Crown of Chaos

by Sarah E. Burr

  Jax laughed politely at Ivan’s sarcastic remark, but wondered how the rest of the Pettraud clan was adjusting to Perry’s new role in the family. As the youngest of seven brothers, no one had ever expected Perry to inherit the Crown of Pettraud. She prayed to the Virtues that none of Perry’s siblings had grown to resent their youngest brother for the power he now lorded over them.

  As George passed their horses off to an awaiting stable hand, he greeted Ivan with a salute. “I’d like to ensure the Duchess rests before we set out again,” he said, wasting no time getting their accommodations in order.

  Ivan returned the curt greeting with a nod. “Of course. Apologies, Duchess, that you won’t be living in the lap of luxury whilst here, but I’ve had a steward prepare rooms for you and Captain Solomon.”

  Jax waved a hand and tossed George a shrewd look. “Please, there is no need to stand on such formality, Ivan. We’ll be surrounded by all that pompous nonsense soon enough.” She gathered her skirts and let Perry escort her to the main hall of the garrison. She stroked a finger along her husband’s arm, eager to put aside all thoughts of the upcoming War Council. “How are your other brothers doing, my love? And Hendrie?”

  Perry pulled her close, sheltering her from a gust of bitter wind that accompanied them inside as they stepped over the threshold into the gloomy hallway. “Everyone is doing well, considering the shadow looming over the realm. Isaiah is back to his duties as Head Scholar, what with the Academy’s doors still closed.”

  Jax nodded. Her friend Lady Carriena, a professor at the realm’s famed institution, still remained home in Saphire. “Carriena heard from the headmaster recently. He hopes to reopen its doors in the spring.”

  Perry’s lips twitched. “You really think the world will be set right by then?”

  “With the Virtues’ guidance, I pray it will.” She leaned her head on Perry’s shoulder as the dark halls of the garrison tugged at her eyelids. “If the War Council does not end amicably, our war on Savant and his allies must be swift. I will not allow the bloodshed to drag on, simply because the man refuses to bend to progress and equality.” Damn, it seems all conversations lead back to the War Council. She cleared her throat, intent on not speaking more about the topic for now. “So, Isaiah is home. What of the others? How is Galahad adjusting to his new post in Cetachi?”

  Perry chuckled. “He and Father are doing quite well. They helped Darian make many of the arrangements for the War Council, although they have been very tight-lipped about what I can expect.”

  “As they should be. They do serve Darian’s court now,” Jax gently reminded her husband. While blood ties were important to the realm’s royal families, loyalty to one’s duchy surpassed even bloodlines. Jax’s own aunt was Darian’s fiancée, yet she’d heard nothing about the more finite details of the War Council, other than what Darian had sent each of the ducal leaders.

  Perry sighed. “I just wish we knew what we were walking into.”

  “We’ll find out soon enough, dearest,” Jax said, patting his arm. “Now, how is Hendrie doing?”

  The mention of Perry’s valet and longtime friend brought a bittersweet smile to his lips. “He’s doing well, or as well as his bruised ego will allow.”

  Jax snorted. “I do feel bad for the poor lad, but he didn’t do himself any favors by treating Uma the way he did.”

  “Something he bitterly regrets.” Perry slowed as they reached the end of a long passage. “While I’m happy she has found someone who cherishes her, I can’t help but wish she’d given my friend another chance.”

  Jax loosed a long breath. “Uma gave Hendrie plenty of opportunities to make his feelings known. Sadly, we often don’t know what we really want until it’s gone.” Her eyes flickered to the other end of the hallway, where Ivan was showing George his makeshift quarters. “I only hope he will be civil the next time we are all together.”

  Perry’s expression darkened. “Of course. Hendrie is ever the professional,” he said defensively.

  “Good. I know Uma is looking forward to seeing him again, as a friend.”

  “If only they were allowed to accompany us on this journey, Hendrie and Uma could have cleared the air right here and now.”

  Jax nodded her agreement. As much as she had hated parting from her dear friend and lady-in-waiting, the War Council protocol did not allow for Uma’s attendance. Instead, Jax had placed her in charge of overseeing the upkeep of the Saphirian palace, knowing her home was in the most capable of hands. It also heartened Jax that Uma would not have to be separated from her beau, Yanis, a junior member of the Ducal Guard who had been courting her since the autumn months.

