Crown of Chaos

by Sarah E. Burr

  Chapter Two

  Jax leaned her head against Mortimer’s graceful neck, closing her eyes as her leg muscles groaned in protest. Knowing the long ride they still had ahead of them, George insisted they stop and stretch for a few minutes. Although anxious to reach the border, Jax acquiesced to George’s demand, despite having the authority to overrule him. She knew how much strain this trip had put on George. She saw it gnawing away at him, his hand frequently rubbing the tight muscles at the base of his neck, where she knew his own anxiety simmered.

  The ancient protocols of the War Council prohibited the sovereigns from being accompanied by an envoy of soldiers, for fear a gathering saturated with armed guards would lead to immediate bloodshed, the exact opposite outcome the War Council intended. Therefore, it had been agreed upon in the days of old that each Duke or Duchess in the realm would travel to the War Council with only one escort for protection. Jax hadn’t hesitated in allowing George to be the one to accompany her. She knew it would be fruitless to ask him to assign another guard to her detail. While his presence as Commander General of the Saphirian Ducal Forces was sorely required, there was no way George Solomon would send Jax into the northern wilds of the realm with anyone other than himself.

  “Hungry at all?” George appeared from behind a snowy thicket as he returned from patrolling the surrounding forest.

  Jax shook her head, a lone caramel curl pulling loose from her plait. “I dare say the palace kitchen gave us a fine send-off. I might not be hungry again until we reach Cetachi.”

  George chuckled. “Then I guess I’ll keep these cherry tarts tucked away in my saddlebag.” He patted the leather pouch strapped to the mare’s rump.

  “Cherry tarts?” Jax’s eyebrows rose.

  He nodded. “Sour cherry, of all things.”

  Jax’s mouth watered. Perhaps she had room for one little bite of her favorite pastries…

  George’s laughter rattled off the nearby trees as he took in her gluttonous expression, all while reaching into the bag and pulling out a wrapped confection.

  He dropped it into her outstretched palm and within seconds, the sour cherry compote tingled her tongue. Her eyes rolled skyward. “Virtues, I will miss this.”

  “Cetachi has never been known for its cuisine.” George chewed on a pastry of his own.

  Jax sighed. “I hope I haven’t thrown poor Darian to the wolves.”

  George stopped his pacing, planting himself right in front of her. “Darian wouldn’t have gone along with your plans if he didn’t think he could handle it. He’s a much stronger leader than you give him credit for, you know.”

  His rebuke was light, but she still bristled. “He’s never been tested like this before. Why, half the realm’s leaders weren’t even present when we voted on Cetachi’s dukedom.”

  “You’re absolutely right.” A wry smile curled on George’s lips. “All he had to contend with back then were a host of pompous courtiers, a back-stabbing Warden, a deranged killer, and a Duke threatening to usurp his power before he’d even been granted it.” He dusted the buttery crumbs from his hands. “I dare say this War Council will be a leisurely stroll compared to the last summit gathering we all attended.”

  A giggle bubbled out of her throat before she could contain it, and for a moment, a crushing weight lifted off her chest. Tears sprang to her amethyst eyes and she quickly wiped them away, unsure if they were from her fit of laughter or from the panic lurking just beneath the surface. “I must say,” she began after regaining her composure, “I’m surprised to hear you defend Darian so adamantly. You’re usually the more critical one when it comes to assessing our allies.” Again, the word “our” toppled warmly off her tongue.

  George shrugged. “I suppose out of all Saphire’s allies, I believe Darian’s conviction in our goals to be the most sincere.”

  Jax turned and hoisted herself onto Mortimer’s back without assistance, eager to be on their way. George’s unspoken concerns about Saphire’s other allies hung ominously over her head like a heavy thundercloud.

  “Do you not trust that our other friends believe in the ideals we fight for?” she asked after they’d been riding for a time, unable to contain her roiling nerves any longer. If George suspected a traitor amongst their bonded duchies…

  George slowed his mount’s gait but did not turn to face her as he spoke. “I won’t lie to you, Jax. I am concerned about the strength of our alliance.”

