Dead Moons Rising: First in the Honest Scrolls series

by Jack Whitney

  “You don’t know the rest of it, Draven, of what I am,” she continued. “You don’t know my past or my darkness.”

  “Then share it,” he said as he stepped forward again, taking her cheek in his hand. “Share your past and your darkness. I want to hear it. Let me in.”

  The anvil sitting on her chest grew stiffer, and she struggled to take a breath upon speaking. “I can’t,” she managed.

  Hurt spread through every pore on his face down to the center of his core. He avoided her gaze a moment and caressed her knuckles. “Whatever you think you can’t tell me, you’re wrong.” He brought her knuckles to his lips and he kissed them lingeringly.

  He stayed and helped her pack her bags, all the while making his usual sarcastic remarks and jokes that made her stomach flutter and her cheeks hurt with a smile. And once she was all packed, he had one of his men carry it down for her.

  Leaving this time was not like the last.

  His arms hugged around her as they stood on the porch, and for a few moments she allowed her eyes to close, her forehead to lay against his, the swim of his touch on her skin searing into her memory. She wouldn’t see him again until the next banquet.

  And then he began to hum the Wyverdraki song.

  His body started to move side to side, dancing with her, and she almost laughed.

  Her voice joined his hum, and she whispered the words softly as he entwined his fingers with hers. He spun her out a time or two, swaying with her when he would bring her back in. And when she finished up the last of it, he wrapped her into him again.

  “Who knew the Venari King was such a romantic?” she mused.

  He smiled down at her, and his nose nudged hers. “Don’t tell anyone. You’ll ruin me,” he growled.

  Her hand reached up to his face, and she allowed her eyes to memorize his features, this small moment engrained in her consciousness to last her for the next few weeks that she would have to go back to her regular duties. The press of his hand on the small of her back. The entwine of his fingers with hers, fitting together and not against. The small smile on his lips that rose to his dilated eyes.

  “I don’t even know what to say to you,” she whispered.

  He pushed her hair off her face and pressed his forehead to hers. “Just don’t ignore me when I come to Magnice in a few weeks and we’ll call it even.”

  CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE

  “I STILL DO not know for sure that is what we saw,” Ash said five days later as he stood beside Aydra in the Chamber. Rhaif’s brow raised, and he stared between the pair.

  Aydra rounded on Ash’s still figure. “Are you… you’re fucking joking, right?”

  Ash shrugged, still not looking away from Rhaif’s figure in the chair. “I do not know the tricks of the Venari and Honest. Until we see men on our own shores, I see no reason why we should concern ourselves with the southern seas. The men we fought were half-witted sportsmen at best, not any true army.”

  Her jaw clenched, and she felt the swarm of birds threatening to come inside the windows. Two crows squawked and landed on the windowsill, two more fluttering inside. The raven landed on her shoulder just as she felt her mind start to blank.

  “Drae—”

  Dorian’s voice did not heed her. Her fists tightened, and she turned full to face Ash.

  “You… you fought alongside me. Alongside Draven. Nadir. Lex. All of their men. You watched as they and their companies laid their lives on the line. Watched as they died in front of you. We held funerals for them the next day. And you think it was all a sham by the Venari?” she nearly screamed. “How, Ash? How can you think such?”

  “I never said it was a sham,” Ash argued. “I said the men were not of threat. You are blinded by your favoritism for their races,” he continued. “These men that died were simply not as good of fighters. They’d no business on the field to begin with.”

  “I held Dunthorne’s hand as his life passed into the next,” she spat shakily. “I shot the arrow that killed the one that killed him. How dare you—”

  “Calm yourself, my sister,” Rhaif called from his chair.

  Aydra realized the crows were circling over head. And she took a step back, fist clenching and unclenching at her side.

  “That is all, Ash,” Rhaif said then.

  “I cornered one of them,” Aydra said quickly.

  Everyone in the room paused, silence stilling in the room. Aydra’s weight shifted as she stared at their confused faces.

  “I cornered one of them on the beach. Asked him who they served,” she further explained.