  Jax had also been forced to leave behind her lady’s maid and new friend Lady Sabine Arceneaux, as the mandates of the War Council required the sovereigns to travel alone, save for their one selected escort. Without her lady’s maid and lady-in-waiting at her side, Jax would be required to fend for herself for the first time since she could remember. As much as Jax missed the presence of her friends, she found these restrictive mandates to be quite freeing. The War Council protocol was nothing if not humbling, reminding the leaders of the realm of their own humility.

  Perry’s hand pushed the creaking door inward, revealing a space just big enough for a bed and two chairs. A small window was cut into the stone wall, revealing the light of day struggling against the oppressive Pettraud fog. “It’s not much, but the bed is comfortable enough.”

  Jax pulled her cloak tighter around her shivering shoulders. She eyed the pile of furs lining the bed, hoping they’d be enough to keep the chilly air at bay.

  Perry must have noticed her wariness, for he shrugged off his own fur-lined cloak and tossed it on one of the chairs. “I know this room doesn’t have a fireplace, but there are other ways a husband might keep his wife warm.” As he stepped toward the bed, his fingers reached for the lacing of his tunic.

  “I thought we didn’t have time for more than a quick rest?” She coyly raised her brows.

  He leaned in, his lips brushing along her exposed collarbone. “I think we can afford a few minutes to properly reacquaint ourselves with one another.”

  Her worries evaporated as a lusty warmth spread through her body, reminding her of how desperately she had missed the feeling of her husband’s body pressed against hers. As Perry pulled his tunic over his head to reveal a sculpted chest, Jax shut the door behind her with a snap and followed her husband to the bed.

  Chapter Three

  She awoke, savoring the touch of her husband’s arm pressed against her bare skin. How she missed waking up with him by her side each day. Turning over to face Perry’s sleeping figure, Jax gently traced a fingertip along the curves of his face, so as not to wake him. Despite riding much of the night, she’d been more than eager to share some quiet intimacy with her husband, but unfortunately, sleep had claimed them both much sooner than she would have preferred. And now, judging by the intensity of the sun filtering in through the window, they’d have to forsake their little haven and resume their journey north.

  Jax begrudgingly rolled out of bed and retrieved her saddlebag, which had been placed outside her door by one of the garrison’s stable hands. She dug out fresh clothes and quickly laced up her gown and cloak with deft fingers. A rueful smirk inched across her chapped lips. Be careful what you wish for. As a young girl, Jax had longed for independence when it came to taking care of herself. Even after she’d grown into an adult and assumed the throne of Saphire, Jax had never expected her lady’s maid to be at her beck and call all the time to dress her. While she didn’t mind tending to her own needs, she found herself now wishing dearly for not only Uma and Sabine’s company, but that of the fiery Vita Bellarose. The daughter of a former Savantian lord, Vita had served Jax faithfully until she had become a pawn of the despicable Duke Savant. While Jax had forgiven Vita for her wrongdoings, the young woman had been sent to serve in a House of Virtue to assist those less fortunate. There were many times when Jax fo
und herself wondering if sending Vita away had been a mistake, but the young lady wrote the palace often, informing Jax she was content and grateful for all Jax had done to secure her family’s safety.

  House Bellarose was not the only noble family seeking asylum from the growing war. While Jax’s new policies had caused tension among the high houses of Saphire, each knew Jax would go to the ends of the earth to protect her people and keep them out of harm’s way. The same could not be said for the Duchies of Savant and Beautraud. Through her network of spies, Jax had managed to learn both Dukes were bleeding their coffers dry in preparation for an assault on Saphire. Hearing these reports from her courtiers left Jax wondering if there was any point to the War Council at all, given that her enemies were readying their ducal forces to rival her great army. Whatever outcome stemmed from the days ahead, Jax had prepared Saphire as best she could. Whatever the threat, her duchy would face it.

