Twice Blessed

by Taryn Noelle Kloeden

  It isn't that simple, Silver began.

  You have no idea what it feels like to be separated from Lonian! Laera barked. He is everything to me.

  Silver stiffened. Shame and anger battled for top position in her heart. I know what it is to lose everything.

  Do you? Laera pinned back her flopped-over ears. You lost your mate, and thousands of countrymen, I know. But your nation still stands. Your pack is together. All thanks to Rayna. I’ve been told the stories. She killed the Overlord. She ended the war. And if it weren’t for Lonian and Kellan, and the rest of my tribe, she never would've had the chance.

  Shame won the day. I know. We owe the Sylrians our lives. But what can I, or my niece, do? Our relationship with the Republic is already fraught. We won’t survive another war. I can’t risk starting one.

  Laera stopped pacing. You can’t start a war that’s already begun, Alphena.

  Silver swallowed. I know that Councilor Terayan was behind everything that happened to Rayna last year, but he’s only one man. The Kyrean Republic has made no declarations. We cannot assume that his ambitions represent the entire government’s. The words sounded weak even as she said them.

  With the Sylrians gone, the Peninsula is next. I think deep down, you know this, Alphena Silverine.

  Perhaps I do, Silver allowed. But that’s all the more reason for me to be cautious. Perhaps, with time, I can come up with something to help the Sylrians. But allowing my only remaining family to die for a lost cause? I will never accept that.

  Laera’s lip twitched. Lonian has no time. I—I can’t sense him anymore. I’m too far away. I’ve no way of knowing if he is alive or dead.

  Then you admit Rayna could be risking her life for nothing.

  Laera bristled. Rayna is my friend. I do not wish for her to be harmed, but she is also a hero. If anyone can return Lonian, Kellan, and my friends to me, I believe it is her. She is a twice-blessed seer. Dark magic cannot hurt her as it can others. If anyone can stop Terayan, it is her.

  Silver leaned forward in her chair. Laera, the pack, everyone saw Rayna as a hero. As they should—Silver could not have been prouder of her niece.

  But Rayna was not just a hero to Silver. She was the little girl whom she'd held the night Mya had been murdered. She was the young woman who had excelled as a hunter, the child whose hair she'd braided, and the closest she would ever have to a daughter.

  Rayna was a hero, but even heroes could die.

  Silver would do anything to protect her.

  I am sorry, Laera. If our positions were reversed, I would be making the same plea you are. I have sent a falcon to the Den Alphen, Regent Seperun, General Pheros of Alvorn, and the Soulousian Magistrate’s Council explaining the Sylrian plight. I don’t intend to do nothing. Seperun has agents in Halmstead that can provide information. Perhaps we could attempt a hostage negotiation. But I cannot allow Rayna to die for this cause, not if I can stop her.

  Laera turned to exit. Then I pray you cannot stop her. She left.

  Silver cradled her head in her hands. Was she making the right choice? She wanted to help the Sylrians, but could not accept that such a foolish plan was the only option. Perhaps the Kyreans could be reasoned with?

  It was a hollow hope, one that rang all too familiar. She and Bayne had been desperate to end the war with Maenor. They’d pushed forward with peace negotiations despite their concerns. Now that she knew the false treaty had been orchestrated by Terayan, in an attempt to ascertain Rayna’s seer identity and have her killed, negotiations with the Kyreans seemed as foolish an idea as Rayna’s plan.

  If diplomacy was not an available course, and direct action seemed infeasible, what else could be done?

  Silver had told Laera she did not intend to do nothing, and yet she could think of no viable strategies. She felt as paralyzed as a rabbit spotted by a fox.

  She needed time to consider other options, but Laera was right. Time was not on the Sylrians’ side. They were doomed. Silver could not let her niece be, too.

  Chapter Twelve

  Rayna walked the dark corridor on Lord Alec Swann’s arm. Behind them, Cassian escorted Mina, and Daveed walked with Katrine. Rayna recalled the countless times she'd traveled these halls with Coer. Anhorde had disgusted her then; she’d found it claustrophobic and smoky. That evening, it was still closed-in and hazy, but it did not revolt her anymore. In truth, Rayna's prison hadn't been this building. It had been Rhael’s extortion. He was gone now, and a new dawn had risen on the palace.

