by Jack Whitney
Rhaif was pacing in front of the great doors when she arrived, and there was a sleepy Dorian coming down the adjacent hall when she turned. She paused in front of Dorian to straighten his crown and the shirt he’d obviously grabbed off the floor to put on.
She was wiping a stain off his jaw and cursing at him for not bathing properly when she suddenly felt Rhaif standing over her shoulder. Aydra tensed at his annoyed energy.
“Something you’d like to say, brother dear?” she miffed.
Rhaif’s huff hit her neck, but he didn’t have time to utter a word as Nyssa came running up behind them then.
“I’m sorry!” she exclaimed, holding her crown on her head. “I’m sorry. Willow, she—”
Aydra brushed Dorian’s shoulders and then turned to Nyssa to finish fixing her. “How long before they’re here?” she asked Rhaif.
“Minutes,” he replied.
“And have you heard how many they are bringing with them?” she asked.
Rhaif’s jaw tightened. “Thirty total.” He did a double-take at her as she finally turned and joined him at the top of the steps by his side. “Perhaps if you’d come to my study last night once I’d received word—”
“What, so you could burn me again?” she spat.
“—and not gone off galavanting with the Venari King, you would know more about the nature and number of our guests.”
Her eyes met his, and for a moment she felt the agony of his words fill her. But she pushed it to the back of her mind before it tore through the surface, and she turned and held her chin high in the air.
“I don’t know what you mean,” she affirmed.
He leaned closer, breath on her shoulder as he hissed in her ear. “You think I haven’t noticed the pair of you? Heard the pair of you? Moans and screams echoing in our halls as though you are animals?”
“Sounds like you’re jealous.”
“I am not—”
She watched as his hand clenched and unclenched just above her arm, and she could feel heat from his body against hers. His jaw tightened again, and he straightened himself up.
“You will end it,” he hissed quietly.
She almost laughed. “I will not.”
“He is using you,” Rhaif accused. “Do you not remember all the times past Venari Kings have tried to take over our kingdom? How Duarb tried to seduce our mother? The time when their Infi brothers walked our streets without restraint, raping and pillaging our kingdom and how long it took our ancestors to rid us of their filth?”
“Exaggerations of the Chronicles,” Aydra spat, the story of the night before filling her thoughts.
“You invite that kind of madness back into our walls by consorting with him. You are weak, my sister. He has manipulated and seduced you—”
“Do you two think you could put aside your bickering long enough for us to meet our guests?” Dorian interjected as he leaned around Rhaif.
The great gate opened then, and Aydra felt her weight shift. She clasped her hands in front of her and straightened her dress.
Rhaif glared sideways at her. “We’ll talk about this when they’ve left.”
“There is nothing to discuss,” she argued under her breath as the carriages came closer.
“There is,” he hissed. “There is the fact that you have betrayed your kingdom for the taste of a foreign fuck.”
“I am not discussing this with you here,” she whispered, meeting his gaze. “We have guests.”
“Guests whom you’ll surely drop the Venari for tonight and wrap your legs around their heads instead. You are playing with the safety of our kingdom by letting him into your bed. What do you think will happen when you inevitably leave him for your next conquest? Do you think he will stand by and allow our kingdom to go on without punishing it?”
“I love him.”
The words seethed from her clenched mouth in such a dark voice that she felt the birds stop chirping overhead.
Color evacuated from Rhaif’s face. She felt her nostrils flaring as her gaze blazed through his empty eyes. His stare fluttered back into reality, and then he turned straight ahead, the veins in his neck bursting to the surface. He straightened his cloak and fumbled once with the sleeves of his shirt.
“We will talk about this in two days.”
Dorian’s widened blue eyes met Aydra’s, and she swallowed hard as she felt Nyssa’s hand wrap around her own.
The noise of the horses hooves on the stone as the carriages pulled up diverted all their attentions, but Aydra couldn’t help the nagging in the back of her mind at the look on her brother’s face when she’d said it.
It sat there the entire of the time she introduced herself to the Blackhand Elders and their guests.
