He pounded his fist against the stone, his frustration getting the better of him. Virtues, how was he supposed to protect her, locked up in here? What was happening inside the fortress? Why had Jax already summoned her crowned falcon? What had the War Council revealed that she already needed to alert the ducal forces stationed at Fort Uhstal?
A slight breeze shifted behind him, and George whirled toward the doorway, grabbing once more for his phantom sword.
“You shouldn’t worry so much, Captain Solomon.”
George squinted to make out the shrouded figure robed in shadow, leaning against the threshold. “Who are you?”
In response, a tall, lithe woman gracefully sauntered into his room, her voice a lilting purr as she stroked two threatening daggers hanging from her trim waist. “I am Acolyte Ziri Axesinger, the Knight of Grace assigned to protect your Duquessa.”
George swallowed, feeling the heat of her gaze roam over his body. “And how does your being here offer her any protection?” A layer of sweat beaded against his brow at the thought of Jax being left on her own. What was going on in that tower?
Ziri chuckled, seemingly amused by his curt attitude. “The by-laws of the War Council do not permit the admittance of bodyguards within the council chamber itself while the sovereigns are in session. I find myself with free time on my hands, as they have not yet recessed for the night.”
“And that’s supposed to make me feel better?” George growled at the young acolyte, who had to be at least eight years his junior.
She examined her nails, as if bored. “Since I believe the Duquessa is entirely capable of fending for herself, I saw no harm in relaying a message. She asked that I come speak with you, to convey words of reassurance that she is in good hands.” She gave him a pointed look. “I must say, I’ve never seen a member of a royal bloodline so invested in the wellbeing of a servant, let alone one of common birth.”
Bristling at her suggestive words, George clenched his fists. “Duchess Xavier is like no member of a royal bloodline you’ve met before.”
Ziri twirled her long, raven braid as she skirted around the shadows. “That remains to be seen.”
“You may have won Jax’s confidence already, but you have yet to win mine.” George moved closer to her, the startling, yet pleasant smell of orange blossoms caressing his senses.
Her dark gaze shimmered in the candlelight. “Oh…Jax, is it?”
He halted a foot in front of her, scorched embarrassment radiating from his cheeks. In his concern for his friend, he’d forgotten his true place. Here, he was the Captain of the Saphire Ducal Guard, a servant to the Crown. Nothing more.
Ziri slinked closer, but her teasingly coy attitude had vanished. Instead, she stood before him with a hardened stare, her attractive figure rigid with determination. “Then consider it my goal to earn your favor, Captain Solomon.”
The flickering shadows of the lone lantern hanging from the thatched ceiling danced across her face, allowing George the briefest glimpse of her true beauty. She was probably one of the most stunning women he’d ever met. The sharp edges of her cheekbones heightened the sensuous curve of her lips and neck. Yet, it was her bronze eyes, revealing her common-born heritage that captured him the most. Eyes brimming with intelligence, confidence, and strength. No doubt, Jax had seen the same noble bearing in the acolyte, which was why she had been so quick to trust her. Regardless of her tumultuous past friendships and broken loyalties, he truly believed Jax to be a good judge of character.
Ziri held his gaze a long while in silent pledge before retreating to the doorway. “I am needed back at the fortress.” She melted into the shadows lining the hallway outside his door, vanishing like a wraith.
As he watched her fade away, her dark, glimmering eyes still on him, something stirred in the lonely recesses of his chest, a stirring he had not experienced in a long, long time. Something about this woman intrigued him, and it was not just her breathtaking beauty. The haunted look in those bronze eyes made him yearn to know the stories of her past and how those events had led her here, as a Knight of Grace. The hint of a smile she shared as she left made him wonder—hope even—that she might be willing to share those stories with him one day. Virtues. He shook his head. Perhaps Ziri Axesinger might be capable of earning his favor, after all.
The door opposite his chambers opened, interrupting his reverie. “Who was that?”
George sighed as he met Ivan’s concerned gaze, the intriguing spell cast by Ziri broken. “The Knight assigned to Jax.”
“Is everything all right?” Ivan asked, his brow furrowed.
He shrugged. “According to the acolyte, the leaders are still in session, but something bad is up. Jax has already summoned her falcon.”
“Perhaps that’s a good thing,” Ivan offered. “Things must be happening if she’s taking action this early on.”
A throbbing pressure pulsed at the base of George’s neck. He didn’t share Ivan’s optimism. He and Jax had discussed at great length the scenarios in which her secret weapon, her crowned falcon, should be summoned. George’s stomach roiled with dark premonitions. Savant and his cronies must have done something to threaten Jax’s subjects directly. But so soon? The War Council had only just started.
“Oy!” came a call further down the hallway.
George moved quickly to the door and stuck his head out. He’d yet to see any of the others who’d been confined to the guardhouse besides Ivan.
“Can we get a deck o’ cards or somethin’?” a large, burly man bellowed, clearly trying to get the attention of their two sentries. “I’m about to die from boredom.”
Few torches lined the hall, but they gave off enough light for George to see that the owner of the robust voice wore the colors of Lysandeir. This must be Landon’s escort. The wiry, young red-haired Duke came to mind.
