Sins of Basilia (Shrouded Thrones Book 4)

by Jeanne Hardt

  “You will never sit on my throne,” she hissed into Varlan’s ear. “Did you not know, I am the prophesied queen? The reign of kings is over.”

  He struggled ever-so-slightly beneath her, but she held firm. “I will send your little trollop back to Thanwine, so she can tell of your death.”

  His body trembled and he attempted to breathe through his nose. He even appeared to have tears in his eyes. “Hmm…” Varlan had never been known to cry. Blood bubbled out of his mouth and seeped through Angeline’s fingers.

  Denali wiped the knife clean, then pulled down Varlan’s tunic and recovered the wound. “He does not have long.”

  Angeline evaluated his condition. Cautiously, she removed her hand and stepped away from him. He tried to speak, but more blood oozed from his mouth. All he accomplished was bothersome gurgling.

  No longer did he pose a threat.

  She smiled at her dear Denali, then draped herself across her brother and forced a series of sobs. “Varlan!”

  The door flew open, Crispa ran in, and rushed to her place beside him. “What happened?”

  “His wound was graver than I previously determined,” Denali said. “I fear I cannot save him.”

  “Varlan!” Crispa took his face in her hands. “Do not die!”

  He gurgled and emitted raspy sounding groans. His blood flowed steadily, soaking poor Denali’s bedding. At least he had somewhere else to lay his head tonight.

  Along with her best frown, Angeline slowly rose. She, too, was covered in blood. “It is so unfair,” she sobbed. “We were discussing his becoming high king, and he suddenly let out the most horrific moan. When Denali checked his wound, he found it open and readily seeping blood.”

  “I loved him,” Crispa cried. “I hold no shame in telling you.” She returned her attention to Varlan and stroked his sweaty head. “I will see you again in the afterlife.” The girl wailed as if she had been the one pierced.

  Angeline sniffled. “Will you return him to Thanwine and tell how the Orosians ended him?”

  Crispa’s face puckered, but she nodded. “And I will spread his ashes on the mountains of Thanwine that he so loved.” She swiped a hand across her damp cheek. “What are we to do? Thanwine has no other king.”

  The instant the words left her mouth, Varlan took his last breath. His body jerked, then completely stilled.

  Angeline gazed lovingly at him and cupped her hand over his head. “Be at peace, Brother.”

  Crispa blubbered harder.

  “My cousin, Darius, will escort you both back to Thanwine. I will give him charge of the castle and instruct him to lead the army. War may soon come to the realm.”

  “To our mountain?”

  “Yes. Unless Thanwine chooses to strike first and attack Oros. Regardless who takes the lead, a battle is imminent.” Angeline stood and walked around the bed to Crispa’s side. “I will do all I can to protect you.” She kissed the girl’s forehead. “My maid will come to escort you to a bedchamber. You can do nothing more here. Denali will tend Varlan’s body and prepare it for transport to Thanwine. There, Darius will oversee his funeral and incineration.”

  “Will you not come for the rite of passage for both your brothers?”

  “I cannot. Basilia needs me more.” She lowered her head and proceeded out the door.

  All had been accomplished.

  Chapter 19

  Olivia cuddled closer to Sebastian, content in the love she had foolishly tried to deny. True, her father had cautioned her not to align herself with anyone outside of Padrida, but prior to his untimely death, even he had grown to respect and appreciate Sebastian. It would have pained the man to see her turn her back on everyone and everything she cared for. Not only her husband, but even more so, God.

  Her dream of her sweet daughter, Amina, and ultimately, her encounter with God within that night’s vision, reminded her who she was and the importance of embracing not only faith, but hope for the future. A future that held abundant uncertainty, yet also a promise of joy.

  “Olivia?” Sebastian whispered.

  “Yes?”

  “Your breathing changed, so I believed you to be awake. I confess…I am concerned.” He rose up on one elbow. “You seem troubled.” He pushed her hair from her face, then threaded his fingers through it in a more-than-soothing manner.

