by Beth Alvarez
Of course, if she had already reached a plateau in her abilities, she had to admit disappointment. She'd always expected she'd be stronger, that she'd graduate to mageling blue and refine her abilities in pursuit of the white. That she was the Archmage's daughter reinforced that belief, though she had to remind herself that Kifel's bloodline played an equal part—a bloodline he'd once admitted was mixed with Giftless lineage. Firal smoothed her hair as the thoughts played through her head. The door opened, and she straightened.
Kytenia stepped halfway into the office before she caught herself. Blushing, she retreated into the hallway to knock.
“Come in, you goose.” Firal couldn't help but smile. “I called you up here so we could visit before you all go home, why wouldn't I let you in?”
Sheepish, Kytenia pushed the door open again and held it for the other two mageling girls at her heels. “Well, you're an important person now. And you have company. I didn't want to interrupt.” Her eyes darted between Nondar and Vahn. Her gaze lingered on the latter with a hint of a smile.
Rikka held no such restraint, almost prancing to the old Master's side. “Nondar, the other Masters said you've been asked to be Archmage of Kirban! Is that true?”
Nondar grunted, displeased. “Now how would the other Masters know that?”
Shymin stayed by the door and fidgeted with the skirt of her robe. “Edagan was snooping at your desk this morning while you were at breakfast. I planned to tell you, but you left the chapter house before I could.”
The old Master's eyes narrowed until Shymin squirmed. Firal couldn't fault him. No one liked a tattle-tale, but worse was one who could have tattled before gossip spread.
“Well,” Nondar grumbled, giving her a dour look, “she'd best break herself of that habit. I've decided to accept the title. Spying on her superiors is unacceptable behavior.”
For some reason, Shymin reddened and averted her eyes.
Kytenia cleared her throat. “In any case, Firal, I passed Medreal in the hall. She said that she'd bring you something to eat with your tea. Are your nerves still bothering you?”
“A bit. That or I've started to come down with something. It would figure, me catching ill just before my coronation and the festivities.” Firal tore the note from the top of the paper and held it out to Vahn. He plucked it from her fingertips and collected the message tube from her desk.
“I'm sure that's not it, but I can check if you'd like.” Kytenia pushed up her sleeves as she crossed the room, positioning herself behind Firal's chair before she had permission. “I know you're nervous, but you'll do all right. You'll have Nondar to look after the temple for you and Medreal to advise you here.”
Firal sat straighter as Kytenia laid her hands on her shoulders. “But I don't know the first thing about being a queen!” The feeling of her friend's magic coursing through her, probing for illness, made her shiver.
“You'll learn,” Kytenia laughed. “Now, let's see. You'd probably feel better if you slept, for one. Your energies are pulling at mine like you haven't had a minute to rest all week. I think that—oh,” she interrupted herself and stopped short.
“What?” Firal craned her neck to look over her shoulder.
Kytenia bit her lower lip. “Master Nondar, would you?”
Nondar raised a brow but pushed himself up from his chair and took Kytenia's place. He'd barely touched Firal with his energies before he jerked back his hands. “Oh, heavens, child.”
“What?” Firal cried, looking between the two of them in panic. The eyes of the others in the room weighed heavy on her skin.
Kytenia's mouth worked a moment before she could speak. “When you went off into the ruins with... with Ran, did you, ah... Were the two of you...”
“Of course they did,” Nondar snorted. “Don't be daft. They were married!”
Firal's eyes widened, the uneasiness in her stomach suddenly a lead weight. “No,” she managed, the single word thick with disbelief.
Nondar rubbed his brow. “It's been a handful of weeks. If the timing was just right, it would mean you'd begun symptoms early, but that's not unheard of.”
Rikka clapped hands to her mouth. “Firal and Ran were married?” Her bewilderment was mirrored in Shymin's face. Only Vahn didn't look surprised, though he shifted uncomfortably on his feet.