  Her stomach clenched. “Who do you doubt?”

  “Hestes.”

  His quick admission surprised her. The Duchy of Hestes had been a strong trading partner of Saphire, always backing Jax and her predecessors in the political arena. “What makes you doubt Florian’s commitment to our cause?”

  George glanced over his shoulder, his dark eyes gleaming in the starlight twinkling overhead. “The man’s entire world has been turned upside down, Jax.”

  His soft tone stirred her temper. “I understand Duke Hestes suffered a terrible personal loss,” she said through gritted teeth. She had been devastated when she’d received the news over two months ago. The Crown Prince of Hestes and his sisters had been entertaining at sea when their vessel was caught in a deadly autumn squall. There had been no survivors. Having met Florian’s children many times during her travels, Jax mourned the loss of such bright, young souls. The Hestian Crown Prince would have grown to be a fine ruler: fair and just, much like his father.

  George shook his head, and Jax heard him sigh. “The man has lost his entire family, his duchy’s future. I worry what that may do to his ability to lead rationally. Not everyone can lock their feelings behind impenetrable hearts like you can, Jax.”

  He may as well have slapped her across the face. She opened her mouth to combat his verbal attack, but nothing came out. His tone hadn’t been bitter or cruel…no, it had been laced with nothing but pity.

  The wintry silence stretched on between them.

  “I’m sorry.” George directed his horse to stop, forcing Jax to do the same. “I didn’t mean—I know how hard you strive to separate your personal feelings from your duty to Saphire.”

  Tears burned at the corners of her regal eyes, struggling to contain the very torrent of emotions she’d been trained so hard to suppress. She couldn’t be mad at him, for George spoke only the truth. She had been honed from a very early age by her parents and tutors to bury her true feelings under a stoic, poised Duchess of Saphire mask. For a long, long time, she had been very good at erecting that wall. Yet, Jax suspected her stony façade had gained a few cracks of late.

  She swallowed back everything she longed to say to the wounded man in front of her. “I shall make sure to seek out Florian after we arrive at Fort Vyndheim.” She forced a tired smile across her lips. “To assess his state of mind.”

  Roaming shadows of night stretched across George’s face, obscuring his reaction. She watched as he straightened in his saddle and urged his mare forward. As she followed, she wondered, and not for the first time, whether Captain George Solomon regretted rejecting her offer to set him free, to release him of the oath he’d made when he’d joined the Ducal Guard as a sixteen-year-old lad.

  ‡

  They rode the horses hard all night, and as the sun twinkled its greeting on the eastern horizon, Jax and George’s efforts were rewarded. Pettraud’s border stretched ahead of them in the dawn. Through the morning mists, Jax spied one of the duchy’s many mountain ranges peeking through heavy clouds, a sign they were nearing their rendezvous.

  For security measures, since Jax could not travel to the War Council with an armed envoy, George had arranged for lodging at Pettraudian garrisons peppered along their northern route before crossing the border into Cetachi. Perry and his selected escort awaited their arrival at the first checkpoint, only a few miles from where they were now.

  George called over his shoulder, “Once we rendezvous with Perry, we’ll rest the horses for a few hours, and then set off to the next garrison. If all goes acc
ording to plan, we’ll arrive in Cetachi tomorrow evening.”

  Jax didn’t respond, keeping her focus on Mortimer’s galloping gait as she admired the beautiful black stallion’s endurance. His legendary breed was renowned for its bountiful stamina. She was glad her father had purchased one of the rare Crepsta steeds as a gift for George when he was appointed Captain of the Ducal Guard, for his mount was easily able to keep pace with her now. Mortimer had been a present from Duke Crepsta for her eighteenth birthday, back before the days when the Duke’s traitorous nephew had threatened the realm’s peace by murdering Jax’s parents with the help of Jax’s childhood friend.

  Stroking his raven mane with encouragement, Jax leaned forward in her saddle, racing Mortimer onward toward her awaiting husband. We’ll be together soon, my love.

