Dream of Darkness and Dominion

by Hilary Thompson

  He was so beyond those summer games with Coren, but he didn’t know how to tell her without it feeling like the worst form of flattery. Instead, he reached into the pocket of his long, fitted black coat and withdrew the final touch.

  “I also had this made.” He opened the slim, carved wooden box and offered her a delicate necklace, the white and green stones glittering in the slanting sunlight. “Sandjasmine.”

  The tiny flowers and vines were exquisitely rendered in silver and opal and emerald, and as Resh reached around her neck to fasten the clasp, he caught the sparkle of a tear in her eyes. The necklace dropped to rest along her decolletage, and Resh resisted following the trail of flowers with his eyes. Instead, he slipped a hand around her waist and drew her close.

  Coren melted into his kiss, as shy and sweet as the first spring flowers peeking from beneath a crust of snow.

  Resh wished they could stay in this oasis forever, forgetting the people gathering in the throne room. But he knew eventually someone would be sent, and Coren would be forced away.

  So, he forced himself away, pressing one final kiss to that maddening curve of her bottom lip.

  “Perfection,” he repeated.

  Coren lowered her eyes, her flush deepening. As she stepped toward a large mirror, the servants’ door cracked open, and a young girl entered.

  “Your hair, Majesty,” she squeaked, and Coren sat on the stool before the mirror. Resh fetched the slippers he’d ordered made, lacing them onto her feet. He’d debated heels, but he knew how she would detest them.

  The slippers were delicate dancing shoes, a slim bit of sand-colored leather with thin straps lacing up her calves. Resh thoroughly enjoyed tying the laces, lingering until Coren reached down to push him away. He glanced up at her one last time, a smirk on his face.

  “Ready, my Queen?”

  Coren sighed at the title, but once the servant placed the Queen’s black and silver crown atop her intricately-curled hair, she stood and took Resh’s arm, her spine straight and her head high as they strode from the room and down the corridors together.

  Just before the massive doors of the throne room opened, Coren halted, tugging at Resh’s arm. She stood on her toes and whispered, “Thank you.” Her lips touched his ear and slid lower, the feather-light touch shooting sensation through every limb of his body.

  Then she faced forward and nodded to the line of guards before them. Before Resh could hardly get his bearings, the doors opened and the glittering people of the StarsHelm court spread before them.

  Resh knew he was greeting them all with a lovestruck grin, and there was nothing in the world he could do about it.

  THIS WAS REALLY HAPPENING, Coren reminded herself as she entered the packed throne room.

  She was now the Queen of Riata, her people’s enemy nation. And she had no idea what she was doing.

  At least the coronation had been more on her terms. She’d worn leathers and spread her wings, displaying a different sort of power than any Queen of Riata ever had. Tonight, she was just another girl in a fancy dress.

  She would learn, though. She would ask questions about battle strategy, study history and maps, watch court politics, and above all, trust no one except Resh and Sy. Even Dain, who had been such help, had his own motives. She needed to remember that the most important goal of this whole plan was making sure her people went free, and Riata changed its tyrannous ways.

  Coren focused her gaze on the dais and the cursed King’s throne there. She grounded herself with the stability of Resh’s arm and processed through the masses of nobility and officers.

  Of course, Jyesh was already sprawled in his place of First Son, his gaudy silvered tunic and fur-trimmed cloak arranged carefully over the smaller chair she’d fixed. It sickened her a bit that he’d so happily taken a title traditionally given to the Queen’s child. The Mirror Magi must be furious at the twisting of their twin magic.

  But the Generals and the upper court had agreed to give Jyesh this limited measure of power, and she was committed to giving them a say in the country, as long as they weren’t cruel. Jyesh as First Son of Riata was still much safer than Jyesh as King of Riata.

  Either way, she was glad they had worked out a plan to keep him guarded and watched. She knew where he went and who he spoke to, and Dain had even given her a bit of sleeping powder to use in an emergency.

