The Darathi Vorsi Prince (Song of the Swords Book 0)

by Tameri Etherton

  Rhoane heard the empress before he saw her. A swish of fabric, followed by the scent of roses and jasmine, floated through the air. He turned from the window and swallowed a gasp at the vision before him. Empress Lliandra, dressed in silks of palest blue, her long blonde hair looped and curled in an ornate style with gems glittering in the fading afternoon light, studied him as surely as he surveyed her. Delicately carved features formed her face. From the gentle arch of her brow, to her straight nose and high cheekbones, down to the bow of her lips, she was perfection. Even her skin—pale, almost white, but with a blush of pink under the surface.

  “I understand you presented yourself as a prince,”she said,“and yet you do not bow to me?”

  “Forgive me, Your Majesty. I was stunned by your beauty.”He bowed low, lower than he had to Amdi, lower even than he did for his own father.“Which I know is no excuse, but the only reason I can give for my poor manners.”

  “Your Elennish is quite good.”

  “We are taught the Aelan language in the Narthvier. Father believes it gives us a greater understanding of our neighbors.”

  “And your father would be…?”

  “King Stephan, Most Favored Son of our goddess, Verdaine. I am Rhoane, First Son of the Eleri.”

  “So many sons. Surely you Eleri have female children?” Her mocking tone set Rhoane on notice.

  A door opened, and Sir Baehlon stepped into the room.“Forgive me, Your Majesty. I was detained on another matter.”

  The empress waved him off, and he stood to one side, his arms crossed over his chest.“Rhoane was just telling me about all the men in the Narthvier.”

  Baehlon stoodpassive, but Rhoane recalled his warning.“We have women as well. My mother, Aislinn, gave birth to four children. Three male, one female. My sister studies with the other novices at Verdaine’s temple.”

  “I should like to meet your family. Do you think that would be possible?”

  “I am not sure. My father is a very private man.”

  “Is that the reason, or is it because you’ve been exiled from the forest?”

  Rhoane remained unaffected.“My exile has nothing to do with a visit from Your Majesty. That is something you must discuss with the sovereign of the Weirren.”

  Lliandra strolled to the window until she stood not more than a pace away. She tapped her forefinger along her lips. Every now and again, she bit down on her nail.“I fear I am barren, Prince Rhoane of the Eleri. Tell me, how is it your mother was able to give birth to four children, and I have none? Isn’t it true most Eleri have difficulty conceiving even one offspring?”

  She moved swiftly. One slender hand went to the front of Rhoane’s trousers; the other grasped the back of his neck. He never thought it would happen, but by the grace of his goddess, he thanked Amdi for over three seasons of torturous temptation. It served him well at present.

  “I need an heir,”she hissed.“You come from prolific stock. Perhaps the gods have seen fit to send you here to provide me with a daughter.”

  A servant arrived and announced,“His Eminence, the High Priest Brandt kaj Endion, and his daughter, Lady Faelara dal Arran.”

  The empress maintained her grasp of Rhoane’s nether regions as she gave a quick nod to the newcomers.“Brandt, you’ve come just in time to meet my new concubine.”

  An older gentleman sidled into Rhoane’s peripheral vision.“Your Majesty, accosting a noble of the Eleri is a criminal offense.”He cleared his throat.“I’ve heard rumors of Eleri torture, and I’m certain you would find it most unwelcome.”

  Lliandra’s nails cut into the sunburned skin of Rhoane’s neck.“I’m sure I would.”She smoothed the fabric of his trousers by pressing her palm hard against his flaccid cock.“Perhaps our Eleri guest does not favor the company of women, after all.”She stepped away. A look of contempt marred her lovely features.“Just my luck they would send me a counterfeit prince.”

  “I assure you, Empress Lliandra,”Rhoane said.“I am neither false, nor do I find you unappealing. I am bound to an oath I took as a lad. My mate has been chosen for me already, and as you might not know, Eleri mate with one person for life.”

  She eyed his trousers with unabashed longing.“More’s the pity for you. Still, we have no proof you are who you claim to be. Until I can determine your business in my kingdom, you will stay confined in a cell.”

