lost power of the Sirens.
“So we have all believed,” the minister replied. “But the high priest has been researching the subject for months.” The minister gestured to the High Priest of Numahao, standing beside him. “It was, in fact, your justification for breaking the contract with the Summer King last winter that gave him the idea.”
The high priest nodded. “When you broke the contract with the Summer King to save Calberna and Mystral from the threat of the Ice King,” the priest said, “that got me wondering if a betrothal contract had ever been dissolved for similar reasons. I had to go back nearly to the time of the Slaughter, but there is precedence for dissolving a betrothal contract if, by doing so, such a dissolution will prevent harm to the line ofMyerials.House Sami has already agreed to step aside in the best interests of Calberna.” He bowed in the direction of the Matriarch of House Sami.
Alysaldria gripped the arms of her throne and said, “I will confer with my son and the Lord Chancellor in private.”
The assembled personages bowed and exited the throne room.
“You know this is a good offer, Alys,” Calivan said when the doors closed behind them. “Animlanibride from a royal bloodline? It’s the finest marriage Dilys could hope for.”
“It would have been, had the betrothal taken place while Dilys and Coralee were still children. They would have had time to form the emotional ties necessary for a proper claiming. But Coralee has had fifteen years to bond to Loto. You saw them together, same as I did. Their ties were strong and deep. Her grief will be, too.”
“And we will all be here to help her overcome that grief. You sell Dilys short, Alys. If he stays here in Calberna for the next five years, and spends that time with Coralee, I have no doubt he can win her heart as fully and completely as Loto Sami ever did. He is your son, after all. His gifts are many and great.”
“Dilys could charm gold from a dragon. That’s beside the point.”
