The Rising

by Kristen Ashley

  Now, as their Regent and his bride rode through their streets behind unicorns, their royals openly noted surprise and even shock, when not only did many of the citizens rush to the edges of the streets and cry their “Huzzahs” when the heroes returned home…

  Since they’d left on the heels of the king being sentenced to prison for decades, those of the New Airen proudly, gratefully and ecstatically finally were able to display their colors.

  From sky-blue to heather-purple to Nadirii coral, and some with all colors in one, pennants could be seen everywhere.

  Hanging proudly from windows. Draped over doorways. Flying from poles on roofs.

  And those who had the time, inclination and coin to do it, painted their doors in New Airen.

  These being any color of the sky, from dawn to midnight.

  Or Nadirii purple or coral.

  This was not all.

  Oh no, indeed.

  For men wore New Airen ribbons on the lapels of their frock coats, or neckcloths the colors of New Airen, doing this proudly to share openly the bent of their beliefs.

  And women made quick work of dying petticoats all manner of blue, purple and orange.

  And those women with the means had blouses made of those colors.

  Indeed, down at the docks of Twilight Harbor just two days before, when news arrived the Battle of the Veil was won by their Regent and his queen, the innkeepers and pub owners opened taps and the doxies heated vats in the streets.

  The whores then stood delightedly in the cold in their skivvies as they tossed their skirts and underthings in the vats. The same vats where men and women’s hands and arms and chests and legs and faces were drunkenly dyed the colors of the skies it was told in ancient times their kings had commanded, and they were dyed thus in celebration.

  It would be remiss not to note that the news their future princess had become a queen at her mother’s passing had been observed by the citizenry.

  And this was the only thing that stopped the procession on its way to the Citadel.

  It had to halt, for across the lane that led up to the castle, a three-foot high pile of flowers, coins, scraps of purple or coral silk, broken arrows and white oak leaves barred their path.

  Prince Cassius and his queen had to round their horses and jump the tributes to make the lane of the Citadel.

  And at Cassius’ command, the carts at the rear of the procession were unloaded at the base, their contents handed over the barrier and reloaded on empty ones to carry the belongs up the grade in order not to disturb the Bayzian tribute in honor to a lost queen.

  The message had been made clear in Airen there was an Allied Gentry who would do its worst to maintain the status quo of the only land on Triton who clung to ideals that were not only outmoded, they were insufferable.

  But the statement was also being strongly made, against them stood the New Airen Citizenry, and not only in Sky Bay.

  And they had very different ideas.

  132

  The Introduction

  Queen Silence

  Sky Citadel, Sky Bay

  AIREN

  To say the mood was hushed as we all strode into the grand entryway of the Citadel after our ride through Sky Bay was an understatement.

  Distractedly, I noted the plethora of coral-colored spiked gladiolus in a large vase atop a grand, gleaming round table sitting on a lovely carpet, all this under a daunting candelabrum in the middle of the space.

  But mostly, I was stunned silent.

  Everyone was.

  Even Farah, who had never been to Sky Bay.

  But clearly, she’d heard about it.

  And it had profoundly changed.

  I looked up to my husband to see he was studying the gladiolus and he did not appear staggered.

  He looked in danger of bursting with laughter.

  I opened my mouth to ask after what he found amusing but closed it when the humor swept clean from his face, he moved to stand closer to me, and his attention snapped to the stairwell.

  I peeked around him and saw a woman appear at the top.

  She lifted her long, full skirts that consisted of a swoop of material over the front that led to rosettes at the side of her nipped waist, a cascade of graceful falling ruffles at the sides and in the back, and a tightly fitted bodice. All of this a bright shade of tangerine (save the ruffles, which were a fade of peach to tangerine) with accents of black.

  She was racing down the steps.

  She did this crying, “Elena!”

  “Who is that?” I whispered to Mars, watching as the woman made the bottom, dropped her skirts and dashed to Elena.

  I also noted Cass’s man, Ian following her far more sedately.