  Rhaif’s brow raised. “And?”

  “He spoke only a few words before I sliced his throat,” she uttered, eyes darting between their scrutinizing faces. “He said ‘Long live King Aeron of Mathis, ruler of Man.’”

  Rhaif’s hands clenched over the edge of the chair. His jaw tightened, and he looked to Ash, to whom he gave a short nod. Ash bowed low at the king, and he turned on his heel without a look at Aydra’s fuming face, his cloak billowing behind him as he left the room.

  Aydra turned to Rhaif. “You cannot possibly believe him over me, believe that these people were nothing,” she argued. “I told you what he said. I watched our people die—”

  “Those were not our people, my sister,” Rhaif interjected.

  Aydra fumed. “You wait until Draven gets here for the next meeting. You will hear him tell it again, of how you ignored his pleas to have aid, of how—”

  Rhaif’s laugh vibrated the room. And he wasn’t the only one that showed amusement. The Belwarks at the back of the room and at his side chuckled under their breath. The noise of it made her core still.

  “If you think the Venari will convince me otherwise, you’re wrong, and you know this,” Rhaif smarted. “What makes you think I would listen to he any more than I listen to you or the Village captain?”

  “Because he has no reason to lie to you,” she said breathlessly. “This stupid feud has gone on long enough. Strange ships are knocking at our doors. We must put this behind us and unite against them.”

  Rhaif stood from his chair and crossed the room towards her, his hands outstretched. “My sister… You’ve had a long journey back to us. Perhaps you’d be better taking rest tonight.” He leaned in closer as though he were hugging her. “You’re embarrassing yourself,” he whispered in her ear. “Leave before I’m forced to do something I don’t want to do.”

  “Like what, brother?” she hissed. “Burn me? Go ahead. I’d like to see what the others have to say when you do it in front of them.”

  “If you think they’d be on your side… you’re wrong.”

  His words cut deep, and she was reminded of the portrait paintings of past Kings and Queens on the walls.

  An accessory to the true crown.

  Intended to be nothing more than a pretty face.

  Aydra glared at her brother as he took a step back and grinned at the others in the room. She felt the anger rising in her core, and her raven flapped its wings on her shoulder.

  “Drae.”

  Lex’s voice calmed her out of her daze. She felt her hand press to her arm, and then she met her Second’s eyes over her shoulder.

  “Come. We will take our leave,” Lex told her with a glare at Rhaif.

  Aydra locked the door to her room and put a chair under the handle that night. Her raven was in the room with her. Lex had offered to stay, but she told her not to, knowing if she did she would be in danger. Aydra wasn’t stupid. She knew after her riding out without telling him along with her arguing about the boats that day that he would want to punish her.

  But this time was different.

  She didn’t feel scared. There was a strength inside her that hadn’t been there before. A will to live beyond the scares of his fire and bruises.

  Sleep did not find her on that night. She sat up in her bed, in Draven’s shirt, covers pulled up over her, and she tried to read the translated Scrolls book Draven had given her. She’d p
acked the pipe he’d given her to calm her nerves.

  Draven would have murdered every being in the castle if he knew.

  It was the only secret she knew she could never tell him.

  The handle jiggled twice during the night, both times making her heart skip, her body jolt upright. She knew he was trying to get to her or scare her. Her raven sat at the end of the bed, awake the entire time. She knew she couldn’t stay locked in there every night, that she would have to face him in the darkness at some point. But she wanted at least one night to process everything before that happened.

  She’d tried to set herself apart over the years, make sure her fate was different from the queens of her past. The accessories. The trophies.

  Just a pretty face.

  But she wanted to be part of it. The dirty. The gruesome. No, there wasn’t much crime to deal with there, but she made sure she was trained so that if there ever was, she would be ready. It was why she did not rely on the animals as so many Promised daughters had before her. Why she learned as much as she could about archery and combat, the darkness of any creatures she might face in the Forest… It was why she pushed Nyssa to do the same.

  She knew she would have to be the best of them all.

