Nestled in his lap, Adonia wrapped her arms around his chest—his living, breathing chest—and her emotions got the best of her again. Her body shook with uncontrolled sobs as she ran her hands over him, feeling every inch of bare skin to cement his reality in her mind. “I thought I had lost you, my prince.” He held her and covered the crown of her head with gentle kisses until, gradually, after a passage of some time, she brought her grief-stricken keens under control. With a convulsive shudder, she hugged Hel and murmured into his chest. “My nose has run all over you. How unattractive. And I’m naked. May I please put my robe on?”
Hel pushed her away from him and, with a raised eyebrow, looked at his chest and chuckled. She scrubbed her nose with the back of her hand and joined him as he rose and set her gently on her feet, his arms hovering around her until she nodded.
She placed her arms into the sleeves of the ornate robe Hel held open for her and stood quietly as he tucked her into the voluminous garment and wrapped the sash several times around her waist before donning his own robe. “I’m afraid to leave this chamber. I’m afraid of what we’ll find,” she confessed as Hel opened the door for her.
“Yes. I share your apprehension. But we cannot stay here forever.”
Hel took her hand, and they walked out to a quiet tower atrium. Adonia looked at Hel in question. “There is no outside noise.”
“The walls are very thick, and we may be the first to leave. I’m uncertain how long we were in the Chambre Cristalle. Don’t read too much into the quiet.”
Nevertheless, when the lift reached the bottom floor, Adonia couldn’t help but feel uneasy as they crossed to the entryway door. The bar that Hel had put into place when they had entered hung shattered in half and daylight shone through great gouges in the door itself. “What happened here?” she wondered out loud.
“Someone tried to enter. Unsuccessfully, from the unsullied interior of the tower’s ground floor.” Hel pulled the door open carefully. “Stay behind me until I know it is safe, Nia.”
She grabbed the belt of Hel’s robe at the small of his back and followed him through the heavy door to a courtyard scene of arrested activity. Every person in the spacious area, and there were many, had paused in whatever they were doing, their attention riveted on Hel and Adonia as they exited Torre Bianca. The low hum of conversation began to rise in volume as their voices called excited words of welcome.
Adonia noted with a cry of gladness the presence of all her dear companions. Fleur stood with her two lovers—their conversation paused—relieved smiles lighting all three of their faces. Eric watched as Sophi tended a battered and bloody Ramsey. An equally disheveled Steffania collapsed on a low bench nearby, her left arm bound in a sling and her right forearm wrapped in a stark white bandage. All but Sophi, Ramsey and Steffania started toward them and that’s when Adonia noticed the piles of massive, misshapen creatures littering the courtyard.
She met Hel’s gaze. “What happened here?”
He shook his head in silence and turned to look at the tower door they had just walked through. Deep gouges that could have been claw marks raked the door diagonally and fist-size holes marred two of the timbers making up the door itself. “Something, or several somethings, tried very hard to gain entrance.”
They both swung their attention to where Sophi continued to dress Ramsey’s wounds. “I suspect we owe that pair more than we will ever know. I’ll ask, of course, but he won’t tell me—not what really happened,” Hel murmured. “Remind me of this the next time I want to kill him.”
Adonia simply hugged Hel closer before they descended the tower steps to meet Fleur, Ari and Doral. The three ruling heads of Verdantia walked up to her and, for a moment, she looked at faces that held veneration and wonder. Hel stepped behind her and rested his hands on her hips. She appreciated the physical support. She had no precedence in her life for such open tribute from those she considered far above her. How did one behave when publically revered by the queen and her consorts?
Ari was the first to speak.
“I saw you die, Adonia.” His gaze stopped at each person and returned to linger on her. “I saw each of you die. I have never felt such profound desolation. I lost who I was. Then, as if a mist cleared, I saw a different scenario. An immense blaze of light, like a newborn sun, seared through the darkness and began to dissolve the corruption eating our Great Mother and, suddenly, I recognized the despair that consumed me for what it was—a deceit, a dark lie, a curtain obscuring the truth—and I remembered my purpose.” His eyes caressed his queen and his second. “I remembered those I loved.” Ari swung his piercing gaze to Adonia and held her transfixed. “And then I saw you. I’ve had many interactions on the metaphysical plane. I’ve never seen anything as glorious as you. You radiated purity of love with the brilliance of a twined-star. Your light illuminated every dark crevasse and exposed every falsehood. There is no doubt in my mind. You determined our fate—individually and as a planet.”