  “You understand me so well. I feel more like myself again, but I cannot overcome the distress I feel from treating those around me so poorly. I need to make amends.”

  “You most definitely did so for me.” With a grin, he bent down and kissed her. “Last night was wonderful.”

  She tickled her fingers through his beard. “I agree.” She lifted her head, kissed him again, then flopped back onto the pillow. “However, my heart will not ease until I have made everything right with all those I have offended.”

  “Do not admonish yourself. Everyone in the realm understands your grief, and they think no less of you for it.”

  “My grief is reasonable, but I am ashamed of myself for acting so cold. As my mother grieved the loss of my father—her husband—I offered no comfort. And poor Rosalie…I behaved dreadfully to her.”

  “So…” Sebastian smiled in a more loving, less playful fashion. “Go today and set things right again.”

  Exactly what she intended to do.

  She sat fully upright and stretched, embracing the blessed morning. The sun beamed its bright rays through the window and heated her bare skin, and when Sebastian pulled her into his arms, she warmed in a much deeper way.

  Giggling, she stared into his eyes. “You told me to go and make things right, yet I believe you do not truly want me to leave this bed.”

  “I may have said, go, but I did not say immediately.” He drew her even closer and again captured her lips with his own.

  She happily succumbed and entwined with him, adding another time of coupling to the many they had shared through the course of the night.

  How she had thought she could cast him aside, she did not know, nor did she ever wish to discover. She wanted him forever.

  Sebastian had sent Olivia on her way with his blessings, though it had not been easy leaving him. They had renewed the loving bond they had both come to relish. It was not so much the physical gratification she enjoyed—though that in itself was indescribably wonderful—but rather the way their two hearts seemed to meld into one.

  She left him sleeping and donned a yellow dress, finally feeling she could wear a color displaying happiness. That alone would be an outward sign her days of mourning had ended. Her people might see it as too soon—having only been a month—and yet she had to push forward as quickly as possible. The realm required strong leadership.

  As much as she had tried to offer reassurance, worried mumblings at the evening meal had not ceased. Likely because she had not been herself and had given no sound encouragement. After the horrible night of her daughter’s abduction and her father’s death, she had stated what needed to be said, but they were merely words not upheld by genuine emotion and conviction.

  Her losses weighed heavy, yet she reached deep within herself and brought forth the training bestowed on her for as long as she could remember. She intended to make her father proud and be the queen her kingdom demanded.

  Although she probably should have paid a visit to her mother first and foremost, her heart led her elsewhere. She stood at the door of the bakery, took a large breath, then knocked.

  After a few long moments, the door swung wide.

  “Your Majesty?” Dane dipped his head, then stepped back and tentatively waved her in. “There has never been a need to knock on the royal bakery door.”

  “I am well aware.” Her heart pattered harder as she entered. “Even so, I felt it to be important. You are not simply the baker for the realm, you have a family within these walls. Privacy has become necessary, has it not?”

  He cocked his head to one side. “I…suppose so.” With an odd chuckle, he glanced nervously over his sh
oulder, then faced her again. “Have you come for bread? Or perhaps a pastry?”

  His uneasiness reaffirmed just how wretched she had behaved. Surely, Rosalie had told him every detail of the horrid way in which Olivia had treated her.

  “Though it smells wonderful, no, I am not here for bread.” She stepped closer and rested her hand on his forearm. “Is Rosalie within?” She lifted her chin toward the closed bedchamber door.

  “Yes. She is tending Olive.” He stared at Olivia’s hand as if it were foreign.

  She removed it and took a step back. Not only his reaction, but even hearing him say the baby’s name punched deep, adding to the pain of this awkward encounter. “Will you tell her I am here, so I might speak to her?”

  “Yes, Your Majesty.” He started to move toward the door, then stopped. “I pray you will not be harsh. She has done as you requested, assisting me here.”

  “I appreciate your concern, but I have come for the sole purpose of making amends for my poor behavior.”

  Finally, he smiled. “Very well.” He rapidly moved to their bedchamber and disappeared for a brief moment.