  CHAPTER FORTY

  SHE WAS STANDING at the edge of her mother’s pool on the beach.

  Arbina was doting on her, running her hands through Aydra’s hair as Aydra pulled an arrow back on her bow.

  “Higher,” Arbina had instructed Aydra’s thirteen year old self.

  Aydra’s weight shifted. She eyed her target at the edge of the fall. Arbina’s touch on her arm made her breath catch. Her mother lifted her back elbow just slightly as the noise of splashing water sounded in her ears.

  Arbina paused and shook her head at Rhaif practicing his advances in the water. “Dear boy, stop. Your sister is working. Quiet.”

  Rhaif stopped and straightened, but didn’t speak. Aydra’s eyes narrowed through at her target, and she released her arrow. It struck the fruit they’d placed beside the waterfall on the ground. Arbina squeezed her shoulders, and she turned her head slightly at Rhaif.

  “If only you could land such an arrow,” Arbina scolded him.

  Aydra’s arms lowered, and she turned just in time to watch Rhaif scratch the back of his neck, eyes staring at the ground. “I can,” he argued.

  Arbina’s brows raised. “Really?” Her arms wrapped over her chest. “Prove it. Prove you’re ready for your marking.”

  Rhaif crossed the space between them, and Aydra handed him her bow.

  “Show her, brother,” Aydra whispered.

  Rhaif gave her a tight-lipped smile, and Aydra squeezed his hands as she placed an arrow in his palm.

  Aydra stood off to the side and crossed her fingers, hoping Rhaif’s aim would be true this time. Hoping he would finally prove to their mother that he was good enough to be given his mark and fire.

  He pulled the arrow back, and Arbina did not help or instruct him. She simply watched him struggle with the arrow, scrutinizing his form without words.

  Aydra saw the shake in her brother’s hands. She looked between her mother and Rhaif, watching her mother’s lips purse at Rhaif trying his hardest before her. Aydra slipped sideways to him and touched his arm.

  “Breathe,” she said in his ear. “Both eyes open. You can—”

  “Don’t help him.”

  Their mother’s voice cut the air. She watched Rhaif, arms crossed over her chest as she stared down her nose at him. Aydra swallowed hard and took a step back, her face reddening quickly. Rhaif’s eye caught hers, and she gave him an encouraging nod.

  The arrow tore through the air.

  It landed with a thud just above Aydra’s own, and Aydra’s heart skipped in her chest. She felt her eyes widen with glee, and she bounded to her brother, wrapping her arms around him. He grinned and hugged her, the first time that he’d actually been able to do anything properly in front of their daring mother.

  “I told you!” Aydra exclaimed as she hugged him.

  But the happiness of their moment was short-lived. For when they pulled back to look at Arbina, Aydra had hoped to see some sort of pride on her features, anything other than the scold that seemed to rest on it. However, she did not get that reprieve.

  Arbina’s jaw tightened, and she gave Rhaif a full once over, nostrils flaring in his direction.

  “Weak,” she accused with a roll of her eyes. “Again.”

  —“Drae?”

  The noise of Dorian’s voice pulled Aydra out of the daydream she’d been entranced with. A full breath entered her lungs, and she looked back from the edge of the cliff she stood on to find him coming up behind her, sword drawn and sitting lazily over his shoulder.

  “Dorian,” Aydra breathed, giving him a small smile.

  Dorian’s eyes narrowed, but he didn’t press her. “Lex told me you wished to see me. Something about… learning to fight like the strangers?”

  Aydra forced another breath into her lungs, and she nodded. “Come on. We’ll go to the stadium.”

  Rhaif didn’t touch her in the days between her arrival back at Magnice and the next Council meeting.

  Aydra tried to surround herself with her family, with teaching Nyssa more on her bow, battling Dorian with the sword. After fighting the men on the ships, she knew they would need to be even stronger than they’d been brought up to be.

  “They’re fast,” Aydra said, her sword clanking with Dorian’s. “Fumbling, but fast.”

  Dorian blocked her overhead parry. “What do you mean fumbling?”