  Sy waited to the side of the dais with her other guards, resplendent in his Weshen battle armor. He looked fresh-faced, and she hoped he’d gotten a nap in without the curse bothering him. Every time she asked him about the spirits, he waved it away like it was nothing. She didn’t believe him, but she wanted to give him time to come to terms with it.

  She was nearly to the dais, and she was grateful for Resh’s steady arm. She took several seconds to appreciate his fine, slim-cut black coat and the silver-trimmed vest beneath, covering a white shirt that was somehow still crisp and smooth.

  Resh slid his eyes to the side and intercepted her gaze, the corner of his mouth lifting in a heated smirk. “Perfect,” he mouthed. Coren stumbled a step, and his grip tightened on her arm. She frowned and focused instead on how his onyx prayer beads glinted at the tanned column of his neck.

  No, that wasn’t any better.

  Avoiding the sear of Resh’s eyes altogether, she scanned the waiting Generals, locking eyes with Dain. Coren wavered under the intensity of his stare also, ducking her gaze. She did not like being the focus of so many eyes and the source of so many unspoken hopes and expectations.

  Stepping onto the dais, she let go of Resh’s arm. He stepped toward Sy as she turned slowly to the crowd. She concentrated on the brush of her long skirts against the smooth marble to calm herself. They wanted her to say something, and she couldn’t think of a single word.

  She heard Jyesh clear his throat behind her, and it jolted her into action. She couldn’t let him take over the moment.

  “Riatans,” she began, testing her voice in the great hall again. Her heart pounded. Somehow it was harder than when she’d been just a girl telling a story. But maybe she still was. “I came here to help you change the world for the better. Riata is a great nation, but it has had cruel moments. Your rulers have done reprehensible harm. But it wasn’t always so. I’ve heard stories of a King loved by all - your Silver Sovereign. His death turned Riata toward darkness, but tonight, I’d like to ask your help in turning this great land back to the light.”

  She hoped that would be enough. Coren bent her neck as Resh had taught her, keeping her shoulders and spine straight. To her delight, the entire hall bowed deeply, their shoulders nearly level with the marbled floor, and Coren’s pulse began to slow. She caught Dain’s eye again, and he smiled. She’d done well.

  Taking a deep breath, she stepped back and settled herself in the throne.

  As soon as she was seated, the people rose. They began to mingle and gossip, and servants soon brought steaming carts of meat and trays of sauces and baskets heavy with bread, loading each of the tables with enough food for an entire country.

  At some point, she noticed Jyesh had left with his guards. Part of her wished she had the same privilege - she was expected to be available the entire night.

  Nobody approached the dais during dinner except Resh, and he was quiet as he watched the crowds. After dinner, though, the reception began, and Coren’s head spun with the number of names she was asked to learn.

  She’d never learn them all.

  Resh leaned in to whisper, “Don’t worry. Sy and I will help you remember.”

  She slid him a glance, wondering how he always seemed to know just what she needed. “Am I that obvious?” she murmured as yet another Lord approached.

  Resh smirked, but he shook his head. “I know you,” he said.

  Before her, the Lord cleared his throat, and Coren turned back to look at him. This one she knew. “Lord Gernant.” She nodded.

  “Queen Corentine,” he returned. “Although the demise of your grandfather and Q
ueen Mara saddens me greatly, I look forward to working with a young mind to improve the holdings and prosperity of Riata.”

  Coren narrowed her eyes at him. “Of course. However, please know that I don’t intend to be invading other countries to improve our holdings, and there are limits to what can be used in the name of prosperity.”

  Gernant nodded, his eyes cold. Coren knew of his ties to alchemy and likely to the torture of Wesh captives. Glancing up, she caught Dain’s eye, but a warning waited there. She needed this man on her side, apparently. No matter how much he made her skin crawl, she needed to keep him content.

  “But please do keep me informed of your ideas to improve Riata. I appreciate your knowledge, and I’d be interested to learn more about your expertise with alchemy.”

  “Of course, Majesty,” Gernant replied. His gaze was still icy, but a bit of pride had lifted his lips. Coren realized she could use his pride against him, and she bestowed a smile.

