Witherstone- Wings of My Legion

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Witherstone- Wings of My Legion Page 11

by Elizabeth Holland


  “I’ll ask her,” he said, lifting his chin in pride. “Whether she agrees or not is another question.” Shyly hiding his smile, Lorcan took a long breath in through his nose. With a humming exhale, he faced me outside my door. “Thank you for keeping me company this night.”

  “Thank you,” I answered him. Turning the handle for me, he paused, standing in the doorway with something on his mind.

  “Do you believe I’m worthy of this title?” his voice was soft and uncertain. I almost couldn’t believe my ears. Lorcan Haldor, second-guessing himself.

  “I think the fact that you’re asking this question means you’re more worthy than you know.”

  Brunch would start in an hour. I had gone back to sleep for a little bit before a knight came to wake me. I sat up and stretched, and then I checked to see if my daughter had grown. Still the same bump. And, as I pushed off the blankets, I realized I hadn’t dreamed of Dylan. In fact, I hadn’t dreamed of anything at all. It was a relief, but I couldn’t shake the feeling of dread that I had gotten from that nightmare. It was real—to a point. I knew I had indeed spoken to Dylan, and that he was stuck in a dream in Frostmoor, trying to defend everything from a fog of darkness. And I knew exactly who the fog was.

  “Hey,” Bryn met me near the stairs on my way to the dining hall. “I’d like you to meet Cadence.” The young woman and I exchanged hellos and smiles. She had terrific bright honey eyes and the skin of someone who spent a lot of time in the sun.

  “I’ve heard a lot about you,” she said to me in her delicate, airy voice.

  “I hope it’s good stuff,” I joked.

  “Of course,” she smiled. “I like how you helped Caleb without hesitating.” Bryn really had told her a lot. But it earned me some respect, so I couldn’t complain.

  “He means a lot to my sister and me. I’d help him any time.”

  “Irene,” Tristan called to me from the bottom of the stairs. I faced him and could see how refreshed and content he was looking. I half-expected to see him unraveling slowly, but he was looking better this day than the previous. I went down toward him as he opened his arm for me to take hold. “She’s looking healthy,” he remarked after eying my belly.

  “A whole week has passed,” I told him as he escorted me to the dining hall. Bryn and Cadence were following behind.

  “We’ll leave right after,” Bryn leaned up and spoke between Tristan and me. I gave a nod.

  “I might join you,” Tristan said with his chin held high. “I need a break from this place. And, since I’m not needed—”

  “Of course you’re needed,” I stopped and faced him. “Don’t ever think you aren’t.”

  “I mean,” he had a soft smile as he spoke, “I’m not the king, so I don’t have to stay.”

  “The king can’t ever leave?” I sort of gasped.

  “Well, not until everything is arranged,” he explained. “The court, the appointed ranking members of the castle, affairs, duties. It never ends really, but Lorcan can leave the realm after his reign is set.”

  “And our trip to Isle Lore?” I whispered as other people passed us.

  “I’m sure he won’t take his time getting things in order.”

  I sighed in relief.

  “Anyway,” we continued toward the dining hall, “I’d like to travel a bit—in the mortal realm. Visit New York and, oh, I haven’t been to California since the eighties. I bet it’s very different.”

  “You’d be right,” I laughed. “Just be sure to stop in and see me.”

  “Always.”

  “This way, please,” an usher spoke to us at the door to the dining hall. He led us past the individual square tables set around the room. Each one had eight chairs with cerulean coverings and white flowers along the back of the seat; a purely white tablecloth with ice patterns along the edges; and various furnishings that were nothing short of decadence. Candles in shades of cerulean and white; dishes made from the finest material, etched with little aquamarine ice patterns; white flowers nestled into pale blue vases—the place was staged like a wedding reception at an upscale country club in New England. No detail was missed, no opportunity at symmetry was overlooked. And the head table, the one the usher was leading us toward, had even more flowers and candles than all the rest. I gripped tight to Tristan’s arm in anticipation.