All those who stood around her murmured their agreement, including Hel. Adonia stood stunned, aghast. Such generous accolades from Verdantia’s most elite left her floundering. She had no words. She’d done nothing noble. She’d had no altruistic motives. She’d simply tried to be a woman worthy of Hel. She had acted out of love for her prince. Her eyes fell. The High Lord’s words generated absolute confusion within her. She reached for Hel’s hand and pulled his arm around her waist, confounded at the unqualified praise heaped upon her from a man she considered austere and formidable. “Not me alone. It was all of us.”
The High Lord of Verdantia shook his head. “No. I arrogantly assumed nothing could take the surety of my love for Verdantia, my queen and my second from me; but when the corruption consumed me, I am ashamed at how quickly I lost my soul to despair.” Once again, his eyes scanned the small group. “We all did. The sole obstacle, the one star blazing with an undimmed truth—a truth that forced the Great Deceiver to spit us out—was you. We might have provided a diversion, pulled its attention away for an instant, but the telling blow was you, Lady DeCorvus, you and the dazzling host that attended you.”
“No. I…it wasn’t…” Looking up, she shook her head and held out her arms as if to beseech their understanding. Couldn’t they see how ordinary she was? She’d been a mere pawn in a greater game. It couldn’t be as he said.
“Prince DeHelios called you a treasure. He did not go far enough,” Ari asserted bluntly.
As always, when she most needed eloquence, the words flew away and left her mute. Adonia dropped her gaze and hid behind a fall of her hair, made awkwardly miserable by the esteem verging on reverence from those grouped around her.
Doral made a low sound and the left side of his mouth quirked upward. Was he amused by her tongue-tied misery? It seemed so. “You will be publically adored, Lady DeCorvus. Get used to it.”
“She is not leaving Nyth Uchel,” Hel warned, pulling her close to him.
Fleur smiled up at Adonia. “No, Prince DeHelios. She won’t have to. Verdantia will come to her.”
Chapter Twenty-five
Life became surreal. Adonia had difficulty keeping track of days and hours following those tortured times high in Torre Bianca’s keep. The heartbreaking number of sick and injured consumed almost all her energy as word spread throughout Verdantia that a powerful healer resided in Nyth Uchel and those suffering the aftereffects of the Great Deceiver converged on the fabled city. She spent all of her time healing but found to her fascination, that what had once been difficult was now as easy as breathing and she no longer needed Hel to anchor her.
The hours seemed to meld together and blend into days and those days into a week and then two and then three as all in Nyth Uchel labored to restore the city to her past glory. The defeat of the Great Deceiver combined with the resultant release of energy from three powerful combinations of highborn working the Great Rite accelerated the transformation of Nyth Uchel begun by Adonia and Hel. The legendary place she’d found awe inspiri
ng when frozen in ice burst apart with wonder after magickal wonder.
In the sickroom, the heavy tapestries had been pulled back and floor-to-ceiling double doors had been opened outward onto an enclosed garden. On the far garden wall, a small fountain danced into a natural pool, sending liquid notes of delight cascading into perfumed air. Adonia saw tiny jewel-colored birds flit from scarlet trumpet flowers, white spider-lilies, and blue scilla, jousting with fat bumble bees and pastel flutter-byes for the nectar. The temperate air burst through the doors with the smell of new life. Green foliage rioted everywhere.
The ornate gates of the Nyth Uchel stood wide in welcome to the outside world and children ran laughing through meadows of wild flowers where gravestones had once stood. One evening, Adonia had even seen a shy mother fricki and her fawn at the forest’s edge, browsing on the new meadow grass. Constructed entirely of diaman crystal, the very building stones of the city glowed with a luminosity that softened the dark of night to half-light for miles. The transformation of Nyth Uchel and its surrounding forests and fields from an ice-bound prison to a paradise made soft and new was jaw dropping.