Murmuring whispers floated into his ears, drawing his attention back to their two sentries. Ending their short conversation with a curt nod, the shorter of the guards marched the length of the guardhouse, passing Ivan and George’s intrigued stares. The Knight of Grace slapped something into the palm of the Lysandeirian’s hand before hurriedly returning to his post.
“You lads want in?” The hulking man waved a hand in their direction.
Ivan glanced at George and shrugged. “Why not? Not exactly anything else we can really do, is there?”
While George longed to return to his post at the window, he knew Ivan spoke the truth. There was nothing he could do without breaking War Council protocol and throwing Jax into jeopardy. “Sure. Deal us in.”
George and Ivan joined the Lysandeirian in his chambers. He introduced himself as Aesir before motioning them to take a seat on the moonstone floor. He’d covered the stone with several furs, creating a rather homey space for such sparse quarters.
As George and Ivan got settled, Aesir managed to rustle up a few others. George recognized Captain Roche of the Mensina Ducal Guard and greeted him warmly. Theon, a member of Duchess Zaltor’s personal guard, and Cormac, Duke Henrik Crepsta’s escort, joined the game as well.
While the cards were dealt, George took stock of his opponents. He knew Mensina and Crepsta were lifelong allies of Saphire, but he had reservations about playing with one of Duchess Zaltor’s men. Jax had long speculated the Duchess would side with Savant in the growing conflict, yet her allegiance had not been formally declared. Perhaps while they played, he could try to get a read on where the duchy stood, not that the reconnaissance work would do Jax any good now.
However, they were only two games in when Prelate Brath’s massive form filled the doorway. “Excuse me, gentlemen, but I am afraid you must all return to your assigned quarters for the night.”
Aesir snorted. “Aye, ain’t no one tellin’ me when I go to bed.”
The prelate maintained his cool composure. “You are certainly allowed to stay up as long as you’d like, Captain Aesir. Be that as it may, you are all required by War Council protocol to return to
your quarters for the night. The sovereigns all must adhere to this curfew, as well. It is for everyone’s safety.”
From the grumblings all around him, George was not alone in his disdain for these mysterious War Council rules. I wish Darian had never unearthed them. He sighed as he shuffled out of the cramped room with the others.
He returned to his quarters, where a small tray of cured meat, cheese, and fruit sat on his bed. While nerves subdued his hunger, George forced himself to eat what was provided. He needed to keep up his strength, should Jax need him. Virtues, I hope she’s safe.
As he lay on the straw mattress, wishing he were inside the moonstone fortress alongside the woman he’d sworn away his life to protect, George prayed Ziri Axesinger was a warrior of her word and would keep his beloved queen safe.
‡
He wasn’t sure what woke him first: the shouts or the smell of smoke.
Wiping sleep from his eyes and locking away his favorite dream for another lonely night, George threw back the thin blanket covering him and leapt from his bed. Burning ash assaulted his nostrils, coating the back of his throat. Coughing out the poisonous fumes, he sprang into action, having trained for such scenarios during his early days with the Ducal Guard. Grabbing his discarded shirt, he wrapped it around his hand before reaching for the brass doorknob. It was cool to the touch, so at least the source of the smoke had not reached his room.
Wrenching open the door, George pulled on his shirt and surveyed the chaotic scene in the hall. Several Knights of Grace dashed by, arms full of sloshing water buckets.
The shouts came from every direction. “Fire! Get out!”
George bounded across the hall, bursting into Ivan’s room. The Pettraudian captain was half-dressed, struggling to pull a tunic over his head.
“Is the main fortress safe?” Ivan asked the question George, too, needed the answer to.
George urged him to hurry. “We need to find out.”
The two raced down the corridor to the guardhouse entrance, fighting against the current of Knights storming the building. As they exited into the cool Cetachi night, pails were thrust into their chests.
“The well’s that way.”
Prelate Brath’s unusually calm exterior did little to soothe George’s concerns. “Are the sovereigns safe?”
The prelate scoffed as he tossed another bucket at George. “It’s not their bunkhouse burning down, is it?”
A minor wave of relief washed over him. She’s safe for now.
Ivan tugged at his arm. “Come on, we need to get the blaze under control.” His lavender eyes flickered to the guardhouse, drawing George’s attention to the growing flames.
Raging orange fire licked at the thatched roof top, bursting from several windows near the back of the building. As he and Ivan hurried toward the well to wait for their buckets to be filled by a harried acolyte, George lowered his voice. “Was anyone assigned to those rooms? Any of the escorts?”
Ivan shrugged. “I don’t know. I didn’t pay much attention to where everyone returned after our card game was broken up.”
George concealed his disappointed frown from the Pettraudian Captain, as he didn’t want to offend his friend. He’d at least managed to memorize the room assignments of those they’d met while playing cards. Aesir’s room was four rooms down from his own. Roche was next door to Ivan, Cormac was directly across from Aesir, and Theon was in the room to the left of Cormac’s. With that in mind, George found the window to his own room and began to count, the pressure at the base of his neck increasing with every moment. Virtues, it looked like the flames burned fiercest from Aesir’s window. Had the blaze started in his room? He prayed the surly Lysandeirian was okay.