  “Thank you for your services to Riata, Lord Gernant,” she said, giving him the cue to leave. He bowed and strode down the aisle, making room for the next supplicant.

  Coren mumbled and smiled her way through several more Lords and Ladies before Resh nudged her, nodding to the next man in line.

  He arrived with an obvious chip on his shoulder, arrogance leaking from his every movement.

  “General Cusslen,” she recalled.

  He gave a brief bow, just barely obeying the protocol of addressing royalty. Coren suppressed a sigh.

  “How do you plan to deal with the Brujok?” he asked without further pleasantries.

  “I have no problem fighting the Brujok myself, as I’m certain you’ve seen” Coren snapped, regretting her tone as soon as it escaped. She took a deep breath. “But looking forward, your soldiers must be trained to defend themselves against such devastating magic. I believe my friends can help with that.” She gestured to Resh. “Weshen have long trained to fight against Brujok.”

  “So, there will be no search for the former Queen? She is truly abandoned in a hostile country without hope of aid?”

  Coren frowned at the man’s insinuation. He waited stoically. Resh cleared his throat, and she dragged herself past the curses she wanted to fling at the man.

  “General Cusslen, I don’t see your logic. Mara is not in a hostile country, nor was she captured. She was a friend and ally to the Brujok. She fled after her twin, Lord Aram, was injured. So, no, I will not be sending a rescue party. Mara will only return as an enemy of Riata.”

  “Treason,” he hissed.

  She drew herself taller. “I assure you, it is not. As the true heir of Zorander Graeme, I have more right to this chair under your own laws than Mara,” Coren said, raising her voice as she stood. Since the General was not on the dais, she was taller than him now, and she glared down at the blustering man. “Furthermore, you and a council of your peers have voted me here. If you cannot accept that these vital changes have happened legally, consider a resignation before I turn the word treason back on you.”

  She willed him to back down. He did not for several seconds, and Coren sensed movement in her periphery. She didn’t even blink, continuing to hold the General’s gaze. His hand drifted to his belt, where his dress scabbard was linked, and his sword would be waiting.

  Coren felt Resh and Sy step next to her, and still she held Cusslen’s stare. Her Vespa stirred, cooing softly that the man should die for his impudence. Coren struggled not to smile as the creature shifted within her, pushing at her sources.

  She allowed her fingers to lengthen into the golden claws, a fat drop of poison glistening on each tip. She raised one to point toward the door.

  “General Cusslen, please remove yourself from this room. If I hear another breath of threat from you, I will arrest you. Queens and countries change every day,” she added, calling the words loudly to the rapt audience. “While I’m here, I mean to help Riata by helping its people. Not by hurting others.”

  Cusslen grumbled an offensive word under his breath, and Resh nearly drew his sword on the man. Coren lifted her clawed hand before Resh, holding him back. Finally, Cusslen broke the stare, swiveling on the balls of his feet and storming through the watching crowd, all the way to the massive doors.

  A few of the nearby Ladies began to clap, and Coren was shocked and gratified when the approving noises began to ripple around the room. She did see a few others flounce out after the General, and she motioned to her guards to follow and see who they were.

  But when she glanced to Sy, his face twitched into a grin. He bowed low, murmuring words of respect, and the crowds before her began to duck into the same movement.

  Coren suddenly felt light-headed, her knees nearly giving out. Resh caught her lower back, giving her the support she needed without making her appear weak.

  “That was incredible. You were made for this,” he whispered in her ear, tugging her the few steps backward to the throne. She sank into it gratefully, thinking that Resh was slowly becoming someone she couldn’t imagine living without.

  The crowd began to stir, and after a few awkward moments, the reception line began again. Coren greeted the rest of the people without incident, her eyes and ears glazing over with a surplus of information.

  But finally, there was an end to the line. Music swelled through the room, and Resh bent to her ear. “I’ve heard that Riatans love to dance. Would you do me the honor?”