  Sitting in the center of the head table was a throne-like chair. I knew it wasn’t the actual throne—wherever that was—but it was meant for the king no less. The king… King. Lorcan was now the King of the Faeries, a title that gave him dominion over all of Skye Sorn and over faeries everywhere. It was a strange thought, really. But I wondered if that was how the dragons saw me. If all the dragons in every legion across all the realms saw Elliot and me as supreme leaders. I knew the ones in Frostmoor sure did. They didn’t hesitate to see that I was being taken care of, or that I had what I both needed and wanted.

  Tristan pulled out a chair for me directly next to the throne-like chair and I laughed.

  “What?”

  “I’m not sitting right next to him,” I refused with a bashful smile. I wasn’t that close to him. Although he did once offer to make me his queen. But he knew I couldn’t do that, especially with my daughter—Elliot’s daughter—growing inside of me.

  “Your name’s there,” he pointed to the little card sitting on the plate.

  I sighed and took my seat. Tristan was to my left, waving at a server who had been pouring glasses of wine in the corner. He brought over two glasses and Tristan took them both.

  “None for the babe, I’m afraid,” he grinned.

  “Who else will sit here?” I wondered, eying the other cards.

  “Aislinn is here,” he said after reading the one at his side. I leaned back to read the ones at the other end of the table, but I could only make out Queen Mother, Florienne. The last two were too far to read. “His mother?” Tristan nearly choked on the wine as more guests entered through the open doors. “Irene, he shouldn’t have asked her to come.”

  “He said she had a right to see her son take the throne,” I offered, but it didn’t ease Tristan’s sudden fear. “What did she do that was so terrible?” I whispered.

  “She froze Oriana, Princess Divine, and put her into an eternal slumber,” Tristan spoke poetically. Before I could ask who Oriana was, he leaned close and whispered to me, “Bryn’s mother.”

  “No,” I mumbled as Bryn and Cadence took their seats. Bryn shot me a little smile and I tried to smile back, but I was suddenly feeling a weight of sadness and regret. Mouthing the words, you okay, Bryn motioned toward my belly. I gave a nod and finally smiled fully.

  “She’ll leave when she sees the Queen Mother,” Tristan shook his head. “I can’t believe him.”

  “How do we know she won’t hurt Bryn?”

  “She’s bound by amulets; she hasn’t been able to use her element for almost thirty years.” That was good to hear, but it also meant that Bryn was much older than I thought. And again, time and space were collectively giving me a headache.

  “Tristan!” a man from my right was walking up to the head table with a dimpled grin and wide arms. Tristan shot out of his chair as soon as he saw the man, embracing him as they both laughed. “I see you’ve found a pretty date,” the man grinned over me.

  “Oh, no,” Tristan laughed. “This, my dear cousin, is the Lady of Frostmoor, Irene.”

  “My apologies,” the man—Aiden, by the print on his now visible notecard—grinned once more and reached for my hand. With a small kiss, he bowed to me. “And where is the Lord of Warriors? I’d imagine he’d be obvious with that damn sword sticking out his pocket!”

  “That’s funny,” I laughed with my whole body.

  “No disrespect, of course,” he joked.

  “None taken.” He took his seat to the right of the throne and then waved at the server for a drink. “You’re cousins?”

  “My father is—or, was—Ronan’s little brother. It’s been a while since we’ve
seen the Prince of Pleasure, but I’m sure he’s up to no good.”

  “Your father isn’t coming?” Tristan sat back down. “I thought he’d come to protest at least.”

  “I haven’t spoken to dear old dad in about ten years. Last I saw him was at a giving ceremony on the Fair Isle.” The server had brought a tall stein of dark liquid to the man. After nodding in thanks, Aiden drank down a long gulp. “Ah, nothing like Knosterstals hops.”

  “Wait,” I breathed out. “First of all, what is a giving ceremony? And,” I faced Tristan, “what are Knosterstal hops?”

  “It’s a fragrant little bush that blooms once every three years,” Aiden leaned forward and put his arm over the throne. “They only grow here. I’ve tried to take them down to the Hills, but they never live long enough to bloom.”

