Voice of Dominion (The Spoken Mage Book 3)

by Melanie Cellier

  He leaned down until our faces were as far apart as our bodies—a mere breath.

  “I’m saying that for the kingdom you were right—we need to bring change.” He paused, and for a moment the garden was still, except for our ragged breaths. “And I’m saying that for me, you were even more right. I need us to be together—truly together no matter what laws I have to overturn to achieve it. I cannot bear to be always so close to you, and yet so far away. I cannot keep on like this. I will fight for us. I have to fight for us.”

  The inferno leaped from my control, burning everything in its path. I didn’t wait to hear any more. Pushing myself forward and up, I closed that last agonizing space between us and pressed my lips to his.

  He responded instantly, sweeping his arms around me and crushing me tightly against him. Our lips molded together, as our hearts had already done, and I never wanted it to end.

  When he pulled away, panting, a tiny groan escaped me, and he pulled me back in for another kiss. The next time he came up for air, he gripped my arms and took a full step away from me.

  He trembled a little, even as he chuckled.

  “Don’t look at me like that, Elena. I have some things I need to say to you, and all I want to do is kiss you when you look at me like that.”

  “Is that so bad?” I asked, but I maintained the distance he had set between us. Because he was right. There were things that needed to be said, and I was as distracted by his nearness as he apparently was by mine.

  “I want you to know that I mean every word of what I just said,” he told me.

  My heart sank. There was a but coming. And sure enough…

  “But this news.” He gestured between us. “You and me. That’s the sort of thing I need to tell my parents in person. I owe that much to them. And even if I didn’t, we need them to hear it directly from me. If someone else gets in their ear first, if we return to find them already turned against you…” He looked genuinely afraid. “Then I don’t know how much I’ll be able to do.”

  “What does that mean?” I asked slowly.

  “It means this has to remain a secret for now. Our secret.” He looked into my eyes. “From everybody.

  “But just for now,” he hurried to add. “As soon as we get back to Corrin, I’ll talk to my parents. And no matter what they say, I’m not giving you up. I’ll make them see how strong you are. How there couldn’t be anyone better for the royal family.”

  I flushed as the reality of what he was saying sank in. The royal family. Lucas intended to fight for the right to become betrothed to me. Elena of Kingslee. He wanted to make me a princess.

  It didn’t feel real. Until I looked into his eyes and remembered this was Lucas. And then it was all too incredibly, wonderfully, deliriously real. I tried to make my mind focus.

  “Does that mean…should you be returning to the party now?” I tried not to let the disappointment sound in my voice.

  “No.” He tugged at my hand again, but this time he pulled me behind him rather than drawing me close, leading me through the garden. “Tomorrow I will return to thinking about what my duties as a prince require from me. But I must have one night. Just a few hours with you before I keep my distance again. Just a few hours of my birthday to be spent as I wish. Tomorrow we go back to normal. Tonight there is a celebration going on, and I think no one will miss us until dawn.” He looked back at me, his eyes flashing in the moonlight, and I realized what he intended. My steps quickened.

  When we reached our tents, he pulled me close and whispered in my ear.

  “As utterly delicious as you look in that dress, I’m afraid it stands out a little too much. Meet back here in two minutes?”

  I nodded before tumbling into my tent and overturning my small storage trunk in search of something more subtle. My hands found the plain gray uniform I had only ever worn once before. I hesitated for a moment and then thrust it on.

  As fast as I had been, Lucas still beat me back out. He wore a plain leather outfit, the kind he probably wore daily beneath his white robe. He still looked commanding, though, and too handsome to be real. But at least he’d lost the circlet.

  His eyes widened slightly when he saw my uniform, but I shrugged, and he said nothing. His intention had been to blend in, after all.

  Tucking my arm into his, Lucas pulled me into the flickering darkness. The bonfires sent dancing shadows everywhere between the tents, and the music and laughter filled every crack. When we found a group of dancers, Lucas wrapped me in his arms. We didn’t try to talk, instead just soaking in the other’s nearness. We danced until our ragged breath demanded we search out a drink, and then we found one in the mess tent, along with the leftovers of what had clearly been a bountiful feast.

  When we stepped back out into the night, Lucas pulled me into the dark shadows around the side of the tent and pressed a kiss against my lips. I stood up on my tiptoes, stretching to meet him, only to pull back at a burst of raucous laughter.

  Three soldiers emerged from between the tents, calling good-natured insults at us. None of them gave any indication of recognizing us, though, so we merely laughed along with them and took off for a different bonfire.

  The rest of the night passed that way, with dancing and heady, stolen kisses in dark corners. Dawn was beginning to lighten the darkness the tiniest fraction when Lucas gave me one final kiss, holding me tight and long, all his emotions in the embrace. The night was ending, and somehow we had to return to normal. At least for a little while.

  I was the one to finally pull away.