Firal's stomach churned harder than before and she laid a hand against it. “But I didn't think—He said he didn't know if—”
“Not knowing doesn't mean it's not possible, dear girl.” Nondar patted her shoulder.
“But it can't be!” She raked fingers through her hair, unable to fight the tears that brimmed in her eyes. “I'm to be the queen, Nondar! There's not even been a formal coronation yet, I can't be unmarried and have a child! What would they call me? What would come of it? They'd hang me if they knew where it came from!” Never mind what they would do if it was born looking like its father. Would it? The idea made her heart skip. Could the magic that twisted his form be passed on to his children?
Kytenia planted her hands on her hips. “You'll get married,” she said, pausing before she corrected herself. “Or remarried, that is. If you marry now, no one will know. If anything, people will just think the child was born early.”
“I don't think it's so easy as that,” Shymin said.
“Well we can't just say she was married before, that would raise too many questions,” Rikka added, rubbing the back of her neck. “But where is she supposed to find someone to marry without causing a fuss?”
“Simple.” Kytenia's face fell. “Vahn will marry her.”
“What?” Vahn cried. The message tube dropped from his fingers.
“You must,” Kytenia pleaded. “Think what would happen if you don't! To Firal, to the kingdom, to all of us. You're the perfect choice to play the part. Your father is the newly-retired Captain of the Guard, descended from nobles. High born enough that no one would cry foul, low enough in rank that no one's been watching you.”
Nondar eyed the young man. “It's possible.” He tugged at his beard and smoothed a hand over his thinning hair. “I believe we could make it work. A coronation and a wedding at the same time, that should settle things in the city.”
“But Kytenia, I can't! I won't come between the two of you,” Firal protested.
“I don't believe you're in a position to object, child.” Nondar's stern frown silenced her.
“Besides,” Kytenia said, struggling to smile. “You made a promise, Vahn, remember?”
He flinched at the reminder, but nodded. Firal blinked, uncertain what she'd missed.
“I did,” he agreed, though his shoulders slumped. “And it would be an honor to serve my queen and country, no matter what is asked of me.”
As if to punctuate the statement, Nondar thunked his cane against the floor. “So it's decided, then. As Archmage, I will inform the council and the mages and see that preparations begin. Shymin, run and fetch Anaide and Edagan. Tell them I would speak with them at once.”
“Yes, Archmage.” Shymin dipped in a bow and hurried out the door. Nondar followed not far behind, though he paused to hold the door for Medreal to enter with her tea tray before he continued on his way.
Medreal stopped just inside the door and searched the troubled, forlorn faces still in Firal's office. “Oh!” she exclaimed. “I've not brought enough teacups.”
29
A Name
“Is everything all right?” Vahn struggled to keep his voice calm, though calm was far from how he felt. He'd grown tired of watching the city through the high windows in the hallway. Now he tried to ignore the people in the courtyard below. The entire palace was aflutter with excitement. He felt rather aflutter, himself, though it was more anxiety than excitement.
“Of course.” Medreal pushed the door halfway closed behind her. “A healthy child. A daughter. Are congratulations in order, king-regent?” She offered him a smile despite the sorrow that still glazed her eyes. The months had been long and diffic
ult for all of them; it seemed there wasn't a soul left in the palace or temple that had not lost someone dear.
He hesitated to reply. “Yes,” he said at last, leaning to look past her into the now-quiet bedchamber. “They are in order, thank you.”
Medreal opened the door again and gestured for him to go ahead. Vahn lingered just inside as his eyes adjusted to the muted light. Maidservants were cleaning the room, and a Master he recognized as a healer stood alongside the midwife. In the center of everything, Firal reclined in a mass of pillows on the bed. Her bedraggled dark hair framed a weary face, her eyes trained on the tiny, linen-wrapped bundle she held at her breast.
“And it may take a few days before you've the milk to feed her properly,” the midwife was saying, hands on her hips. “In the meantime, I can call for a wet-nurse if you think there is a need.”