  Less than an hour later, George held out his arm, directing Jax to slow their pace. The imposing stone walls of a gnarled Pettraudian garrison full of foreign soldiers loomed ahead, casting a vaguely threatening shadow over them.

  Jax knew there was nothing to fear—she was their Duke’s wife, after all—but for George’s sake, she slowed, allowing him to make the appropriate signals to the sentries as they approached.

  A horn sounded in one of the twisted towers, and the thick, iron gates barring the entrance creaked open in welcome as they dismounted. Jax barely had time to adjust to the solid ground when a figure darted through the entryway, arms nearly crushing her as she was swept off her feet.

  “Thank the Virtues you’ve made it.” Perry’s lips murmured against her ear, sending spasms of warmth through her sore and tired body.

  She collapsed against his solid frame, her hands grasping frantically to hold onto him, for fear he might slip away. Burying her face in the crook of his neck, she inhaled his calming scent. “Hello, my love,” were the only words the lump in her throat allowed her to utter.

  He held her, and for a moment, Jax forgot they stood in the shadows of a military garrison, the fate of the realm’s fragile peace only a day or two ahead of them.

  Her fingers found their way to his soft, dark curls, her chest tightening at how much she missed the simple act of running her hands through her husband’s unruly hair. “I see you still haven’t cut it since I last saw you.” She chuckled, twirling one of the tendrils that now hung past his broad shoulders.

  Perry shrugged, a sheepish grin enveloping his sharp, gorgeous features. “There hasn’t been much time for personal vanity these days, I’m afraid.”

  Jax’s brow furrowed with worry. “I thought the unrest had been settled,” she said, referring to the noble houses who’d voiced opposition against the duchy’s new socio-economic structure.

  Guilt blossomed in Perry’s lavender eyes. “It seems House Parvahlan hasn’t gone away as quietly as I’d hoped.” The noble Pettraudian family had defected to Beautraud when Perry had introduced the new regulations concerning taxes and elected premiers.

  George cleared his throat, reminding Jax he was there. “Are they making trouble?” he asked in greeting, stepping forward to give Perry a firm handshake.

  Perry nodded, clapping George affectionately on the back. “It’s unclear whether or not he is doing so under the direction of Duke Beautraud, but several of the High Lords have informed me Earl Parvahlan has written to them, trying to convince them to follow in his footsteps.”

  A growl gurgled in Jax’s chest.

  “I suspect,” Perry said with a sigh, “Earl Parvahlan has written to all the noble houses, but only those truly loyal to Pettraud have come forward with the news.”

  George folded his arms across his chest. “You think the others who haven’t told you about Parvahlan’s correspondence will also defect?”

  Perry scoffed. “They’d be foolish to do so. You must be aware of the grain shortage in Beautraud?” He eyed Jax questioningly.

  “Of course. Since Saphire and Mensina have ceased all trade with Beautraud, their grain stores are woefully understocked.” Jax let her gaze trail off through the icy forest surrounding the garrison. “Beautraud is already struggling to keep its citizens fed and warm this winter. I can’t imagine why the Duke would want to encourage more bodies within his borders.” Her heart clenched as she pictured the suffering Beautraudian masses, their livelihood threatened due to their Duke’s decision to aid and support her enemies.

  “Beautraud wants their wealth. Simple as that.” Perry ran a hand through his own curls, trying to contain them in the chilly breeze. “And he thinks by coaxing them away from Pettraud, my own coffers will suffer.”

  Jax’s heart warmed with hope. “But from your tone, it sounds like he may be mistaken.”

  At that, a devilishly handsome grin spread across Perry’s lips. “Indeed. With all taxes going directly to the duchy’s treasury, Pettraud’s economy is stronger than ever. An amazing feat for such a short period of time.”

  Jax grew quiet with reflection. “Do you think any of the High Lords will still be tempted?”

  “Well…” Perry’s cheeks colored slightly. “I probably haven’t been as strict with my mandates as Saphire has been. I’ve approved each house a sizable grant to help their estates make it through the winter. I suppose that’s helped me stay in favor.”

