“Oh, now, that was well done,” Kieran snapped as the door closed behind them. “Insult the Feyreisa’s mother, terrorize her, and turn the whole family against us!”
Gaelen curled his lip. “What was I supposed to do? Follow your example and just stand there while that woman shamed the Feyreisa and made her weep?”
“‘My name is Gaelen vel Serranis,’” Kieran mimicked, then scowled. “Why didn’t you just shout it to the entire neighborhood? Tairen’s scorching fire!”
“She asked me who I was. I answered. Or do you suggest I should have lied?”
“Stop it, both of you,” Ellysetta snapped. She speared Gaelen with a stern look. “Kieran is right. Marissya and Dax made it very clear the Fey can’t afford any more notoriety at the moment. You no longer live outside Fey law. If you wish to serve me, as you have bloodsworn yourself to do, you must do so with honor. And that doesnotinclude introducing yourself by name to people like my mother in order to terrify them into submission.”
“Kem’falla—” Gaelen protested.
“Don’t bother to deny it,” she snapped. Irritation was better than tears. Anger bred strength, and strength was what she needed. “I know why you did it, and you should be ashamed. Whether you like her or not, she is my mother and deserving of your respect.”
Kieran smirked at Gaelen until a sharp glance from Ellysetta wiped his face clean. “And as for you, Gaelen is your uncle, your mother’s beloved brother. He’s your family. Learn to get along with him. You don’t have to like him, but you might want to consider the fact that he’s walked the earth more than twice as long as either of your parents, and he’s spent the last thousand years battling the enemies of the Fey. He’s probably forgotten more Feyskills than you’ve ever learned. Try giving him a little respect, and maybe you’ll get a little back.
“The same goes for the rest of you,” she added, expanding her glance to encompass all her quintet. “I’m sure there are skills Gaelen could teach us all, and we would be fools not to learn them.”
Gaelen looked shocked. All her quintet looked shocked. The mouse had roared like a tairen, and none of them knew what to make of it. Ellysetta squared her shoulders. They claimed she was their queen. It was time for her to start acting the part.
“I can’t go back. That means I must go forward, and considering where forward is taking me, I’ll need all the help and skills I can muster. So instead of battling among one another, why don’t you fine warriors of the Fey put your energies towards something constructive—like coming up with a plan to get me through today’s Bride’s Blessing and wedding ceremonies alive.”
Long after Ellie’s departure, Lauriana was still sitting in her room weeping and praying for guidance, but the Bright Lord had remained stubbornly silent. Sol had come up earlier to try to convince her that all would be well, but she sent him away. How could all be well when her eldest child was rushing headlong down the same perilous and evil-shrouded path of magic Lauriana had strived so long to save her from? With the Dark Lord at her side, no less!
She held Father Nivane’s pendant in the palm of her hand. The amber crystal gleamed in the light shining in from the window. Perhaps, she thought, the Bright Lord was not answering her pleas now because he’d already done all his talking, through the counsel of his servants.
Greatfather Tivrest and Father Bellamy had offered her a solution, a way to save Ellysetta’s soul, even if Lauriana could not keep her here in Celieria, away from magic. She didn’t even haveto act. She had only to accept their offer by keeping this golden charm Father Bellamy had given her.
Giving a last, shuddering breath, Lauriana made her decision. She rose to her feet, tucked the pendant back into her bodice, then sat down to pen a brief note to Sol, which she placed under her pillow for him to find if today did not go as planned. When she was done, she headed downstairs to heat water for a bath. It was time to prepare for the Bride’s Blessing.
Once more garbed as the elegant Ser Vale, Annoura’s Favorite, Kolis Manza approached the chambers of Celieria’s queen. He walked unchallenged past the two guards standing sentry at her door, through the Queen’s Parlor into the adjoining bedroom, where two dozen elegantly garbed Dazzles stood talking quietly. Several of them cast long, appreciative glances his way, but he didn’t spare them a look. His eyes were only for Celieria’s small, beauteous queen.
She sat at her vanity, looking impressively regal in a gown of silver lace. Ladies-in-waiting re-pinned her hair and touched up her makeup in preparation for her attendance of the season’s last and most important meeting of the Council of Lords.
Vale sketched a deep bow and declared with seductive extravagance, “Your beauty rivals the shining brilliance of the Mother herself, My Queen.”
Annoura had known the moment Ser Vale entered the room. She’d watched him in the mirror, told herself she would be cool to him. But still her breath caught and blood rushed with sudden heat in her veins as his throaty baritone slid over her skin like warmed silk.
“So,” she declared, meeting her Favorite’s gaze in her mirror, “you’ve returned.”
“I know my presence displeased you, My Queen,” Vale murmured, moving closer, “but I could not bear to stay away any longer. Forgive my impertinence. I brought you this small token of my devotion.” He offered a bouquet of perfect creamy white roses tied with a bloodred ribbon. “Their loveliness pales beside your own.”
She waved an impatient hand, dismissing the hovering ladies and the flock of Dazzles. “Leave us.” The attendants and courtiers curtseyed and bowed and backed out of the room to the adjoining parlor, leaving the queen and her Favorite alone, with the door open to observe propriety.
Annoura did not move from the vanity nor even turn to face him. Instead, she waited where she was, forcing him to approach her. It was a small Trump she often played, so why, when she played it with him, did she feel like the nervous ingenue to his cool majesty?
“Take them,” he whispered, holding out the roses so that their heady scent wreathed around her. “Tell me you forgive me.”
His vivid blue-green eyes had always fascinated her. They had such mesmerizing depths. Feeling dazed and light-headed, Annoura reached for the flowers. She gave a hiss as a sharp thorn tore the soft skin of her finger.
“Curse my fool valet,” Vale muttered. “He vowed he’d removed all the thorns.” He knelt beside her, tossing the bouquet aside on the vanity and lifting her injured hand for his inspection. A pearl of blood welled up on her fingertip, scarlet against the pampered white perfection of her skin. “Forgive me, My Queen.” He brought the wounded finger close to his lips, then lifted searing eyes.
Her breath caught in her throat again. Wordless, unprotesting, she let him carry her finger to his lips and shivered as his breath swirled over her skin. The warm, wet rasp of his tongue licked the tiny wound and curled around her fingertip in wicked seduction. She shuddered, eyes half closing as sensation clenched every muscle tight and heat pooled in her loins. A strange, dark lethargy consumed her, dimming her vision, leaving only heat and pleasure and darkness.
A voice, soft and compelling, whispered to her, “The Fey have betrayed you, Majesty. The Dark Lord is in their service. He is here in Celieria City at this very moment, and the Fey are hiding him from you and the king. You must order the Dark Lord bound insel’dorchains and thrown in the darkest pit of Old Castle prison. Quickly! Before it is too late.”
Kolis watched the queen’s lax, entranced expression crease in a frown as his words began to sink in. He could still scarcely believe the terrified thoughts he’d received from the Baristani woman’s charm, but he didn’t have time to investigate and couldn’t take the chance she was wrong. Vel Serranis was too dangerous a Fey to leave guarding the High Mage’s prize. He had to be removed from the equation.
The taste of Annoura’s blood was fresh on Kolis’s tongue, the first link forged between them... not as binding as a Mage Mark, but a bond nonetheless. He leaned closer, pushing with a force he’d never dared use on her before. “This proves the Fey anddahl’reisenare in collusion. They have been all along. They will destroy all that you’ve worked so hard to build. Celieria needs the Eld, to help it stand firm against the Fey. Only the Eld can help you save your throne. The Fey must be defeated. The agreement must pass.”