  They turned a corner and the hall opened into a wider vestibule, leading to a pair of sturdy doors. Rayna remembered these doors. They led to the main dining room. Markus Seperun waited beside them. He’d changed into black robes—a different look for him. Rayna had only seen him in jewel tones. The Resistance seal—a silver crown and dagger—embroidered his chest.

  As Seperun made his way down the line, greeting them all warmly, new decorations drew Rayna's eye. Dozens of frames adorned the walls. She approached them. Every picture had a shield decorated with an animal or two, and a few lines of Ancient Maenoren. They must have been the coats-of-arms for each of the Maenoren noble families. She gazed at the images, focusing on one placed near the doors. It was framed in black, with a light blue shield against a silver field. A pair of tri-colored hounds stood proudly on each side, and beneath them the were words: Fedeli ajoren.

  “Ah.” Seperun came to her side. “How fitting that this coat-of-arms would catch your eye. One of the oldest Maenoren families, but alas, as the black frame indicates, one now ended.”

  “This is Coer’s family, isn’t it?”

  “Aye, the Vantergard family crest, Rayna Hex Breaker.” He smiled, though his eyes glistened with tears. “These words here, do you know what they mean?”

  She shook her head, holding back tears of her own.

  “Faithful until the end. Like many of these black-framed families, the Vantergards were stripped of all lands and titles by the Demetrians long ago, but I thought it best to bring back their memory.”

  Mina and Katrine joined them. “It’s beautiful,” said Mina.

  “Indeed. Now, ladies,” Seperun said. “I wanted to brief you before going inside.”

  “Brief us? I thought this was a dinner,” said Katrine.

  “Yes, a state dinner. I’ve invited representatives of all Maenor’s most powerful families. Many of these families—believe it or not, actually benefited from Rhael’s tyranny. It is important that I demonstrate the new regime is on their side, lest we undergo a rebellion ourselves.”

  “A rebellion against you?” Mina frowned.

  “Against me, yes, but for Rhael as well.”

  “Rhael is dead,” Rayna said. She pushed away the memory of Rhael’s mutilated face and hot blood on her lips

  “Yes,” Seperun said, “but he has heirs.”

  “The Cult of Demetrian.” Rayna gulped. Until Seperun's earlier mention, she'd not given much thought to Rhael’s children. Rhael had told her he had seven children, borne of courtesans. He'd also told her of the horrific tradition wherein, upon their father's death, the sons would be pitted against one another to choose the next Overlord.

  “Wait.” Rayna swallowed against a dry throat. “When I killed Rhael, did the Cult…Rhael’s sons…” She had no breath to finish the thought.

  Seperun steadied her. “What happened to those boys was not your fault.”

  Rayna forced back the tears that threatened to streak her painted face. “Oh, Goddess.”

  “What? I don’t understand!” Katrine interrupted.

  Seperun provided a hurried explanation of the Cult of Demetrian. Katrine paled.

  “But,” Seperun finished, “our operatives were able to stop Rhalen, Rhael’s eldest son, from completing the ritual. He was prevented from harming his youngest brother, Kalmoren. Following the regime change, the women of the Cult—Rhael’s sisters, aunts, cousins, and former courtesans—have been overwhelmingly supportive of stopping the viol
ence. Alas, the same cannot be said for many of Rhalen’s supporters. Davin Dantes has been quite busy keeping Rhalen and his dark magic under control.”

  “Do you really think inviting us is a good idea then?” asked Rayna. She could not get the image of Rhalen—a child she pictured with Rhael’s black-and-gold eyes and mane of curling hair—out of her mind. But at least Seperun had stopped the cycle of violence. She did not want to risk igniting it further. “Fenearens aren’t exactly popular with Maenorens, and that goes doubly for me, I’m sure. My presence might embolden Demetrian supporters.”

  “On the contrary,” said Seperun, “I think including you will encourage these nobles to reevaluate their views on Fenearens. Many see your people as savages. By being here tonight, dressed as you are, participating in something like this, you will challenge that assumption.” Seperun did not give them the opportunity for further discussion. He called Swann, Daveed, and Cassian over and they each took their partner by the arm.

