“Tey,you will.” She shook her head. “I will allow no further delay. You will travel to the winter lands and you will bring back a daughter for me to love, a daughter to mother my grandchildren. I will hold your child in my arms.”
And suddenly her decision to Speak from the Sea Throne made perfect sense. No wonder she had sworn an unbreakable vow to give her life to make his daughter strong. No wonder she’d commanded him to sail tomorrow to Wintercraig and claim his wife. She’d known she was beginning to Fade.
“Then I will stay, Alys,” Calivan said, reaching down to stroke his sister’s hair.
She grasped his wrist and shook her head again. “Ono.You and I have already discussed this. There is no one I trust more to protect my son’s back amongst theoulanithan you.”
“Nima—”
“Alys—”
Dilys and Calivan protested in unison, but Alysaldria would not be swayed.
“Ono.Dilys, you will go tomorrow, as planned—withyour uncle and with no more fighting between you. You will court this Season your uncle and the Council have chosen for you and you will win her love. Then you will bring her home to Calberna and give her children to bring you both as much joy and pride as you have brought me. That is what will make me happy. That is what I need from you.”
“Nima.” His throat was so tight his voice came out hoarse. He took her hand, pressed his lips to her palm. “As you require, so I shall provide,moa nima.”
The sun was still low on the eastern horizon the next morning as Dilys headed to the palace docks, where a glossy blue canal boat was waiting to take him to his ship. He and his Uncle Calivan had shamelessly browbeat his mother last night until she had agreed to let her twin stay with her until she was stronger. Dilys would go on ahead, to begin his courtship of the Seasons, and Calivan would join him in a month or so, once Alysaldria had regained a measure of her strength.
As Dilys reached the perimeter of the palace gardens, a Calbernan stepped out from behind one of the manicured hedges.
“So, you’re off to claim youroulani.”
Dilys’s body tensed. His mood—already troubled—grew darker, and he turned slowly to face his cousin Nemuan, the son of the previousMyerial.
Tattoos covered Nemuan’s body from neck to toe, with hardly an inch of unadorned bronze skin showing anywhere between, but unlike most Calbernans, whose tattoos were inked with the iridescent blue created from royal anemone, mother of pearl, and crushed silverfish scales, half of Nemuan’s markings had been drawn in matte-black squid ink. Records of all the years he’d spent on the seas, not seeking gold and glory, but absolution and revenge for the loss of his sister, Sianna, and his mother, theMyerialSiavaluana.
Only two years older than Dilys, Nemuan had been a boy of eleven when the accident had claimed the lives of Sianna and Nyamialine, and ultimately Siavaluana as well. Too young to seek his own death for his family’s honor, but not too young to go to sea. For ten years, he’d sold his sword without profit, facing battle after battle, mission after mission, to prove his strength, his skill, his command of sea and the ships that sailed it. To free himself from the stain of his family’s failure to protect its women. Only after those years had he turned his mind to gold and glory, his desire towards earning alianaof his own. Unfortunately for Nemuan, those years of rage and fury had left their mark on more than just his skin. Though he had amassed gold and glory enough for alianaof his own, he had yet to win one.
He was waiting, he said, for alianaworthy of the son of aMyerial.And just like his cronies in the Pureblood Alliance, Nemuan made it clear he thought Dilys should do the same.
“Nemuan,” Dilys greeted his cousin without enthusiasm. “I thought you were still at sea.”
His cousin smiled, but no humor lightened the flat, dark gold of his eyes. “And miss the day aMyerial’s son sails off to fetch anoulanibride?”
Dilys’s lips tightened. “What’s done is done, cousin,” he said. “No amount of sacrifice will ever bring your mother, Sianna, or Nyamialine back to us. It is time for you to set aside your fury and your grief. Claim alianaof your own to give you children. Seek what happiness this life yet holds for you.”
“I do not forget so easily as you,” Nemuan spat.
Dilys’s lips tightened. “I forget nothing. But I cannot change what is, only what will be. And I choose life, for me and the children mylianawill bear me.”
“AMyerieluaworthy of the name would say it was better to see House Merimydion die than sully Calberna’s royal line withoulaniblood. In Numahao’s name, Merimydion, act like the Prince of the Isles you’re supposed to be, not some spineless, self-serving weakling without the will to do what’s right.”
Dilys’s eyes narrowed. The points of his battle claws pressed against his fingertips, wanting out. “Careful, Merimynos.”
“You were given the chance to choose what was best for Calberna—to keep the bloodline of the Sirens pure. And you turned your nose up at it.”
“I was offered the chance to wait five years before wedding a girl grieving for her lost love. I chose instead to seek a powerful daughter for House Merimydion, a daughter for mynimato love, one whose heart is not drowning in grief.”
“A choice that’s good for you and no one else.”
“TheMyerialdoes not agree.”
“TheMyerialis—”
“Mua!” Silence! Dilys’s hand slashed through the air. His expression went hard as stone. “Your insults to me, I can let pass, but do not speak words about my mother that I will be forced to make you regret.”
Nemuan’s lips curled. “As if you could.”