  As she secured her tangled hair in a loose braid, Jax felt her resolve grow. She had some of the realm’s most skilled military strategists at her disposal. Plans had been put into motion to protect Saphire and secure a swift victory. She only needed to make it out of the War Council alive.

  Prepared for what lay ahead, Jax stirred her husband from his slumber with a kiss. “My love, we must make haste. Darian is expecting us to arrive tomorrow by nightfall.”

  ‡

  Jax pulled at the ties fastening her cloak, letting the suffocating fabric drop from her shoulders. The humid air offered little relief. As her amethyst gaze traveled upward along the imposing sight before her, she marveled at the existence of such a thing.

  Mount Ustrina towered over their approaching group, a masterpiece of natural wonders. Jax had never seen a volcano before. Having grown up hearing tales from her father about mountains that spat fire, it seemed like something unearthly and fanciful. Yet, the fiery mountain glowed in the distance, warming the craggy land for miles. When Darian had issued the formal invitation to the War Council, he’d explained the summit would be held at Fort Vyndheim, located in the warm shadows of Mount Ustrina.

  “Hard to believe that not five miles ago, we were surrounded by snow.” Perry edged his steed alongside Mortimer, taking in the sight with wary awe.

  Jax nodded, her focus returning to the volcano ahead. “I see now why Darian wished to host the War Council here.” She gave a sidelong look at her husband. “Winter’s bitter reach will not touch us.”

  Perry wiped sweat dripping from his dark curls. “I didn’t exactly pack for this type of climate.”

  George joined them as they gazed across the volcanic valley. “Fort Vyndheim is further to the south, on the edge of Mount Ustrina’s domain.” His grip tightened on the reins as he steadied his nervous horse. “Which I’m thankful for. I’d hate to be nearby if Ustrina ever awakens.”

  Jax snorted. “Wouldn’t that be just our luck. Let’s hope Savant hasn’t somehow orchestrated for the mountain to erupt.” She pressed her lips together, hoping such a feat wasn’t possible.

  George glanced her way. “Darian would never put you in harm’s way like that even if such a thing were possible. He knows you are the champion the realm needs.”

  “Well,” Jax said, urging Mortimer down the trail, “let’s hope we can convince the other leaders of the same.”

  An hour later, the towering ramparts of Fort Vyndheim appeared through a dense thicket of ashen trees. Built from a strong, luminous stone, the structure appeared to shimmer in the dying sunlight. While sifting through ancient correspondence written by her ancestor Allonius Xavier, Jax had learned Fort Vyndheim was one of the oldest fortresses in the realm, constructed as a strategic outpost for the rebel army during the war that led to the Rebirth. Once the tyrannical priests of the Ancient Faith were overthrown and the Realm of Virtues was established, the area known as Cetachi disintegrated into a wild territory, untouched and untamed for centuries. Mostly made up of nomadic tribes, small civilized communities had sprung up over the past five decades, yearning for prosperity and progress to come to the region. Under Darian Fangard’s leadership, the newest duchy in the realm grew stronger by the day.

  Perry whistled as he, Jax, Ivan, and George slowly approached the massive barrier. “Impressive.”

  “It’s stood for over five hundred years.” Jax admired the glistening stone’s brilliance after all this time. Moonstone was an incredibly valuable material, found only in the mountain ranges of Cetachi. Due to the region’s notoriously unstable history, the other nations in the realm shied away from acquiring moonstone, unwilling to encounter the risks that venturing over Cetachi’s border once posed. Seeing the stunning rock up close left Jax a bit envious of its glittering beauty.

  “Halt!” A sharp command cracked through the air.

  Startled, Jax placed a soothing hand on Mortimer’s neck, trying to spot the source of the call.

  George and Ivan had both dismounted their horses, gleaming swords at the ready.

  “Identify yourselves,” the bellowing voice ordered.

  Jax spied a small hatch in the middle of the solid, iron door barring the entrance of Fort Vyndheim. Whoever was speaking to them did so from inside the walls of the fort.

  George cleared his voice, lowering his weapon only slightly. “Announcing the arrival of Jacqueline Arienta Xavier, Duchess of Saphire and the Isla DeLacqua Isles, and Duke Percival Pettraud.” He stood tall. “Their Majesties are accompanied by Captain Ivan Pettraud and myself, Captain George Solomon.”