A heavy bucket was thrust into George’s hands, the water sloshing over the edge and soaking the front of his tunic.
“Get moving,” the acolyte who’d handed him the pail yelled. “We can’t let the fire spread to any of the other structures.”
Nodding absently, George hurried, propping the bucket on his shoulder as he ran toward the guardhouse. A quick count revealed at least six other buildings within the immediate vicinity of the guardhouse. If the fire spread to them, it would only be a matter of time before the whole courtyard went up in flames.
George quickly scanned the compound’s main tower, confirming with his own eyes that Jax was out of harm’s way, at least for now. Its thick, stone exterior would prevent the fire from assaulting its inhabitants, but a dark threat still loomed in his mind. He knew how Jax’s mind worked. If she got wind there was a fire in the courtyard and she believed him to be in trouble, she’d give no thought to her own safety and come after him. Virtues, please watch over my queen.
With that, he rushed headlong at the ravenous flames to protect the woman he loved.
Chapter Seven
Jax’s eyelids flew open at the echoes of a thunderous crash. What was that?
Beside her, Perry stirred, his question a mumbled yawn. “Jax? You all right?”
She was already out of bed, tugging on her dressing gown. “I’m fine, but I think I hear shouting outside.” She rushed to her window and pulled it open, unmuting the commotion. While she couldn’t make out much activity near the eastern wing of the tower, she plainly heard commanding cries coming from somewhere in the southern courtyard. Along the ramparts encompassing the perimeter of Fort Vyndheim, orange and red shadows danced, creating a frightful mural. “Virtues, I think there’s a fire somewhere on the compound, Perry!”
That had him leaping from bed. “In our tower?” He cradled her elbow, pulling her toward the door without waiting for her answer.
They scrambled into a silent hallway. “It doesn’t seem like it.” Jax wrinkled her nose at the eerie quiet.
Perry sniffed. “I don’t smell smoke, either.”
“It must be one of the outer buildings…” Jax trailed off in relief before a blinding fear seized her. “George! He’s stationed somewhere outside. What if the fire is coming from his building?”
An arm wrapped around her trembling shoulder as Perry pulled her close. “I’m sure he’s all right. Knowing George, he probably set it himself so he would be given a room inside the main tower to be closer to you.”
Jax found no humor in Perry’s little joke. “Come on. We must find out what’s happening.”
She didn’t wait for her husband as she gathered the skirt of her nightgown and hastened down the corridor. The flickering torches had long burned out, leaving the glowing moonstone to provide the only light in the hall. Jax’s keen gaze swept up and down the central corridor, which Ziri had informed her wound around the entire first floor of the fortress. No one else appeared to be out of their rooms.
Perry, now dressed, appeared at her side. “Do you think we should wake the others?”
Jax debated a moment before answering. Her grandfather and Landon had overindulged themselves on mead during their subdued dinner party earlier in the evening, and most likely needed a full night’s sleep for the effects of the alcohol to wear off. “Let them rest for now. It’s clear the threat isn’t within the main fortress itself.” She waved a hand, emphasizing the stillness all around. “For one, our personal guards and the hallway sentries are nowhere to be seen. They must be helping contain the blaze, wherever it is.”
With a reluctant nod, Perry fell into step next to her. “Perhaps we should return to our rooms and let the Knights of Grace handle the issue. That’s what Darian hired them for, right?”
Jax flashed her husband an annoyed look. “Virtues, dearest, you think I’d be able to sleep knowing something is amiss? Our friends might be in trouble.”
His shoulders sagged as he sighed laboriously. “I thought it was worth a try. But can we really risk this, Jax? Our allies expect you to be in top form tomorrow morning, once the War Council resumes.”
“Then let us hurry and make sure George and your brother are all right,” Jax snapped. She’d never known Perry to place duty over his compassion for
others. Maybe her husband had learned a thing or two about the political arena, although she wasn’t sure she liked it.
Perry opened his mouth to respond, but must have thought better of it, for he pursed his lips firmly together.
A veil of tension lingered over them as they made their way in silence toward the front of the fortress. The long passageway emptied out into the great entrance hall, still lit brightly with burning torches. With surer footing, Jax picked up speed, running to the main entryway at the end of the long chamber. The closed gates were a mirror opposite of the grand hall’s massive bronze doors on the far side of the huge foyer. Remembering how easily Ziri Axesinger had opened the grand hall’s doors, Jax pulled on the tower’s gates, hoping for the same effect. They did not budge.
“Let me help.” Perry came to her side to lend his weight to the effort.
The gates inched open, and after a few heaving attempts, they’d created enough of a gap to slip through.
At the end of the arching, open-ended passage ahead of the gate, Jax spotted the first sign of life since leaving her chambers.
“Ziri!” she cried breathlessly, noticing the young warrior standing on the tower landing, gazing at whatever sights stretched out before her.
The Knight of Grace turned, surprise written all over her face. “Duquessa!” She quickly recovered, her expression morphing to a scowl. “You should return to your room immediately. And lock your door.”
“What’s going on?” Perry asked before Jax could ask the same.
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