  Olivia scarcely blinked, when Rosalie appeared, holding Olive. The caution in Rosalie’s eyes was understandable, yet it still hurt.

  Her dear friend eased closer. “You wish to see me?”

  Olivia no longer cared about proper queenly behavior and hurried across the floor. She wrapped her arms around both mother and child and enthusiastically squeezed.

  Rosalie gasped. “Your Majesty?”

  Olivia stepped away, then smoothed her hand over the baby’s head, while looking directly into Rosalie’s face. “You are my dearest friend, and I treated you dreadfully. Can you forgive me?”

  Rosalie lunged and hugged Olivia so hard, she nearly stumbled. The action also caused Olive to wail, but Rosalie did not let go. She cried along with the baby and tightened her hold. “I thought I had lost you forever.”

  “Please, do not cry.” Olivia eased her away, then patted Olive’s back. “Hush, little one. All will be well.”

  Rosalie sniffled and dabbed at her tears with the edge of the baby’s blanket. “What changed you? Harshness has left your features.”

  Dane bustled past them and removed several loaves of bread from the oven, but not before giving Olivia an encouraging smile.

  “Can we sit?” She motioned to the table and chairs.

  “Of course.” Rosalie hastened across the room and pulled out a seat for Olivia, then took one herself and sat, swaying with the baby. Soon, Olive calmed and rested her head on her mother’s shoulder.

  The sight tugged at Olivia’s heart, yet she pushed aside jealousy. Even so, witnessing their closeness stung.

  She chose to focus on Rosalie and eased into the chair. “You asked what changed me. I feel wretched, as I was not myself. As you know, pain from such extreme loss broke me.”

  Rosalie stretched a hand across the table and grasped onto Olivia’s. “I hurt for you.”

  “Yes. You were kind and gracious, yet I lashed out at you. I pray you can forgive me.”

  “Your being here asking it of me is apology enough. But I still do not understand. The light in your eyes which vanished that terrible night has returned. How has it come back to you?”

  “I dreamed of Amina.” Though the greater portion of her dream was a revelation from God, she chose not to share it with Rosalie. Doing so might require her to reveal her lapse of faith, and she did not want her people to bear the concern of a wavering leader.

  Rosalie’s eyes widened. “A good dream?”

  “A wonderful dream. She was much older, yet happy and carefree, and in the company of a very young girl, and a youthful-looking woman.”

  “Did Amina speak to you?”

  “No. She looked at me and said much without words. I am at peace knowing she lives. One day, I am confident I will see her again.”

  Rosalie leaned forward. “So…what of…” Her mouth twisted from side to side. “…the man who took her?” she whispered. “Was he in your dream?”

  No doubt, Rosalie struggled to keep from saying Donovan’s name. “He was not. I believe the woman in my vision will somehow come to raise her. As much as I wish I knew where Amina was at this moment, I will wait as patiently as I can for our eventual reunion.”

  “You are braver than I.” Rosalie lovingly gazed down at little Olive. “I would not have the strength to endure all you have gone through, and I cannot comprehend the absence of my daughter.”

  “God gives me the courage I need, as does Sebastian.” She smiled, saying his name and recalling fresh thoughts of lying in his arms. It also felt good proclaiming faith without question.

  Rosalie let out a lengthy breath. “We all need courage. I am certain you are aware of the unease in Padrida. Our people are fearful of another attack, and since you have ordered the men from their training, there are many disgruntled rumblings.”

  Olivia sat taller in her chair and rested her hands on the tabletop. “What say you, Dane?”

  The man had continued bustling around them, but she could easily tell he attuned himself to all being said.

  “Me, Your Majesty?” He wandered close to the table.

  “Yes. People come daily to the bakery, and you hear more than most in the realm. Now that our bridge is no more, an attack is unlikely. So, what exactly is making our people so anxious?”

  He folded his arms and stood rigid. “We may not have a bridge, but there is concern of the Basilian army returning and sending flaming arrows across the ravine. They could set our orchards ablaze or destroy our crops and forest. A few men claim the possibility of the armies descending into the gorge, then climbing up our side. I personally believe it is too treacherous and no one would make such an attempt.”