Everywhere, people hugged their loved ones and rejoiced to be alive. It was a time to share laughter and companionship with those dear to you. Adonia ached to be with Hel. She missed Maddie and Sara. Those attending Adonia now were attentive, but strangers, and too much in awe of Nyth Uchel’s healer for easy conversation. Never good with words, she had not the slightest idea how to begin with them. She would have welcomed even Bernard. She missed her girl chats with Steffania, but like all those Adonia had spent her former days with, some task elsewhere in the city occupied Steffania. Adonia had lurked outside the family dining room, hoping to catch some dinner companions but the room had remained disappointingly vacant. After a couple of forlorn dinners eating alone, she’d had all meals delivered to her in the sickroom.
The Second Tetriarch had set up temporary housekeeping in the castle. The air rang with heralding fanfares as messengers and dignitaries from all points of the planet thundered over the eastern bridge, up the broad boulevard and through the open gates of Castle Nyth Uchel at all hours of the day and night. A steady river of people flowed into the city from every corner of Verdantia, filling the streets with laughter and commerce. Even lacking its front window and part of its kitchen, the char-house where she and Hel had escaped the ghouls did a thriving business. The atmosphere throughout the great city was one of exuberant rejoicing. It seemed to a dejected Adonia that she was the only one not wearing a ridiculous smile.
She had a major complaint, the absence of her prince—well, that and the baffling reverence with which people approached her. She didn’t know what they saw that caused such veneration. The mannish image reflected in her mirror had not improved; she still looked remarkably ordinary. She wanted Hel with an ever-present yearning. Through the sick room windows, she would catch glimpses of him with work parties, or hear his commanding voice in the halls, but of his company, the hard press of his body—she had a scant hour or two in the deep of the night. She crawled into their empty bed in the evening and sometime before dawn he would join her, pulling her to him with a soft murmur of love, but each morning she awoke alone but for her attendants. Early into the second week, she had tired of missing him and sought him out, finding him striding down a hallway with Ramsey, locked in argument. His clipped response, “Later, Nia,” to her welcome greeting and smile had stopped her in her tracks, and she never looked for him again.
With a heavy sigh, Adonia rose from the patient she’d been attending. I am simply lonely. It’s nothing new, and it won’t kill me. Get over it. A warm tickle blossomed in her gut and spread up her insides, raising gooseflesh on her arms. Her nipples hardened into tight buds. Adonia recognized the feeling she’d been missing for the past three weeks, and she slowly turned, a brilliant smile growing on her lips. There, canted in the doorway, looking worn but incredibly handsome, stood Hel. A tender half-smile curled his mouth. His eyes held hers steadily, and he raised a beckoning arm. With a chirrup of joy, she ran to him, laughing when he picked her up and kissed her soundly. “I’ve missed you, my prince,” she whispered against his lips, her arms wrapped firmly around his neck.
Still holding her, he backed out into the empty hallway and closed the sickroom door. “How I love you, Nia. I’ve stolen some time to spend with you.” His eyes caressed her as he loosened his hold, and she slid down his front to the floor. “Behold a very impatient bridegroom. The arrangements to make you my wife were complete two weeks ago. I’ve been waiting for the witnesses from each noble house to arrive. The last appeared this morning.” A contented smile tipped his lips, and he traced a gentle finger down her cheek. “So, my love, tomorrow at midday, with all due pomp and ceremony, I’m going to marry you. Afterward, the Second Tetriarch wants some sort of to-do announcing the defeat of the threat to Verdantia.” He shrugged. “All I’m interested in is making you mine.”
She blinked, owl-eyed, and then stared at his breastbone. This was really going to happen. She would publically and with finality, have her heart’s desire. Her throat thickened and hurt with the intensity of her joy.
Hel chuckled. “Did you hear me, Beauty? We wed tomorrow.” He leaned down to capture her gaze, and his eyes held hers expectantly. Second by second, pressure swelled within her to respond.