  Swann was almost as tall as Rayna, and it was easy for him to whisper in her ear. “Fear not, my lady. You may find more friends here tonight than you might imagine.”

  She nodded, and followed Seperun.

  The Regent rapped on the doors. A pair of guards pulled them open from within.

  At least two dozen finely dressed men and women filled the long table that had replaced the dais Rayna remembered. All the guests stood as the newcomers entered.

  “My friends, may I introduce our final additions?” Seperun stood to the side so that Rayna, Mina, and Katrine could be seen by all. “Lieutenants Libera and Junian you know, and their guests are Mignonette Tsanclar, a defector from the Kyrean Republic, and Katrine Saelia of Fenear.”

  Several cleared throats, raised eyebrows, and scoffs echoed Seperun’s words. Rayna could not tell if they were more surprised by Mina or Katrine’s identity.

  “And escorted by Lord Alec Swann of Elkenford, I'm pleased to say Rayna Myana of Fenear will also be joining us this evening.”

  At Rayna's name, the lords and ladies erupted into chatter. Some cast hostile glances her way, others pursed their lips—as if impressed.

  To Rayna's relief, Swann led her to a seat. He pulled out the high-backed chair for her before taking his own place across the table. Mina and Katrine were seated beside her. Seperun sat at the head of the table, a few seats down from them.

  Once the excitement died down, servers entered the chamber with trays of spicy-smelling soup. As Rayna prepared herself to choke down what she could of Maenoren fare, one of the servers placed a dandelion-and-berry salad before her and Katrine. Relieved, Rayna glanced at Seperun, who raised his wine goblet to her with a subtle wink.

  “Friends and guests,” Seperun began, “thank you all for being here today. I invited you to celebrate the continued rebuilding of our nation, as well as to give us an opportunity to discuss policy matters in a less formal, more open manner. But first, let us eat!”

  He punctuated his greeting with a sip of wine and everyone else followed suit. Rayna sniffed her goblet, relieved to find it filled with mulberry juice. She took a grateful drink. The clatter of utensils filled the hall as guests conversed.

  Katrine tugged Rayna's sleeve. She looked from her set of forks to her salad.

  Rayna pointedly raised the appropriate one and took a bite.

  Katrine awkwardly copied her.

  The Maenoren chefs had added a sour dressing to the leaves, but otherwise it was close enough to Fenearen food that Rayna managed to eat most of it. Unlike the dinners she'd attended with Rhael, everyone ate all or most of the food given them; nothing was wasted.

  Swann spoke nearly constantly in his lilting voice, allowing Rayna to get by with little conversation herself. Mina joined often, speaking at length with Cassian and Daveed, as well as some of the other attendees. Once the salad and soup courses were cleared, servers brought chicken stuffed with some sort of nut mixture. Rayna ate in small bites, unsure how her body would react to such rich fare.

  “You’re very quiet, Rayna,” Cassian commented from across the table.

  She swallowed, conscious of the many faces that tilted toward her.

  Cassian shot her an apologetic look.

  Rayna smiled and set down her fork. “I’m taking it all in, Lieutenant. It’s an honor to be included.” She hoped her positive, yet reserved, response would be enough for the circling vultures to lose interest.

  It was not.

  “Well of course you’ve been included,” said a woman a few seats down from Lord Swann. She was maybe forty winters old, with an attractive, but haughty face and a neck weighed down by jewels. “You were going to be our queen.”

  Rayna took a sip from her goblet to buy time to formulate her response.

  To her surprise, Daveed spoke up. “I do not think it kind to bring up what must be a painful memory for Rayna in such a casual manner, Lady Emoril.”

  Lady Emoril huffed.

  Rayna acted quickly. “I appreciate your concern, Daveed. But, I’m sure Lady Emoril meant no harm.”

  “Of course not.” Lady Emoril pressed on an unconvincing smile.

  From beside her, a young, bearded lord with a boar emblazoned on his chest laughed. “How easily you can be cowed these days, Lady Emoril. I remember the tigress having sharper claws not too long ago.”