  “I see.” She spun his words through her mind. “I do not know why I feel so assured, but my heart tells me we will not be bothered again. By Basilia or any other realm. Even so, I will discuss this with Sebastian and my sentries. We must be prepared for whatever might come. I do not want our people living in fear.”

  “May I speak openly, Your Majesty?”

  “Of course.”

  He dropped his arms to his sides, then brought his hands together and twisted his fingers around one another. “There are whispers that my brother might be to blame for the attack on our realm. It sickens me knowing he stooped so low in taking your child, but how could he provoke a battle?”

  “I am uncertain to the extent of Donovan’s involvement in that wretched night, yet I believe him to be capable of most anything. Regardless, I cannot dwell on my loathing of him. If I did, I would remain bitter and of no use to our people. I must concentrate my thoughts and efforts on what tangibly lies before us. Your brother is like a phantom who disappears at will. No one knows how he is able to come and go without notice. I saw him take Amina, then he vanished into the night—my child with him.”

  Dane pulled out another chair and joined them at the table. “I am ashamed he is my brother. Rosalie and I have prayed every day for the safety of Princess Amina.”

  “Your prayers are appreciated.”

  He timidly smiled and dipped his head. “I told Rosalie about Donovan’s son, Randal. We vowed secrecy to Justine’s family, but whenever I see my nephew, it is difficult to keep from going to him. He bears a great resemblance to my family, and in him I see hope for a better person than what my brother became. Yet, as Randal grows, surely the entire realm will see the similarity, guess at the truth, and shun him.”

  “Jacqueline will raise him in love, so do not fear for him. I will keep a watchful eye on him and be mindful of any ill behavior.” Olivia returned her attention to Rosalie. “I asked Justine to serve me as queen’s lady. As much as I appreciated your service, you have much to attend here. In addition, I believe it will help her heal. She is determined to maintain the ruse of Randal being her sister’s son. If she had to be in his presence every day, it would be painful for her.”

 
Rosalie lowered her eyes and stared at the table. “I had hoped to remain in the castle with you, but I understand why you want me to be here with Dane. And—though I feel slightly uncomfortable asking it—would you possibly have use for my brother, Orman? Now that he has been told to stop training for battle, he has returned to helping here in the bakery. He is utterly miserable, and honestly, with me assisting Dane, we can manage without him.”

  Dear, sweet Orman. He had wanted to go to Basilia to find a more adventuresome life outside of Padrida, yet his parents forbade him to go because of his youth. All to his good fortune. Had he gone to Basilia, he likely would have been killed.

  The perfect idea came out of nowhere. “Orman is quite capable, and I believe I have a solution. As long as he is willing to put forth great effort.”

  “Truly?” Rosalie lit up like the sun. “What do you have in mind?”

  “Quirin requires an apprentice.”

  Dane wandered close. “Your healer? Orman has performed proficiently baking bread, but the study of medicine is another thing entirely.”

  Rosalie looked up at him and frowned. “You think my brother incapable of learning?”

  “No, but—”

  “Worry not, Dane.” Olivia held up a hand, not wanting them to argue. “If Orman is willing, I will present him to Quirin. I trust him to determine whether or not Orman has the necessary abilities required for the trade. He may surprise you, and we certainly need someone to assist and eventually replace Quirin.”

  Rosalie sat taller as if her brother had already accomplished much. “I think it is wonderful and will be exactly what Orman needs to change his poor outlook on the future.”

  “Good. I will speak to Quirin first, then approach Orman.” It lifted Olivia’s spirits, knowing she could help him. Orman had always been a beloved friend. “I best be going. I have much to attend.”

  Rosalie released a sad sigh. “I understand. Still, you must promise to visit often. I do so miss our conversations.”

  “I will. Besides, I want to watch my namesake grow.” Olivia reached out and laid her hand on Olive’s back. “She will ease my heart’s aching.”