There were seven Blackhand Elders of the four Blackhand towns. The Elders were much like their Bedrani Council, only they did not have a King and Queen in charge, only the High Elder had the last vote on matters. There were four Blackhand towns, the largest of them being Dahrkenhill, where four of the Elders, including the High Elder, resided, followed by the towns of Monsburne, Greathill, and the Bryn.
Aydra had only met Blackhand people once in her life, and that was the last the Elders had traveled to their kingdom when she was a mere ten years old. And there were a few characteristics about them that she remembered. She remembered their beards, their all rugged mountain appearances, and lastly, their charm.
She remembered Zoria had taken two to bed with her the night they came, and Vasilis had been so furious that the burns he’d punished her with the next morning had made Zoria bedridden for a week.
So when she found herself grinning at the men and women who exited the carriages and felt her brows heighten at the mere charismatic smiles on their faces, she understood why her late mentor had risked such.
She leaned closer to her sister at one point, who was already blushing, and whispered, “Choose one.”
Nyssa did a double-take up at her sister, and Aydra watched a look grow in her eyes that she recognized in her own core.
“What happened to a queen taking multiple pleasures in her bed whenever she likes?” Nyssa asked with a raised brow.
Aydra stared at her, pride swelling in her chest. “Nyssari Eaglefyre,” she mused mockingly, wrapping her arm around her shoulders. “What have you done with my little sister?”
Nyssa chuckled under her breath as one of the men approached. He bowed to both of them, the braids in his long tawny hair falling over his shoulders when he did. He introduced himself as the Elder from the town of Monsburne, a small farming town which was closest to Magnice at the edge of the Blackhand Mountains.
Aydra couldn’t help the laughter growing inside her as the man spoke with her sister. She shook her head as she looked around, the Elders and their company chatting with her siblings and their own Belwark guard.
“We’ve a great breakfast prepared in our dining hall,” Rhaif told them after a few minutes. “Please if you’ll join us. I’m sure you’re tired after your long journey.”
One of the gruff men Aydra had heard bellow a loud laugh earlier pushed past Rhaif up the stairs. “Which way?” he asked.
Aydra bit her lips together, denying the laughter that threatened to emit from her.
“You’ll excuse Dag,” came the voice of the High Elder behind her at the bottom of the steps. “He’s new to the Elder guard. Never been one to turn down food.”
Aydra turned full towards the man as he stepped up to her, and she took in his figure deliberately. The sides of his head were shaved, leaving only his straight darkened mahogany hair in the middle to be braided down the middle of his head. He was only a couple of inches taller than her with strong shoulders that struggled against the black v-neck tunic he wore.
“I make no judgements,” she assured him. “At least his appetite is healthy.”
The handsome Elder chuckled, one stray short hair falling out of the braid and over his eye. “That it is.” He took her hand then and kissed the top of it.
“Hagen Vairgrey, High Elder of the Blackhands, at your service.”
Aydra eyed the Blackhand’s light brown eyes as his long red beard brushed her hand. “I’ll have none of that, Elder. The days you are here are not about services. They are about celebrating the Echelon coming together for the first time in this Age. Repairing relationships we’ve long squandered.”
His full lips twisted into a smirk, thick brows raising on his forehead. “Tell me, Sun Queen, how is it we will be celebrating such a relationship?” he asked in a gruff voice.
She felt her lips press together at the sultry gaze he stared at her with. “Dancing,” she replied simply. “I’ve been told your brethren are quite fond of it.”
The Blackhand flashed her a wide grin. “You should visit Dahrkenhill for such a celebration,” he mused, holding out an arm for her to take. “Dancing. Ale. Herb. None of these fancy dresses and uptight decorations. Simply a gathering of our family. Celebrating life, love, and freedom as we should.”
Aydra tucked her arm into his. “Sounds like my kind of party.”
The noise of Lex clearing her throat behind her diverted Aydra’s attention from the Blackhand on her arm. Aydra did a double-take at her friend, who nodded silently towards the corner. Aydra excused herself from Hagen and darted to the corner with her Second.