  “That is Domitia,” Mars murmured.

  “King Gallienus’s last wife?” I asked.

  “Mm,” Mars hummed his affirmative, his gaze closely watching the women across the room.

  Thus, I did so too.

  Elena broke the embrace Domitia threw herself into but only did so holding the woman’s hands out to their sides and demanding, “What are you wearing?”

  Domitia’s face fell. “Do you hate it?”

  “I adore it,” Elena replied.

  Domitia’s expression brightened so much, her dress stopped blinding me and her smile took over.

  She then tossed a look over her shoulder at Ian, demanding, “See? Elena doesn’t think it’s too loud.”

  “I don’t either,” Ian drawled in reply. “Now that it’s burned my retinas into dysfunction.”

  “Ian,” Elena whispered in stunned surprise.

  “You’re obnoxious,” Domitia accused over Elena’s whisper.

  Elena blinked and Cass did not hide his shock at her words, though I got the impression it was not about her rudeness, but her courage in uttering them.

  “I’m honest,” Ian returned. “You’d be prettier in pink.”

  She let go of Elena and rounded on Ian fully.

  “I don’t like pink.”

  “Then red.”

  “Red is too bold.”

  “Then anything that isn’t the color of fruit,” he returned.

  “There are pink fruits,” she retorted.

  “Name one,” he challenged.

  “Berries!” she snapped.

  “Berries are sweet and succulent and very good to eat. Citrus is tart and acid and not you,” Ian fired back.

  Oh my.

  At that, Domitia herself turned very pink, clashing with her gown.

  She then whirled on Elena. “He’s been a scoundrel the entire time you’ve been away.”

  “She did not think me thus when I took her shopping for that bloody material she’s drowning in, in the now,” Ian told Cassius.

  “You do know, we just survived two battles, one of which we were outnumbered, ten to one,” Cassius reminded his friend.

  “And I can say with all honesty, deep respect, and equal grief at all I know was lost that for many reasons, I would have rather been there with you than here…shopping,” Ian retorted.

  “I might laugh,” I muttered out the side of my mouth to Mars.

  “Don’t,” Mars ordered. “I’m uncertain who’s going to blow first, Cass or Ian, but it would be very bad if you were in that firing line, for I would not like it.”

  That cured my humor instantly.

  “Perhaps we can receive a report?” Cassius suggested drily.

  “I’d be delighted,” Ian replied.

  “Are these your friends?” Domitia asked, eyeing the rest of us, now that the drama was done, appearing timid.

  I also noted at this juncture, Dax Lahn and his Circe were coming into the room from a hallway off to our right.

  Elena introduced us to Domitia. She did it warmly, but she did it swiftly.

  She then held her hand so as not to indicate Domitia was dismissed when she turned to Ian and said, “Where should we talk?”

  “Wouldn’t you like refreshments after your ride?” Domitia aske
d.

  Elena looked down at her. “If you could see to that, we’d be very grateful.”

  “It’d be my honor,” she replied, before she grinned at Elena, bobbed a shy curtsy to Mars and me, Farah and True, Frey and Finnie, then she floated on a waft of tangerine silk and ruffles toward a hallway off to the left.

  “The Great Hall has the seating,” Ian said.

  “Let’s go,” Cass called to Elena, reaching out to her with a hand.

  She moved to him and took it, and we all walked into the Great Hall, which was truly a delight with silver velvet couches, low round pots tufted with tight-packed snowy carnations on conveniently placed tables, and thick, midnight-blue rugs covering the floors.

  And I realized upon entering it, I had a rather dire, fixed idea of what the Citadel was like. So much so, it colored my memories of the Bay, which I remembered as nothing but cold and austere.

  Mars grunted when he moved into the room.

  “All right?” I asked him.

  “Some time ago, Cass and I spoke of miracles,” he answered. “It would seem Elena has a variety of magicks at her disposal, for I see she has wrought some.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “This room, under Gallienus, was designed to intimidate and call notice to him, forcing courtiers to compete for his attention. So far, mia bellezza, with some flowers, rugs and sofas, Elena has swept this place clean of him and the rule of his forebears in very little time. Thus, a miracle.”