“Thank you, I will keep that in mind.” Firal caught sight of Vahn from the corner of her eye and turned her head to offer a feeble smile. His throat constricted oddly and he did his best to smile in return. Through the months that followed their wedding, he had come to love her in a way, though it lacked the fire and passion he always hoped to find. Still, she was lovely, and she was queen. No man in his right mind would be displeased with that.
“A girl, is it?” The king-regent clasped his hands behind his back as he moved across the room. He settled on the edge of the bed and smoothed her hair back from her face.
“I'm afraid she doesn't look like you at all,” Firal laughed, though a shadow of sadness veiled her eyes.
Vahn chuckled at the jest. She was always so mindful of the way she worded things, so careful to conceal the awkward truth of their relationship, lest it engulf them in scandal. He pulled back the linen and smiled at the sight of the infant's dark hair and delicately pointed ears.
“She's a good-sized child for as early as she's come. Strong and healthy, nothing to worry about.” The midwife nodded in approval and folded her arms over her chest. “We'll leave the three of you for a bit of peace. Please call for any of us if you need assistance.”
Firal nodded. “We will, thank you.”
Vahn watched as the maidservants and attendants filtered out of the room. When the door closed behind them, he allowed himself to breathe. “I suppose everything is... normal, then?”
“Ten fingers, ten toes.” Firal shrugged. “She is blessed to take after me.”
“What would we have done if she hadn't?” It was an honest question, one he meant kindly, though he couldn't quite keep the relief from his voice. “A life in hiding is no life for a child. Especially not a royal.”
She swallowed. “I don't know. I tried not to think about it. I tried not to think about much of anything.”
He watched the child sink away from her mother's breast, her eyes rolling open and settling closed again. He gave a start at the color; a vivid, otherworldly violet.
“Just like her father,” Firal said with a bitter smile. “But they aren't snake's eyes.”
“Fortune takes kindly to her,” he agreed. A long silence passed before he found the will to speak again. “What will we call her? We never discussed any names.”
“Something familiar. Something to represent unity,” she murmured as she shifted the babe in her arms. “Something to draw the island's people together. I...”
Vahn raised a brow and waited for her to go on.
Firal nodded as if she'd made up her mind. “I thought we might call her Lumia.”
The Snakesblood Saga continues in book 3, Serpent’s Bane.
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Author’s note
Thanks for reading Serpent’s Tears! I know authors aren’t supposed to play favorites, but I especially loved writing this installment in the series. So many powerful feelings! I can’t wait to see what you think of it… and I hope you’ll enjoy the next book in the series, too.
This particular book endured nine of editing and three rounds of proofreading, but accidents still happen. If you find any typographical or formatting errors in this book, please let me know so I can fix it for the next reader.
If you enjoyed this story, I’d love to have you join my author newsletter, too—it goes out twice a month or so, with information about new releases and peeks at extras like artwork and works-in-progress. You can find it here: http://www.ithilear.com/newsletter
Hope to see you there!
- Beth
About the Author
Beth Alvarez has enjoyed writing since childhood and is a ravenous reader.
A visual arts major, Alvarez has worked as a freelance web designer, graphic designer, illustrator, and video game programmer. When not writing, she enjoys drawing, playing video games, driving, and sewing for her unusual collection of Asian ball-jointed dolls. Her collection can be seen on her YouTube channel, Lomi’s Playground.
Raised in southern Illinois, she now resides in the suburbs of Memphis, Tennessee with her husband and daughter, their Siberian husky, and a very mean cat.
Books by Beth Alvarez
FANTASY BOOKS
Gale’s Gift
Of Blood and Rain
To Steal the World
To Steal the Crown
To Steal the Queen (Coming June 2020)
Serpent’s Mark
Serpent’s Tears (Thanks for reading!)
Serpent’s Bane (Coming late summer 2020)
PARANORMAL BOOKS
Keeper’s Finder
Her Midnight Cowboy
Her Midnight Wedding
The First Hunt (Newsletter Exclusive)
Death of the Sun
Born of the Moon