  The high priest cleared his throat.“Again, Your Majesty, I caution patience. There is an easy way to answer your query.”He slid a glance at his daughter, who stepped forward and unwrapped Rhoane’s sword from a thick wool cloth.

  “You went through my belongings?”Anger surged through Rhoane’s veins. He subdued his power and his tone.“Did you find anything else of interest?”

  The priest ignored the taunt and beckoned to the empress.“Lliandra, look at the engravings on the blade. They are in an ancient Eleri dialect, and I’ve yet to decipher the inscription. However, these I can read.”He withdrew Carga’s scrolls from his robes.“This man is not just an Eleri noble.”

  “I don’t have time for games, Brandt. Tell me who he is.”

  A flurry of activity toward the foyer caused them all to turn as one. A man’s voice could be heard berating someone else, and then a gentleman rushed in. His robes flared behind him in a cloud of midnight damask.

  “Why is that damned man so insistent on announcing me? You know full well who I am!”The man stopped short when he saw the group.“Ah. That explains it. I was unaware you had company.”

  “A fact you would’ve known had you let my seneschal do his job.”The empress held out her hands to the man.“Come here, my scoundrel. You’ve been gone too long and have lost all your courtly manners.”

  The man embraced Lliandra with the familiarity of a lover. The kiss he gave, although chaste, bespoke later promises, Rhoane was certain.

  “Prince Rhoane, if that is who you truly are—and I’m not fully convinced yet—may I introduce you to the foremost mage in all of Aelinae? Alswyth Myrddin. Myrddin has been traveling of late and is just returned to us. What remarkable timing.”Her lips grazed the older gentleman’s before she indicated her guest.“This young man says he is Prince Rhoane of the Eleri. Brandt was just telling us how his sword proves his identity.”

  Myrddin bowed to Rhoane, an acceptable depth, but not nearly as low as it should’ve been for a man of his rank. Rhoane returned the gesture. He’d read about the mage in one of his father’s books. The facts of the article escaped him, but he recalled the man had lived longer than anyone, even the Eleri. Four thousand seasons, if memory served.

  “A sword, eh? Let us see that.”He reached to take the sword from Brandt. A visible spark lit forth from the blade and scalded the man’s palm.“It appears your sword doesn’t like strangers handling it.”

  “I could’ve told you that,”Brandt intoned, and Rhoane noticed a wrap around his right hand. So, he’d tried to handle the sword as well. Served them both right.“I was just telling Lliandra what this scroll contains.”

  Myrddin leaned close and scanned the papers. When he finished, he blew out a breath and regarded Rhoane with closer scrutiny. The depths of his blue eyes danced with excitement and merriment.“Not only is this man an Eleri prince, he is the chosen one of the Eirielle.”

  “What is an Eirielle?” Rhoane asked.

  “She is what the Eleri call theDarennsai,”Myrddin answered.“The Aelans have their own prophecy regarding the future of Aelinae.”

  Lliandra glanced at Rhoane. A stricken look crossing her features.“So it’s true? The prophecy?”

  Myrddin’s face softened, as did his tone.“I’m afraid so, my love. Your days of barrenness are at an end. Now, we just need to find the father of the anomaly.”

  Myrddin’s words sank into Rhoane’s consciousness. Understanding dawned at last. TheDarennsai was not yet born, and, if he understood Myrddin correctly, the empress would be her mother.

  Lliandra studied her hand, the one she’d rubbed against Rhoane’s
trousers, and very slowly wiped it against her skirts, as if trying to remove his taint.

  Chapter 7

  LADY Faelara stormed across her sitting room in an agitated fury. How dare he! How dare her father ask her to do something so improper. She was a lady. Highborn, daughter of the high priest. Both her family names were from respectable Houses. She couldn’t be made to act as matchmaker to her empress. Why, it was little more than being a madame. No, she wouldn’t. Couldn’t. He was impossible for even suggesting it.

  “Fae, you know I’m right.”Brandt settled into a chair and sipped his tea. The tea she’d made for him. With love! And this was how he repaid her.

  “Father, you must be mistaken. The Eleri has only a sword and a scroll. That’s not enough to prove anything. And I refuse to even consider your other proposition.”