  I nodded along. It was mesmerizing to listen to Aiden speak. He had an accent like Tristan and Lorcan, but it was a little more British, and little less proper. “And the giving ceremony?”

  “A friend of mine was given to her mate,” he leaned back with another swig.

  “What?”

  “Another time,” Tristan tapped my arm. “You may want to slide over,” Tristan told Aiden as he noticed a woman standing in the doorway. I looked right to Bryn, who was now struggling to hold back tears. She might have expected to see the woman who ended her mother’s life, but actually facing her, well that was another thing.

  The room was almost full. Every chair in the immediate area was taken, and only a few remained in the back. Everyone was probably a distant relative Lorcan hadn’t seen in years. In a lot of years, I was betting. I scooted out of my chair, deciding to check on Bryn, when Tristan grabbed my arm and told me to sit.

  “What?” I whispered angrily at him.

  “Lorcan’s here,” he motioned at the side window. I could vaguely make out his body through the stained glass, but it meant I needed to stay in my place. Bryn, thankfully, was getting comfort from her friend and seemed to be okay for the moment. I slouched back in, getting comfortable as the Queen Mother took her seat. I tried not to look at her much; it was too sad. She was like a prestigious wealthy woman, wearing a long fur coat and pearls around her neck. There was a plainness to her that seemed so wrong. Surrounded by magical creatures, she was dull and out of place. I glanced over as she took her seat—the one Aiden had been occupying for the last few minutes. He gave her a nod as he pushed her chair in. Then his eyes came to mine and he had a smile that was both sad and empathetic at the same time.

  Aiden took his seat and said something to the woman, something no one could hear. She lowered her head in a nod and then faced forward. Waving for a refill, Aiden got the server to come over to the table. And here was where I noticed just how the woman was being restrained from using her magic. Leaning to take the glass in her wrinkled hands, a bracelet of twine slid out from beneath her sleeve. It was a braided piece of jewelry, made from shimmering, silvery twine, which contained a single round bead of iron. It was so small that I only noticed it because of the shine of light it captured from the window. I wondered if it hurt her, if it caused her pain or anguish. But then, she had caused others pain, unforgivable pain. This was my first encounter with her, but I had heard of her uncontrollable magic and the terror it caused.

  “No way,” Tristan mumbled as a young woman came into the room.

  “What is it?” I whispered back. People were growing silent in anticipation of Lorcan’s entrance. A man in a long white robe was at the door, holding a scroll in his hands and checking the hall behind him. I knew he’d be announcing Lorcan in a matter of seconds. But it was the woman who had Tristan’s jaw nearly on the floor.

  “Sabienne,” he mumbled, again leaving his mouth open.

  She was delicate, with bright strawberry hair and freckles over her nose. Her eyes kept to the floor as she sauntered toward the empty seat at the head table. Aiden stood and pulled her chair out for her as she gave him a blushing smile.

  “Who is she?” I whispered to Tristan.

  “Lorcan’s betrothed,” Tristan’s brow creased.

  “He has another bride?” I spoke through my teeth.

  “No,” Tristan shook his head. “It was an agreement made by our father, when he and I were very young.” Arranged marriage? Yeah, that sounded right. “Lorcan never honored the agreement, and it nearly started a war.”

  “Why didn’t he want her?” I asked as I leaned and caught another glimpse of her. She had folded her hands in her lap and was sitting so patiently and so calm.

  “He was already in love by the time he reached the age to marry her,” Tristan told. “He was kind then, and dissolving the agreement was mutual—unwanted, but mutual.”

  “Then why is she here today?”

  Tristan shrugged, “Maybe he plans to marry her out of respect.”

  “What about Samira?”

  “She’d be his queen, that’s for sure,” Tristan took a sip of his wine. “But Sabienne deserves a royal life; it’s her birthright.”

  “So, she’d be like your mother,” I realized.

  Tristan nodded.

  “And that’s okay?”

  “She’s unwed,” Tristan leaned and looked her over. “Knowing she was meant for the future king—well, the King, now—has probably made most men keep away from her.”