“What is it? What’s wrong?” Aydra asked in a hushed voice.
Lex’s gaze darted around the thinning throng of foreigners near them and then back to Aydra. “The Chronicles are lies.”
Aydra frowned. “Excuse me?”
“The Chronicles failed to mention that I would be questioning my entire sexual history upon meeting these Blackhand men.”
Aydra clapped her hand over her mouth at an instant, unable to hold back the laughter emitting from her throat. “Hilexi Ashbourne!”
“And you… will you be having a guest join you and the Venari tonight? Because he is—”
“No, no,” Aydra interrupted. “I need you to handle that for me and give me details.”
Lex straightened up and ran her hand through her short blonde hair, her eyes darting back to Hagen standing waiting on them. Aydra grabbed Lex’s arm as Hagen turned and smiled at them.
“Details,” Aydra said in an exaggerated tone. “Details, Lex. I need them.”
“Perhaps we should all have a go together.”
Aydra’s brows raised at the thought. “That’s… that’s certainly not a bad idea.”
Lex grinned at her and straightened her shirt. “Escort him to breakfast. Let’s see how he and your Venari get on before we suggest such a thing,” she said with a wink.
Aydra joined Hagen back a few moments later. They were the last ones to leave the comfort of the outdoor theater. She allowed him to escort her all the way to the dining hall, telling her about the celebrations they so had in his town the entire way. And when they finally entered the dining hall, she was immediately met with the loud laughter of the one she’d left in her own bed that morning.
It was a look of joy on Draven’s face that she’d never seen within these kingdom walls, a freedom of his core that reminded her of the poor relationship her own people shared with the rest of the beings of Haerland. She envied the camaraderie these races seemed to share despite the distances between them.
Her chest swelled when Draven did a double-take in her direction, and this tongue darted out over his lips as his eyes danced between she and Hagen on her arm.
“Who let this guy in your walls?” Hagen said loudly as they approached. “It was my impression the Promised and Venari didn’t exactly get along.”
Draven turned towards Hagen, chin rising as he set his cup down. “Funny. I was under the impression trash was immediately dumped from their window to the Edge.”
Aydra wasn’t sure what was happening, until—
Grins broke on both their faces, and Hagen dropped her arm at an instant.
Great bellows of what she assumed were their hello’s echoed in the hall as they embraced one another, their hands clapping each other on their backs.
“It’s great to see you, mate!” Hagen exclaimed.
Draven laughed as he pulled back and grasped Hagen’s face. “I didn’t know you could get uglier,” he bantered.
Hagen let a great chortle out that nearly shook the room. “Mate, you’re greying. What’ve these people got you in to that you’re already begun growing salt in your beard?”
Both brows raised on Draven’s face. “You’ve no idea.”
Hagen shook his head and then laughed as he hugged Draven once more. “Ah, it is great to see a familiar face,” he mused. “I was terrified of having to walk these halls with only the Queen here as my escort.”
Draven smirked and gave her a full once over again, his hands shoving in his pockets. “And what an escort that would have been,” he said, winking at her.
Her chest swelled to its capacity at the familiar bantering Draven standing before her.
Her brows raised, and she crossed her arms over her chest. “Treading on fire, my King,” she warned.
“Hold on. Wait, wait—” Hagen’s eyes darted between them, holding his hands up. “You two…” His brows raised, and then he hit Draven’s stomach playfully. “You animal!” he exclaimed. Hagen draped his arm around Draven’s shoulders and met Aydra’s eyes. “Venari King in bed with his Promised enemy Queen. This is something the Chronicles won’t tell us about,” he bantered.
“You’ve a problem with who I keep in my bed, Elder?” Aydra asked.
Hagen chuckled under his breath. “The fact he is the one in your bed says a lot more about your ability to love those not of your own kingdom than anything else you could have dared tell me these next few days.”
He removed his arm from Draven and held out a hand to her once more, which she hesitantly took.
“You have my attention, Sun Queen.”