  “If you didn’t believe he was a prince, then why did you insist he take a room next to mine? And why did you send for me?”

  Faelara bit at the nub of her thumbnail and winced when she drew blood.“I was trying to vex Baehlon. I didn’t care if the man was a prince or a pauper. It was nothing more than a game to me.”

  Brandt sipped his tea, and Fae continued to stare out the window. The gardens were lovely this time of year. Not quite summer, but the chill of Frost End had passed. It was her favorite time to be outdoors, hands in the dirt, planting fresh blooms. She wondered whether Princess Gwyneira would be available to help her later that afternoon. They could harvest some herbs and practice making potions. Gwyn always enjoyed their little impromptu lessons.

  “Are you listening to me?”

  Fae turned toward her father.“I was distracted.”

  “You shouldn’t torture Baehlon so much, my darling. He has feelings for you, I can see that, but if you continue with your little games, he will soon lose interest.”

  A pinch of his brows set off her alarms.“What aren’t you telling me?”

  “It’s probably nothing, but I’ve heard rumors Lliandra is going to wed him to Lord Askell’s daughter.”

  “Micah? She never said a thing. Why? Lliandra knows I care for Baehlon.”

  “For the empress, marriage is done for prestige or promotion. Lord Askell can offer her something I cannot—land and coin.”

  “It’s perfectly within her rights, but I wish she’d at least told me so I could stop making a fool of myself.”Faelara pouted like a child, most unbecoming of a lady, but she didn’t care.

  For five seasons, she’d been flirting outrageously with the knight. He never spoke of it, but she knew he returned her attraction. Every morning he would say good day, or bring her wildflowers if he’d been on patrol. Or perhaps she’d imagined he returned her affections, when really he’d been courting Micah. None of it mattered. If the empress decided Baehlon should marry the woman, it was as good as done.

  “Are you telling me this now to sway my decision?” Fae asked.

  Brandt’s grin gave him away. He tried to hide it behind the rim of his cup, but she saw through the ruse.

  She planted her hands on her slim hips.“You belong in Dal Ferran—a demon you are.”

  “You would’ve found out sooner or later. I wanted to spare your feelings before it was too late.”

  It was much further than too late. She loved Baehlon and would the rest of her days, whether he returned that love or not.“I suppose this gives me reason to leave court without a scandal.”

  “You won’t be gone more than a few seasons.”

  “With a man I don’t know and only your word to vouch for him.”

  “He survived the Ullan arena for almost a whole season, and even Lliandra couldn’t tempt him to her bed. I believe you’ll be safe, or I wouldn’t suggest this venture.”He rose and took her hands in his.“I’ll join you when I can.”

  “We’ll need coin. Prince or no, he arrived without a crown on him.”

  “Aye. I’ll make certain you have enough to get you to the Summerlands. From there, I’ll arrange funds in the various cities you’ll visit.”

  “Does he know? Is he willing to go on a fishing expedition without a boat?”

  “I’m sure once we explain our purpose to him, he’ll be more than amenable.”

  Faelara groaned and shook her head. Sometimes her father was too much of a dreamer. Always studying the stars, his head was permanently in the clouds. She preferred to keep her ambitions closer to the terrarae. Leave the stars to the gods.

  In the end, convincing the prince to leave Talaith and the wandering hands of its empress wasn’t difficult. Unlike Fae, he had no trouble with traveling Aelinae in search of the perfect man to father Lliandra’s child. But Rhoane didn’t know the empress like Faelara did. He was unaware of her penchant for beheading any man who didn’t give her a child. Nor did he know about the rumors and accusations that the woman liked more than gentle caresses in her bedchamber. Some of the tales Faelara had heard made her blood curdle.

  On the surface, Lliandra was as beautiful as they came, but beneath the lovely veneer existed a woman who craved power and wasn’t afraid to inflict pain to get what she wanted. At least, that’s what the rumors would have Fae believe. She’d never experienced the empress’s violence, and hoped she never would.

  Getting Rhoane’s approval for the journey was one thing. The empress proved another case entirely. Despite the Eleri prince’s declaration he was bound to another, Lliandra had confided in Faelara on more than one occasion she held out hope he would join her bed and provide her an heir. Rhoane tactfully avoided the empress’s advances, but Faelara saw the strain the constant flirting put on the young man. In a way, she felt sorry for him. Lliandra could be most persuasive.