  “Times have changed, Lord Revine. We all must change with them,” she said defensively.

  “Well put, my lady,” said Swann. “Personally, I'm pleased to welcome Rayna Myana and her companions as friends of the court.”

  “She was welcomed before, with dinners, and dancing lessons, with the finest clothing, and with what would have been the grandest ball in a century.” An elderly woman dressed in a high-necked purple gown spoke loudly as to be heard from several seats away. She turned her sharp gaze on Rayna. “And how did you repay our lord’s welcome?” She spat. “By whoring around with your guard and murdering your betrothed.”

  Silence greeted the old woman’s venomous words. Seperun cleared his throat, but Rayna did not give him the chance to speak for her.

  “My lady, I was never welcomed by Rhael—”

  “How dare you speak his name—”

  Rayna shouted over her. “Rhael never intended to marry me! I was kidnapped, my name besmirched, and I would have been killed had I not escaped. Rhael lied to me. He lied to all of you! Why defend him? Why now when everything has become so much better for you?”

  The old woman was not the only one to react negatively to Rayna’s words. Lord Revine rolled his eyes and several others within Rayna’s line-of-sight bared their teeth or scoffed.

  “Better?” Lord Revine laughed humorlessly. “Lady Sherelle brings up a valid point, Regent.”

  Seperun’s face remained calm. He made no move to interrupt.

  “You closed off all trade with the Kyrean Republic, costing us thousands! Why are we permitted to trade with these savages—one of which murdered our previous leader—but not our longtime allies?”

  “They are flesh-peddlers!” Lord Swann knocked over his goblet as he stood. “You would have us continue a trading relationship with a nation that runs its economy on the backs of slaves?”

  “I would have us continue to have profitable businesses, Swann!” Revine bit back.

  “Here, here.” Lady Sherelle sipped her wine.

  “My lords and ladies.” Seperun did not shout, but his deep voice carried around the room nonetheless. “I appreciate the economic burden the shifts in trading agreements have created. As I have repeatedly mentioned, the state will happily provide aid where needed to ensure your people and provinces do not suffer due to the decreased income. Unlike the previous regime, we have little interest in gold or luxuries, and as such, are able to finance reconstruction with vaults full of Demetrian artifacts. In time, and with increased trade between the other three Peninsular nations, our economy will stabilize. I know this course is not an easy one, but it is the right one.”

  Rayn
a met Seperun’s stare. Did he know how closely his words echoed what Bayne had so often said? Whether an intentional ode or not, his words rang true to her.

  “I will speak with my aunt,” Rayna said. “I also know both General Pheros and the Priestess. I will ensure they are fully aware of Maenor’s sacrifices. Together, the four countries will be stronger than ever.”

  The meal continued in near-silence for some time after the clash. As desert was served though, Lady Emoril seemed deep enough in her cups to start trouble again.

  “Tell me, child.” She eyed Rayna over her goblet. “Is what they say of you true?”

  Rayna moved her slice of peach tart around her plate. She did not care for sweet foods. “Can you be more specific? Evidently a lot is said about me.”

  Emoril half-smiled.

  Rayna could see why Revine had called her a tigress now. There was a predatory gleam in her heavily lined eyes.

  “Some of my men who fought in the war saw Rhael’s body. They tell me he’d been mutilated beyond recognition.” She took a dainty bite, as if she were discussing the weather. “I heard you were quite vicious. Did you really eat his heart?”

  Rayna’s hands shook. She wasn’t sure if it was anger, disgust, or something else pulsing through her.

  “Lady Emoril, is this really an appropriate time to discuss this?” Cassian asked, his face stern. “We’re eating, after all.”

  “You don’t much care about what’s appropriate do you, my lady?” Mina all but growled as she speared a peach slice.

  Lady Emoril was unfazed. “I asked a question.”

  “My lady—” Seperun began, but Rayna raised her hand to stop his interference.

  “I did not eat anyone’s heart.” Though, Rayna had considered it on more than one occasion. She cleared her throat, trying to stay calm. “I killed Rhael in battle, after he cut down my uncle and countless more of my people. I will not pretend that this act was anything but gruesome, but it was also necessary. I will not apologize.”