  The walls of Fort Vyndheim remained silent until a barking order shattered the stillness. “Prepare for inspection!”

  Jax wrinkled her nose as she met George’s irritated gaze. “What’s going on?”

  He came to her side, holding Mortimer steady by the reins. “Dismount, please, and stay behind me.” He held his palm open, willing her to take it.

  Jax slipped her fingers around his as she slid off Mortimer’s back. “What kind of welcome is this?” she joked, but the fear in George’s eyes cut short any further conversation.

  Perry climbed down from his horse and stood behind Ivan, looking less than pleased at his brother’s serving as a human shield. “What’s Darian playing at?”

  The earth beneath them shuddered as the massive iron door swung inward, revealing the shadow of a large, imposing figure in the entryway.

  Jax’s stomach flipped, and she found herself clinging to George’s arm. “That’s not Darian.”

  Sword still in his right hand, George shifted on his feet. “I know you rarely listen to what I tell you to do, Jax, but for Virtues’ sake, stay behind me.”

  The figure moved with lethal grace as it strode out of the shadows cast by the towering barricade. Though the sun was barely a blotch on the horizon, its cool rays illuminated the warrior before them. Clad in a black and silver tunic with a blindingly polished chest plate, the man’s long, white hair blew across his scarred face. “Greetings, Duchess Saphire and Duke Pettraud. Welcome to the War Council.” He dipped his chin in reverence.

  Jax and Perry exchanged questioning glances, neither quite sure how to respond to this odd encounter. “Thank you…” Jax finally replied, unsure who she was even addressing.

  The stranger moved closer, reminding Jax of a predator stalking its prey. Despite his blindingly white hair, he could not have been older than forty, exuding power and vigor with every move. “Forgive my manners. It is not every day one comes face to face with one of the most powerful leaders in the realm.” He bowed again, this time at the waist. “I am Brath Egarhaven, Prelate of the Knights of Grace.”

  Jax’s eyes widened, and she heard both Perry and Ivan issue a sharp intake of breath. Did this man speak the truth? Was he really with the Knights of Grace? What in the Virtues have you done, Darian?

  Brath Egarhaven chuckled at their stunned reactions. “I seem to elicit the same response from each arrival. Please,” he paused, holding out a hand in the direction of the open gate, “why don’t we head inside?”
>
  George growled under his breath. “Forgive my manners, Sir Brath, but I am not inclined to lead the Duchess inside a fortress that is in the hands of mercenaries.”

  Jax tightened her grip on George’s arm, her knees trembling as she eyed Brath Egarhaven. She’d heard tales of the Knights of Grace when she was a young girl, told by her mother with grave caution. Once, long ago, the Knights of Grace had served as protectors of the realm, bound to the will of the Virtues, rather than the governance of a duchy. Of course, the ducal leaders despised their interference in matters they deemed under the jurisdiction of their respective duchies and sought to disband the Knights of Grace. Yet, the Knights of Grace seemed to be everywhere and anywhere, championing the downtrodden and rescuing those who had felt abandoned by the ducal justice system. Calls for the persecution of the Knights of Grace grew, as they became a law unto themselves. They were hunted by the duchies and forced underground to conduct their creed. The legends differed as to what had happened to the Knights after they were forced into hiding. Some say they disbanded, some say they were hunted to extinction, and the most chilling tales suggested the Knights of Grace turned their back on the Virtues and the people they swore to protect and were reborn as the Shadow Brethren, a notorious criminal organization with cells throughout the realm. Everything Jax had ever been told about the Knights of Grace was contradicted by the dignified man standing before her.

  Brath Egarhaven’s brassy eyes narrowed at George’s biting retort. “I understand your concern, Captain Solomon. Please know my warriors and I are sworn to protect and defend any and all who enter Fort Vyndheim during the duration of the War Council.”

  Ivan scoffed. “And we’re just supposed to take your word for it?”

  “Jacqueline!” a familiar voice sliced through the tension.

  Relief saturated Jax’s veins as she spotted Darian Fangard hurrying across the stretch of dirt and rock that separated their group from the fortress.