  “But the agreement was dissolved.” I couldn’t really understand why the pretty woman wasn’t already in love with someone else. Why she hadn’t tried to live a life for herself.

  “She was raised, taught, conditioned, to be the bride of a king,” Tristan had a sympathetic look in his eyes, kind of how he used to look at me before I knew who I was. “It’s all she knows. He owes her that much.”

  Before we could say another word, the bold sounds of a trumpet came to our ears. Like any significant announcement, the song played for a few seconds as the man in the white robe came forward and unrolled the scroll. I leaned up to see Lorcan, but all I could catch was the side of his arm from where he stood in the hall.

  “It is my pleasure to introduce your new King, Aindréas Lorcanu Somhairle an Haldor, Rìgh na Deighe, Tighearna nan Sìthichean.”

  I let out a huff—as quietly as I could—and got a response from Tristan.

  “You should hear my name,” he whispered in my ear. I giggled.

  After the man rolled the scroll back up, he stepped aside and loosened his robe so that he could take a knee. The other people in the room rose from their seats as Lorcan stepped into view. Covered in a cascading cloak of shimmering silver jewels and elaborate patterns that both embodied and enlivened the natural landscape of Skye Sorn, the King took his first step into the room. One by one, his relatives knelt as he passed by their tables. Even the little kids knew what to do. Tristan took my hand and stood with me as the rest of the head table took to their feet. Lorcan was now close enough that I could see the glimmering aquamarine of his irises catch the sunlight from behind me. He flashed a quick grin as Tristan motioned me to take a knee. This time, I was going to bow to the King. He and I were allies, friends. I needed to show my allegiance just as much as he would for me. Granted, during my unity ceremony with Elliot, Lorcan would not have knelt in my presence because he would have had to kneel to Elliot. But things were different now. I was in his realm, and I owed him the respect of a bow in the least.

  Lowering down to my knee, I could feel my daughter bumping against my upper thigh. She had grown a little more. I needed to get home as soon as possible, but I promised to support Lorcan during his presentation. A little bit longer wouldn’t be so terrible. At least I hoped.

  “Rise, my friends,” Lorcan voiced after he had stepped up to the table. We all stood and waited for him to sit into the throne-like chair before we took our seats. “I’d like to thank everyone for coming today. I have only one thing to announce on this first day of my kingship,” he spoke with the same patience and grace as he always had. “As your King, I require one thing, one thing that is different from the
kings before me. I’ve come to find new friendships in the past year,” he leaned and glanced in my direction briefly, “and they’ve made me stronger and helped me in ways I could never have imagined.” Lorcan then took a deep breath. “As your King, I forbid any being with faerie blood from murder by sustenance.” The room was silent as he continued. “Your nourishment is necessary, but not to the point of taking an innocent life.”

  I have to say, it surprised me a little to hear him make this declaration. Faeries were no longer allowed to take essence to the point of killing another being. They were still allowed to feed on humans and other creatures, but if they killed one… I wondered what he’d do.

  “Let’s feast in celebration of a new reign,” he smiled and raised his glass. The faeries all copied and cheered as they drank to their new King.

  FORESIGHT

  Stepping out of the mud in the forest in Talon Grove was once again strange, but at least the mud went away within a few minutes. I got up and brushed off my jeans and shook out my sweater, and then I waited for Bryn and Tristan to emerge.

  “Lady Irene!” Mirabel’s voice came to my ears from behind. When I turned, she wrapped me in her arms and giggled. “I’ve been waiting for you.”

  “You have?” I smiled. It was great to see her friendly face.

  “Erik told me to watch for your return,” she leaned up on her toes as she spoke. Ever full of energy, the pixie clapped her hands as we started to walk through the woods.

  “Is he in town?” Bryn asked. She had taken off her jacket under the peeking sunlight from the canopy. It was warm in Talon Grove, warm enough to make me pull my sleeves up.

  “He’s at the apothecary gathering things to wake Dylan,” she informed me.

 

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