  “These are not miracles, Mars,” I educated him.

  As he was seating me on a couch, he raised his brows in question.

  “I learned from Mercy before she passed, the power of females takes many forms.”

  He grunted again as he sat beside me, slouched down in his seat, stretched out his long legs, crossed his booted ankles, and dropped into me, draping an arm around the back of the couch behind me.

  My husband comfortably resting against me, all was right in my world.

  For the now.

  We waited as the others, including Serena and Chu, Hera and Macrinus, and Nero took their seats before Ian started talking.

  “First, Elena.”

  He said no more. Simply looked at her with an expression on his handsome face that had a frog forming in my throat.

  “Speak not, my brother,” she whispered.

  He nodded, looked to Mac.

  “She is in the veil,” Mac grunted. “And we will talk no more of it in the now.”

  He nodded and looked to Hera.

  “She liked you very much,” Hera said softly.

  “And I liked her too,” Ian replied gently.

  Hera’s lashes swept down.

  He looked to Cass. “Tone?”

  “He will be here soon, and we will lay him to rest by his father with his mother and sister at our sides.”

  A muscle danced in Ian’s jaw before he nodded one last time and he said, “Right. You should know, I’ve received reports that there’s a stronghold of Allied Gentry in Dunlyn. I’ve sent word to Navagio. He’s randomly inundating low-populated, high-financial-loss areas, like warehouses, wharves, piers, jetties and merchant offices with cannon fire to provide cover for our operatives to infiltrate and find their headquarters.”

  “Excellent,” Cassius murmured.

  “Though, it has come to my attention just hours ago that Fern and her women have already infiltrated Dunlyn, and she is about that same errand.”

  “Fuck,” Cassius bit.

  “I’ve returned word to her to stand down,” Ian went on.

  “Good,” Cassius said.

  “She is not the only rogue faction at work, brother,” Ian warned his prince.

  Mars made a growly noise.

  I put my hand on his thigh and he relaxed.

  “There are reports of skirmishes breaking out all over Airen,” Ian continued. “They’re calling themselves the ‘New Airen Citizenry.’ And apparently, if groups of Allied Gentry are identified, they’re being attacked or besieged in their own manors and castles. Not only that, in those places that are AG strongholds, NAC factions are marching in protest, which makes them return targets and they are being attacked and imprisoned in the dungeons of AG castles.”

  Cassius sat back on his couch, draping his arm around Elena, who was grinning.

  “This is not good news,” he groused to his intended.

  “Civil unrest isn’t always bad,” she replied.

  “And how can I ask Frey to call his dragons to incinerate these Gentry bastions if my own supporters are in their dungeons?” Cassius asked her.

  “I’d forgotten you intended to do that,” Elena murmured.

  Cassius sighed.

  “I will say, Cass,” Ian cut in, “that once you heralded that notice, reports increased that NAC supporters, or simply Airenzian going about their business, mostly women, have been abducted and confined, thus if the dragons rain their fire, it will be gentry property that is destroyed, but our supporters will be the ones who perish.”

  Cassius’s gaze sliced to Frey.

  I glanced at Frey to see his jaw tight.

  Ian continued, “I have sent peace-keeping squadrons out to areas that are not known AG strongholds in order to attempt to keep the NAC in those places under some semblance of control. And I’ve sent messages to AG strongholds where it is reported hostages have been taken, demanding their release. Your secretary has a full reporting of this you can look over.”

  Cass nodded.

  “Can we talk for a second about what was happening between you and Domitia out in the entryway?” Elena requested of Ian.

  At that, Ian’s jaw got tight.

  “For fuck’s sake,” Cassius muttered.

  “You have to admit she’s much changed,” Elena said to Cassius, then turned directly to Ian. “Is it you we have to thank for that?”