  Jax frowned at his admission. “If you coddle them, Perry, they will never learn. And it certainly doesn’t improve things for those who are of common birth.” She cringed internally, as she was trying to rid herself the habit of distinguishing people based on their bloodline, but with the way things still were in the realm, it was hard to do outside her own duchy’s borders. “They’ve gone from paying taxes to the nobles, who then send a portion of that gold to the Crown, to paying the Crown, who then sends the gold to the nobles. Don’t you see? The cycle hasn’t been broken.”

  Perry stiffened at her reprimand and stepped away from her side. “I am doing what is best for the stability of Pettraud. If all the High Lords departed because they felt betrayed by the Crown, then who would be left to manage their estates?”

  Jax rolled her eyes. “Virtues, Perry, have you been listening to anything I’ve said in the past year? If your High Lords aren’t up to the task of running their businesses and profiting from their own ventures, then your other citizens will rise to the challenge. Why, a shrewd Saphirian merchant purchased the Burgess lands and doubled the quarry’s profit in a single quarter.”

  A hand cupped her elbow. “Jax, perhaps you should set aside matters of state for now,” George whispered in her ear, sending a knowing look at Perry’s back.

  Until now, Jax hadn’t fully registered that her husband had turned and moved several feet away from her while she had been berating him. Virtues, we’ve been reunited for all of five minutes, and I’ve already made him feel unworthy of his crown. With a grateful glance at George, Jax swallowed her temper. She should know better than to openly criticize her husband’s decisions made as Pettraud’s sovereign.

  The secret exchange between Jax and Lord Cornelius, Perry’s father, made mere hours after Perry’s coronation, haunted her memory. “You are the one I’m really entrusting my legacy to, Jacqueline. Perry may be the sovereign in ceremony, but you and I both knew the minute I said his name you would really be leading the way. That boy will do anything you ask of him. He’s in so over his head, he’s barely treading water.”

  Lord Cornelius’s harsh declaration battered against the shackles in her mind. Jax tried to forget the true reason Perry had been chosen over his five remaining brothers to lead Pettraud in his father’s stead, but the conversation kept fighting its way to the forefront of her thoughts. One thing was for sure: Perry must never know that the only reason he sat on the throne was due to her being his wife. It would destroy him to know he had never truly had his father’s confidence. And she wasn’t helping matters by publicly rebuking him for what he believed to be the right thing.

  Jax rushed to Perry’s side, placing her palm on his shoulder. “Forgive my outburst, dearest. I’ve been riding all
night. My mind is simply in tatters.” She threaded her arm through his, relieved he relaxed under her touch. “Would you show me to my quarters?”

  Perry’s gaze lingered longingly over her face. “Of course, my darling.” He seductively lowered his voice. “I dearly wish we had time for more than just rest.” A lusty twinkle danced in his lavender eyes.

  A light chuckle escaped her lips as Perry led her inside the garrison walls, yet she found herself glancing over her shoulder at George, who walked behind them with the horses in tow. His dedication to their friendship never wavered. Why, he could have let her continue to put her foot in her mouth and drive a wedge between her and Perry. Yet, George had come to her rescue, as he never failed to do.

  As she turned her attention forward, inside the garrison courtyard stood another familiar figure waiting to welcome them.

  “Ivan!” Jax beamed at one of her many brothers-in-law.

  The Captain of the Pettraud Ducal Guard bowed at his waist before breaking protocol and giving Jax a familial squeeze. “You didn’t think I’d let Perry have all the fun, now, did you?”

  Jax smiled warmly as she assessed the soldier before her. Ivan could have been Perry’s light-haired twin, except Ivan had chopped his blond curls close to his head. While his lavender eyes were bright and alert, Jax noticed deepening lines etched in the areas of his face that had been smooth only a handful of months before. “How are you doing, dear brother?”

  Ivan clapped a hand on Perry’s shoulder. “Much better, now that I don’t have to listen to this sod whine about how much he misses his lady love.”

  Perry knocked his brother’s hand aside. “Is that any way to address your Duke?” he teased.

  With a roll of his eyes, Ivan turned his attention to Jax and George. “That joke hasn’t gotten old.”