  Coren smiled up at him. She was tired from the receiving line, but her legs ached to move. “I have no idea how.”

  “I’ll show you every step, with pleasure,” he answered, and as usual, his smile promised so much more than a dance. Coren ignored the heat in her cheeks and offered him her hand. They stepped from the dais, and Resh pulled her tight to his body.

  Gradually, people stopped what they were doing, watching the couple, moving aside to give them more room. Coren’s face flamed hotter, but Resh pulled her through the movements so adeptly that she felt graceful.

  “Your body knows this. It’s no different than running the plains of Weshen Isle or swimming the MagiSea,” he murmured in her ear as he turned her back to his front. He spun her away and back, clasping her fingers and leading her with both hands. “And it’s very much like kissing and what may follow kissing,” he added when she returned to him, her body fitting snugly against his.

  Coren grinned away any embarrassment, determined to enjoy the moment. She glanced to her audience and called, “Please, Riata, join us in the celebration.”

  Couples began to form from the mass of people, and most of the focus was no longer on her. Resh turned her to face him again, a hand on the small of her back guiding her in the rhythm of the simple steps.

  She bent her head closer to his chest, her lips even with the hollow of his throat. He shuddered as she brushed them gently against the exposed skin, and his hand slipped beneath her chin.

  “Save that for later, when we’re alone,” he said, a note of adorable panic in his voice.

  She smiled wider, realizing again that power came in many forms, and she had much to learn. She lifted onto her toes. “Thank you,” she whispered in his ear. “This is perfect.”

  “I’m just glad I finally got to give you a dress,” he said, his arm tightening around her waist as he moved her around the wide room.

  Chapter 18

  RESH WALKED COREN BACK to her bedroom just as the morning light was beginning to slit across the sky. She yawned as she waited for the guards to open her doors, and before Resh could ask, she pulled him inside with her.

  “Stay with me a little longer?” she whispered, her eyes on the stone floor.

  “I hoped you’d say that,” he answered, and her heart stuttered a bit. She didn’t want to promise more than she was ready to give.

  She slipped away from him, fluffing her hair away from her damp neck. The curls had relaxed into a gentle wave, and she removed the crown, placing it on an egg-shaped piece of marble designed to hold it. She was happy t
o be free of its weight.

  She stepped to the vast window overlooking the palace gardens and pressed her palm to the cool glass. Settling on the wide, padded bench before it, Coren drew her knees to her chest like a child, crumpling the mounds of filmy fabric.

  Resh perched near her, reaching to grasp her ankle. He pulled her leg gently toward him and unwrapped the ribbons circling her calves, pulling off the dancing slippers. His fingers kneaded into her soles, and Coren bit back a sigh.

  She leaned her head back onto the glass, turning her cheek to the chill and closing her eyes to better enjoy the exquisite feel of his hands massaging the aches from her feet.

  Soon, though, his hands crept higher, and she felt his weight shift toward her. Just before she opened her eyes, she felt his lips on her cheek, then sliding down to her jaw, and the bare length of her neck. Circling her waist with one hand, Resh slid between her and the window, pressing hot kisses to each of the tiny flowers of her necklace.

  Coren gasped as the cool point of the stones marked the center of each flaming touch.

  Her senses stumbled and overloaded, and she pushed him away harder than necessary. She blinked at him, still so close to her. His hair was mussed, and she realized she’d been grasping at the dark waves, pressing him closer before she panicked.

  Her chest rose and fell heavily as she watched him, uncertain what words could match how she was feeling. She felt like she was losing control, losing herself a little in him.

  The silence stretched to a brittle tension until finally, Resh cocked a smile to let her know it was okay. His hand remained heavy on her waist.

  “What are you afraid of, Coren? Why does our intimacy panic you?”

  And there it was. He’d seen everything in her eyes. Now, it was up to her to explain it.

  “I used to be terrified of just a kiss,” she admitted. “My mother knew some things about the Sacrifice, but only half the story, I think. She forbade me to be caught in the hunts.”