  “I’ve just been seeing to her,” Ian lied.

  “Uh-huh, just seeing to her. Right,” Circe mumbled.

  “Kah fauna, rayloo,” Lahn murmured.

  “Right, raylooing,” Circe said, directing wide eyes to Finnie.

  Finnie dropped her smile to her lap.

  “What does rayloo mean?” I whispered to Mars.

  “I’ve no bloody idea,” Mars didn’t whisper to me.

  I swallowed down my giggle.

  “Look! Isn’t this lovely?” The woman under discussion cried from the doorway, and all turned to her as Domitia entered the room. “More company. I’m glad I ordered many refreshments brought up.”

  “Ha-Lah!” I cried, jumping up and dashing to my friend.

  She opened her arms.

  I ran into them, curving mine around her as she closed hers around me.

  “I’m so glad you’re here,” I whispered into her ear.

  “I am too, my—”

  She didn’t get to finish, for I was torn out of her embrace.

  I then found myself behind Mars’s back and he was retreating, taking me with him.

  “Mars!” I snapped. “What on—?”

  “Aramus, explain,” my husband growled.

  “Mars! Stop pushing me!” I hissed.

  “Trust me,” Aramus’s deep voice came.

  “You ask a lot, brother,” Mars rumbled.

  I shoved against his back at the same time preparing to sidestep him.

  But suddenly, True was at one side of me, Cassius at the other, fencing me in.

  “Maybe we should talk in the other room,” True stated.

  And at my cousin’s chilly, enraged tone, I stopped moving, for I had not ever known True to be chilly or enraged.

  “Cass,” Mars bit out on a warning.

  “Domitia, can you please take our new visitors to the red room?” Cass inquired.

  “B-but, of course, Cassius,” Domitia stammered.

  “What’s going on?” I whispered to the back of my husband’s head.

  “Not a word,” Mars said, to whom I did not know, though I knew it wasn�
�t to me.

  “But, Mars—” Ha-Lah began to reply.

  “Not a bloody, fucking word,” Mars demanded.

  “Of course,” Ha-Lah whispered.

  With that, Mars turned to me, bent so his face was in mine and said simply, “It is my duty to protect you, and you must allow me to do that.”

  I blinked.

  What was he on about?

  “Yes, my love?” he prompted.

  “Yes,” I breathed.

  He pressed a hard kiss to my lips before he turned and prowled out of the room, Cassius, True, Lahn, Frey, Ian and Mac going with him.

  Chu remained behind.

  No doubt to see to me.

  Aramus was nowhere to be seen.

  I looked left to right, begging to know, “Please, someone, what’s happening?”

  “It will all be all right,” Ha-Lah assured, coming to me.

  Elena appeared to my one side, Farah to my right.

  “But, what’s happening?” I repeated.

  “Soon you will know,” Ha-Lah said, then laid a gentle hand on my cheek, and I saw her beautiful crystal eyes were warm. “And you will be happy.”

  King Mars

  Informal Salon, “Red Room,” Sky Citadel, Sky Bay

  AIREN

  “We didn’t know you were here,” Aramus stated. “You were last reported in the Night Heights, which is a many days’ ride away. And I’ll wish to know how you were even there, for before that, you were reported in Wodell, which is a many weeks’ ride away.”

  “We rode through the city in procession not an hour ago, Aramus,” Mars growled, scowling at his friend.

  “We did not ride in procession. We did so with some care, and more stealth, for we did not know the leanings of the Bay,” Aramus replied. “We learned quickly but thought it best to carry forward cautiously.”

  Mars decided to let that go in order that he could find out what the fuck was going on and not leave his Silence wondering and worrying.

  “And who is he?” he demanded of Aramus, referring to the tall, powerfully-built, silver-eyed man at Aramus’s side.

  “He is standing right here, and you can direct your questions right to me,” the silver-eyed man said.

  “You have her eyes,” Mars clipped to him.

  “She has mine,” he retorted.

  “You do know who I am,” Mars stated.