  After nearly a moonturn of the empress making a fool of herself, Faelara sought advice from Lliandra’s closest advisor, and sometime lover, Myrddin. She found him in his tower, tinkering with a box of cogs and wires. He wore thick spectacles that made his deep blue eyes huge against his face. Stifling a giggle, she examined some of his more unorthodox collectibles: a horse’s hoof, complete with bone and fur attached; the beak from a large bird, perhaps a feiche; and nestled among the detritus of his life, a small, leather-bound book with neatly written lines in a language she’d never seen.

  “Where do you get this stuff?”She patted her hands on her skirt.“And whyever don’t you believe in having this place cleaned? There’s dust here from the last four Ages.”

  Myrddin scoffed a reply.“Did you come here to besmirch my hygiene? Or was there a purpose to your impromptu visit?”

  “I wanted to ask a favor. If you could intervene with the empress on behalf of the Eleri prince, I’m sure he would be grateful. As would most of the eligible bachelors at court.”

  “Lliandra enjoys the hunt, you know that.”He paused in his fiddling and regarded her a little too closely.“You aren’t attracted to the handsome youth, are you?”

  “Don’t be ridiculous. It’s just we’re supposed to leave on our mission, and Lliandra is preventing us. Whatever her reasoning, summer is upon us, and we shouldn’t waste any more time. As it is, I don’t see how we can attend the Light Celebrations this Wintertide if we are meant to visit every kingdom looking for suitable donors.”

  “Donors?”Myrddin’s chuckle did little to ease her nerves.“Is that what you call them? Not lovers? Nor companions? Or even paramours?”

  “You know what I mean. Don’t tease.”

  “Is this really about the Eleri, or is it that you wish to be away from court when Lliandra makes the announcement regarding Sir Baehlon and Lady Askell?”

  Faelara’s gut pinched at the mention of the couple.“It’s true I don’t wish to be a part of their happiness, but I am here solely for the benefit of our empress. She must produce an heir. If she doesn’t have a female child within the next ten seasons, the crown will pass to Gwyneira. I’m sure the princess will make a fine empress, but never in the history of Aelinae has one sister had to give up the throne for another. I’m afraid of what might happen should
that come to pass.”

  Myrddin bent his head to his box of springs and gadgets.“Lliandra’s crown is safe, for now. But you make a valid point. I’ll speak with her tonight. In fact,”he glanced up, his eyes luminous in the magnifying spectacles,“I’ll insist I travel with you and the Eleri. If her reservations are tied in any way to you and the prince having an improper dalliance while on your journey, my presence should alleviate that fear.”

  “You would do that? Oh, thank you, Myrddin.”She flung her arms around his neck and kissed his cheek.“Having you along will make the search that much easier. I confess, finding a suitable donor for the empress does have me a bit vexed. Where to look? What are the qualifications? Will he even be interested?”

  “My dear, you worry too much about these things. There isn’t a man alive who would decline the chance to bed Lliandra. She is the most powerful woman in all seven kingdoms. The question you should be asking yourself is,‘Who will provide the empress with the Eirielle?’That’s the only qualification we need concern ourselves with.”

  Myrddin ignored the fact the Eleri had not only denied Lliandra, but had publicly stated he would remain untouched until his true mate was found. Lliandra had been in a snit all that day, and Faelara feared for the prince’s life. The man might have survived Ulla’s arena, but life at Lliandra’s court required a set of skills the Eleri obviously lacked. Fae was determined to keep Rhoane alive long enough to find this elusive donor of Lliandra’s heir. With the donor in her bed, and the Eirielle a reality, Lliandra’s power would weaken.

  Not that Faelara wished her empress harm, but a lesson in humility might be for the best. The woman thought she could play with people’s emotions, as if she owned them. They were her subjects, not her source of entertainment. Faelara pressed a clammy palm against her racing heart. Her thoughts were treasonous and could never be spoken aloud. Yet she craved to see Lliandra on her knees, begging for mercy. The woman had stolen something precious from Faelara. It wasn’t right she get away with it.