“Mmm-hmm.” She cleared her throat and wrestled with her wretchedly inadequate tongue. She searched to find words to convey the depth of her rioting elation. Her mind clamored that she must tell him of the thousand ways she desperately loved and adored him. She must speak to him of the fulfillment he’d brought her, of the joy she experienced each time he ran his hand over the slight swelling of her midsection, of the unfailing wonder she felt that he had chosen her. She blurted out, “I need a dress.”
She clapped a hand to her mouth and her shoulders sagged. Ohhh…how could I? Of all the…I don’t care what I wear. Her crestfallen dismay must have been apparent, for his laughter rang in the vacant hall. “Yes. You will need a dress.” He wrapped her calloused hand in his. “Come. Let’s see what we can find.”
~~~
“I hardly recognize you, Adonia.” Eric admired her from the doorway to her bedchamber and offered an arm. “As instructed, I’m here to escort you to Torre Bianca and your wedding.”
Sophi peeked at Adonia over his shoulder. “You look simply stunning, radiant. I don’t need to ask if you are happy. Are you ready to join your bridegroom?”
Adonia nodded and smoothed the front of her elaborate gown. She had spent a light-hearted interval with Hel yesterday rummaging through closets and closets of women’s gowns and accessories. The dress she wore now was the hands-down winner if she went by the look on his face when she slipped from behind the dressing screen to have him fasten it. The style was simple and the cut sophisticated. High necked and long sleeved, its iridescent panels of mother-of-pearl satin hugged her body in such a way as to make her look otherworldly and stunningly regal. Starting at her buttocks, where the skirt belled for walking, scrolls of gold, silver and amethyst beads, wrought in shapes of magical beasts, curled over her breast and shoulders and then down the free-flowing sleeves.
Her attendants had left her chocolate hair hanging free down her back, simply catching strands from the sides to sweep up into a basket weave braid ornamented with matching beading over the crown of her head. The final touch was a delicate tiara of filigreed gold—a statement of royal rank. She had protested. Hel had insisted. Guess who won. She rolled her eyes with a rueful huff and anchored the tiara more firmly on her head.
With a last smile of appreciation, Eric swirled a matching cape of the same iridescent cloth over her shoulders. He fastened the gold frog at her throat and then offered his arm. “Shall we, my lady?”
Adonia placed her hand on his forearm with a smile. “Gladly. Please don’t abandon me until I’m safely where I need to stand. I could break my ankle.” She held out her foot and showed Eric an
d Sophi the strappy gold and amethyst sandal with its tall, narrow heel and stacked sole. “I practiced walking in them last night, but I’m still as wobbly as a newborn fawn.” She met Eric’s admonishing gaze and winced. “Hel loves them. I can manage for one day.” What she didn’t feel the need to tell Eric was—at Hel’s insistence—while practicing her walk she’d worn nothing but the sandals. He’d been an appreciative audience. She’d been wet with need when he’d called a halt.
“Tonight you sleep alone, Beauty. I want you well-rested for tomorrow.” Hel had smiled as he’d swooped her up and laid her on the turned-down bed in the adjoining chamber. The desire in his eyes warmed her as he undid the straps to her sandals. “When I see you tomorrow in all your lovely finery, I’ll be remembering how you looked in nothing but these.” With a glint in his eye and her golden footwear dangling from his fingers, he sauntered out of her bedroom. She watched every step he took. The man had an exceptionally fine ass.
~~~
Now she stood beside Hel on the top step of the entrance to Torre Bianca and repeated the final words that would join her forever to her prince. Glorious blue skies created a sun-filled canopy and colorful flowers and greenery turned the unadorned patio into a floral arbor. The songbirds that accompanied their oaths were better than any hired musicians because they sang of returning life. No less than the stern High Lord of Verdantia administered their wedding oath while Fleur and Doral looked on, smiling. Eric and Sophi stood at her side, while Ramsey and Steffania stood at Hel’s. When Hel took her in his arms and sealed their binding with a gentle kiss, the masses in the central courtyard around Torre Bianca erupted into cheers that grew in volume when she and Hel turned to face the crowd. The tumultuous celebration continued for some minutes. It was brought to a good-natured halt when High Lord DeTano addressed the crowd in a solemn voice that carried across the thronged space.
Hers to Claim (Verdantia Book 4) Page 27
