When she laid her hand over his, she was glad for the scarlet satin of the gloves she wore. Dorian was Fey enough to sense her thoughts and sometimes her emotions when she touched him skin-to-skin. In the past, that connection had been a special bond, something that had drawn them closer, until at times they could think and act as one. But now, such insight into her broken heart would only be an unwanted intrusion and a humiliation.
They walked stiffly towards the open doors leading to the grand stair at the front of the palace. And each step that rang out against the polished marble palace floors tolled like a death knell, echoing forlornly in the vast, cold silence of the empty palace.
Outside, the sun shone too bright for a day of such sorrow. The palace courtyard was packed with armored soldiers and cavalry horses. Brilliant blue, white, and gold banners waved in the breeze. Beyond the palace gates, the populace of Celieria City had gathered. The people gave a great roaring cheer when Dorian and Annoura stepped forth.
Dorian did not pause for speeches. He’d already given enough of those to the Council of Lords and to the populace these last days, explaining why it was necessary for the sons, husbands, and fathers of Celieria to march to war—and why even more would be accompanying Prince Dorian when he left for the coast the following week. Now, he and Annoura simply walked down the stone palace steps to their waiting mounts. The lords and ladies of the court followed and mounted their own gaily caparisoned steeds and took up silken banners. The pipers and drummers in the infantry ranks began to play, and with great celebration and pomp, Dorian, Annoura, and the court led the army north through the city to King’s Gate and the start of the North Road.
All along the roadside, from the palace to King’s Gate, the inhabitants of Celieria had come to watch their soldiers depart. They waved and cheered and threw small bouquets of flowers in the cobbled street before the procession. From second- and third-story windows lining the thoroughfare, flower petals and scented ribbons showered down.
War was such a great, lovely spectacle.
At least, Annoura thought bitterly, until its dreadful ravages arrived upon one’s own doorstep.
«Annoura…»
Behind her veils, Annoura closed her eyes as Dorian’s voice brushed against her mind. He could weave Spirit well enough to speak without words. Before now, every time he’d spun words directly into her mind, it had always seemed like a caress, an intimate secret between them, private and treasured.
Now the trust between them had been broken.
Stop it, Dorian. Get out of my mind.She couldn’t weave Spirit, but she knew he would hear her. He was there at the periphery of her mind, listening for her answer.
«I ride for war, wife. There is a possibility I will not return. I don’t want harsh words to be the last between us.»
Then perhaps you should not have spoken them. Nor dismissed me from your presence like a lackey. I will never forgive you for that.Anger bubbled up, acid and burning.
«Annoura.»
We are here at the gates.The party had arrived at the great, majestic arch on the northern side of the city. She pulled on the reins and brought her mount to a halt.Lead your men. Go to your war. Be with your friends, the Fey. They are the only ones you truly love.
He leaned across, caught her horse’s reins, and brought her up short. “Enough.” With a kick of his heels, he brought his horse alongside hers. “I would bid you farewell, wife.”
He lifted her veils before she could stop him, and his face froze at the sight of hers. She caught his wrists in a fierce grip. “Haven’t you humiliated me enough?” she hissed. “Leave me some shred of dignity.” The veils slid from his unresisting fingers and fell back into place.
“Annoura…”
Her jaw clenched and she had to force the next declaration out through a tight throat. “You…hurtme.” Her voice cracked, and she had to pause to regain her composure. “You promised me you never would, but you did.” She drew a deep breath and pulled icy calm around her like armor. “It will never happen again.” The invisible distance between them widened to a chasm.
The softness faded from Dorian’s eyes and face. “Very well, madam. Since you are determined to put your pride between us, I take my leave of you. We will speak again when I return from this war. Until then, may the gods keep you and our children safe.” With a stiff nod, he clucked to his mount, tugged the reins, and rode away. The army followed him, pipers and drummers still playing their joyous march to war.
Annoura stared blindly forward as the army of Celieria passed by. Her sheer scarlet veils fluttered around her face, casting the world in a wash of blood and catching on the damp tracks of her tears.
CHAPTERTHIRTEEN
Celieria City ~ The Royal Palace
“Your Majesty, I’ve taken the liberty of preparing a little surprise for you.” Jiarine Montevero gave Queen Annoura her most charming smile. The court had just returned from seeing the king’s army off, and most of the courtiers were partaking of a sumptuous banquet on the terrace.
“I’m very tired, Jiarine,” the queen replied, “and I’m not fond of surprises.”
“Indulge me, Your Majesty. I promise you will like this one. I thought you might desire some peace and quiet away from the court.”
The queen was still heavily veiled, so Jiarine could not see her expression, but her years of dancing attendance on Annoura had not gone to waste. The queen hesitated. “What did you have in mind?”
There was just enough curiosity in Annoura’s voice. “I’ve prepared a private meal for you in the south garden, Your Majesty.” The south garden was a walled retreat, well away from the noisier lawns and gardens frequented by the rest of the court. Its use was reserved exclusively for the royal family.
Annoura’s veiled figure went stiff. “His Majesty granted you permission to use the south garden?”
“No, ma’am,” she answered smoothly. “I didn’t ask His Majesty. I asked His Highness, the prince. He thought it was a wonderful idea.” When Annoura hesitated a moment more, she added, “I’ve arranged for your favorite food and music. I could keep you company, if you like, or you could be all alone, uninterrupted, away from the prying eyes of the court.”