Aydra smirked at Draven over Hagen’s shoulder. “Who knew fucking the Venari King would have such diplomatic perks,” she bantered.
The laughter from the Blackhands echoed in the room, and Draven grinned, shaking his head slightly at her.
“Ropes, my Queen,” he growled.
“Looking forward to it,” she winked.
Hagen wiped his face of the tears, and he draped his arm around Aydra’s shoulders once more. “Oh, this is brilliant,” he said, turning her towards the middle of the room. “You know, it’s actually better that you’re taken. Now you can show me who I should and shouldn’t flirt with for fear of death.”
Aydra shook her head and pulled his arm off her shoulders so that she could tuck her own arm into his. “No one warned me how much of a handful you all were.”
Hagen grinned at her. “Oh, my lovely Sun Queen… You’ve only just met us. This is only the beginning. We’ve many more adventures to come.”
CHAPTER FIFTY-THREE
THE BLACKHANDS WERE settled into their rooms an hour after breakfast. Aydra hadn’t laughed so much since her short days in the Forest with Draven’s kind. Dorian and Lex had joined them as they ate food not in the dining hall, but on one of the balconies adjacent to it, the Blackhands sitting on the ledges, legs swinging off as though they dared not fear the fall from the wall.
The Nitesh and Honest were due to arrive at lunch. Aydra soon excused herself so she could clean herself up and change dresses before their arrival.
Her core was full upon leaving them.
Aydra waited nervously with her family in the Throne Room for the Nitesh to arrive a few hours later. Her brother’s foot wouldn’t stop tapping on the floor, making it echo around the still room.
“Glad to know someone can still strike fear into your poisonous veins,” she mumbled just loud enough he could hear it.
“You will behave in front of them,” he muttered back.
She almost laughed. “You’ll need to do a better job at defining ‘behave’.”
“I mean, you will not embarrass our race in front of the Nitesh,”
he said as he leaned closer to her. “We need her to see us as her leaders, nothing less.”
She turned her head and stared at him. “Her leaders? You expect the Nitesh to bow before our crown? Haerland’s chosen daughter, the most powerful woman in this land, and the only person who could in fact curse you… You want her to bow?”
He settled back in his chair and exhaled deeply, staring out at Arbina’s tree. “If she knows what is best for her people.”
This time, Aydra laughed audibly and shook her head. “What’s best… I hope she turns you into a frog,” she said with a roll of her eyes.
The door opened then, and a line of Belwarks filed inside, coming to stand in lines on either side of the door as a pathway to the throne chairs. Aydra stood, followed by her youngers, and then finally by Rhaif.
The Belwark Corbin came forward, helmet in his hand at his hip. “Your guests have arrived, Your Majestys,” he told them.
The first one to burst in through the doors made Aydra fight a smile.
“The Hones—”
Nadir pushed the Belwark out of the way and shook his head. “Yeah, yeah,” he cut Corbin off. “Put a sock in it, will you? I can announce my own people.”
Aydra straightened her dress and clasped her hands in front of her as she fought the grin threatening her lips. Nadir’s strides caught the room and he stepped right up the steps to them. He paused for a moment in front of Aydra.
And then he gently tapped the crown on her head.
“Look at that,” he mused, a grin spreading over his features. “You do actually own the crown you deserve.”
A swell of gratitude filled her, and she almost laughed. “Hello, Nadir.”
His face furrowed. “Just a hello? That’s all I get? Here I thought we were better battle friends than that,” he said with a wink. His gaze looked past Aydra and he found Lex standing behind her. “Second Sun—” he gave her a deliberate once over “—I like this armor on you.”
“I’m sure you do,” Aydra heard Lex respond.
Nadir grinned, but then it slowly fell from his face upon a double-take to his left, and Aydra knew he’d seen Nyssa standing beside her. His narrowing eyes flickered back to Aydra for a split. He paused and swallowed hard. “Such lies from you, Sun Queen…” he began, the obvious smolder he was attempting gravely faltering on his features as he turned back to Nyssa and gave her a full once over, and Aydra watched him shift on his feet.