  “I mean—” she jabbed right and he swerved. The somersault he did beneath her next slash made her brows raise. “Where did you learn that?”

  Dorian grinned. “Sometimes I practice with Lex.”

  Aydra’s lips pursed. “That sounds about right.” Their swords clashed back and forth, her pushing him back and back. “The men were also vocal,” she told him. “Could hear them coming up on you without turning.”

  Dorian blocked her again and slashed right. “I know the Hunters are, but what of the strangers?”

  Aydra almost laughed. “You’ll never have to fight the Hunters,” she told him. “Especially you. Sir best friend with the Venari King.”

  “You know, I heard a rumor,” he said, dodging her advance. “I heard you were fucking him.”

  The question caught Aydra so off-guard that Dorian knocked her sword out of her hand. He was grinning at her when she straightened. Her nostrils flared, and she picked up her sword from the ground.

  “All right, little brother. I see you.” She twirled her sword in her hand, ready for him to advance, but he simply stood there and shook his head.

  “That was a blatant dodge of my statement,” he declared.

  “What was?”

  Dorian’s eyes widened. “You like him.”

  “Okay, that’s enough parrying today.” She rolled her eyes and put her sword away. “Let’s go find your sister.”

  Dorian shook his head again as she went to wrap her arm around his shoulders. “No—” He moved in front of her, eyes wide. “Don’t dodge me. Answer my question.”

  Aydra curled her arms around her chest, fighting the smile that threatened her lips. “I’m not answering anything. Who I keep in my bed is not your concern. I dare not ask who you keep in yours.”

  The confident smirk he gave her then would have rivaled Draven’s. Aydra scoffed and shook her head.

  “Come on. We’ll—”

  “Ash’s sister,” he said then, twirling his sword as he stepped towards her. “Councilman Burdo’s wife. Councilman Engle’s son. Councilwoman Ebonrath. The Scindo twins. And Lex… but only for training, as she puts it.”

  Aydra’s mouth nearly dropped. Dorian chuckled lightly and then placed his hand on her shoulder.

  “Now that you know my list… I believe my question is a fair one.”

  Aydra crossed her arms over her chest as she dared the smile she kne
w wanted to place itself on her lips to rise. “Fuck off, Dorian,” she bantered.

  Dorian grinned. “So you really like him.”

  His arm hugged around her and he sighed arrogantly. “Who knew my beautiful, rebellious, elder would be the one to bring peace between our fighting races.”

  From that day on, Dorian made fun of her every chance he got. She knew it could have been his hanging around her so much that deterred Rhaif from harming her, and whether Dorian truly knew that was happening, she wasn’t sure.

  But Dorian clung to her, asked her to read from the Scrolls book Draven had sent, shared the herb he’d grown from his own garden, and begged her to tell him about the creatures in the forest. Some days they would go to the cliffs, and on those days they took Nyssa with them. Aydra would set up makeshift targets for her sister to practice with, helping her with her stance and confidence.

  It made her miss the days she and Rhaif had shared together like that.

  CHAPTER FORTY-ONE

  ON THE NIGHT before the next Council meeting, Aydra couldn’t sleep.

  Her stomach was in knots. She’d not had a moment to see Draven before that hour having been so consumed with duties and pre-meetings with the Nobles about the securities of their towns.

  The dress she’d chosen for that meeting was solid black, long fitted sleeves that went down over her hands, capped shoulders, and a plunging V that didn’t stop until it pointed beneath her breasts at her waist. The bottom was full and flared over her hips, a high slit on the right leg that went all the way up to her mid-thigh. The dress trailed behind her when she walked.

  “Fallen at your feet, my Queen,” Lex said as Aydra emerged from her room.

  “Maye truly knows me, I think,” Aydra said, speaking of the seamstress she favored.

  Lex fell in step with her as they walked. Aydra couldn’t stop fumbling with the ring on her finger.

  “Your fidgeting is making me nervous,” Lex said.

  “I haven’t seen him in over a month,” Aydra managed.