  “This is already the best birthday I’ve ever had,” he whispered into my hair. “I don’t want the dawn to come.”

  “It’s not as if one of us is going away forever,” I said. “It won’t be long, and we’ll be back in Corrin.”

  He took a long breath, giving me a final squeeze. “Back in Corrin.”

  When I sneaked into my tent, even breathing echoed throughout it, much to my relief. I hesitated beside Coralie’s bed, mourning that I wouldn’t be able to talk over the night with my friend.

  “Back in Corrin,” I whispered to myself.

  I hurried out of my gray uniform, shoving it down to the bottom of my trunk, and climbing underneath the blankets. Sleep claimed me almost instantly, but not before it occurred to me that although Natalya lay still in her cot, from her alone I hadn’t heard the heavy breathing of sleep.

  We all slept late the next morning, and when we stumbled into the mess tent at lunchtime, we were relieved to find them serving breakfast food.

  “Don’t think you were the only ones having a good time last night,” one of the soldiers behind the serving bench said with a wink.

  Natalya turned away in disgust, but I smiled back at him. She crossed the tent to slide in beside Lucas, and I nearly tripped over my own feet. He looked up, and for the briefest instant, our eyes met. Then he was looking at Natalya again, his face calm as if nothing had happened.

  My heart raced, and my palms went clammy. Lucas was a prince. He had twenty years of practice at this. But could I do it? Could I look at him as if last night had never happened?

  Coralie followed my gaze. “Never mind her. I haven’t told you off properly yet for stealing away last night when we weren’t looking.” She sat down and groaned. “I have not had enough sleep. Consider your chastisement completed.”

  “I didn’t think you looked like you had much need of me.” I raised both eyebrows at her.

  Instead of flushing, as I had expected, she looked away, tearing at her roll with nervous fingers.

  “Come on,” I said. “Bring your food.” We needed to talk—properly—and I needed space from Lucas.

  I led her to the grassy patch where we had exchanged presents the morning before. I settled myself comfortably on the ground before turning to her.

  “All right, it’s time to tell me what’s going on with you and Finnian. You told me that you didn’t want to get serious while we were still at the Academy. That neither
of you did. But I’m starting to wonder if Finnian knows that.”

  I bent a stern glare on her until she sighed and threw the grass she had been shredding into the air.

  “Fine. There might be a little more to it than that.” She sighed, looking away, and I ate quietly, letting her find her words in her own time.

  “It’s not that what I said isn’t true,” she said at last. “I don’t think getting serious at the Academy is the wisest idea.”

  My guilty mind flashed back to the promises Lucas and I had already exchanged, but I thrust them away. What existed between Lucas and me wasn’t a fling, a relationship that might end and make our final year awkward. With every barrier that stood between us, only utter determination had even gotten us this far.

  “But…” She swallowed audibly and looked down at the ground. “Maybe I’d be willing to rethink that if it wasn’t Finnian.”

  “What do you mean? Coralie, I know Finnian is a bit of a flirt, but everyone knows he doesn’t mean it. It’s just his manner. It’s different with you. I can tell.” I hesitated, watching her face with concern. “To be honest, I don’t think his heart has been in it this year. I get the impression that whenever he pays me extravagant compliments, or hugs me, it’s just an excuse so he can do the same to you.”

  She looked up at me quickly, and I knew her expression too well from the other side to misread it. It was hope mixed with a desperate desire not to feel hope.

  But when she spoke, her voice didn’t sound hopeful. “It’s not the way he acts. It’s who he is. I know that from the outside we probably look like one big privileged group, but on the inside…” She sighed. “You’ve been living among us for over two years now, Elena. You know what I mean. It’s not just that Finnian is a Callinos. He’s the son of a duke. He can flirt with whoever he wants. Dance with them. Kiss them even. But the son of the Head of the Healers isn’t going to marry a Cygnet. And I have no intention of having my heart broken.”

  I stared at her in dismay. “Any more than it already is,” I whispered.

  “Any more than it already is.”

  Chapter 18

  Several waves of new conscripts came quickly one after another in the new year. They looked young, scared, and bewildered as they wandered around camp.

  “I didn’t think we’d be here long enough to feel like old hands,” said Coralie, watching a couple of particularly young-looking soldiers gaze around the mess tent in dismay.

  Finnian frowned at her and then at them. He hadn’t been his usual joking self since Midwinter.

  “No,” he said, “I can’t say I thought we would be either.”

  Neither of them looked at me, but I looked down into my bowl anyway. I knew why we were still here, but there was nothing I could do about it. It didn’t matter how much General Griffith wanted things to be different—my energy had limits, and no amount of training could circumvent them. I wasn’t making the progress he wanted.

  Even if my friends didn’t blame me, others did. Natalya returned to her usual griping, taking swipes at me whenever the opportunity presented itself. I let it roll off me as I had always done, but I couldn’t shake the feeling there was an extra edge to her now. That her tone held the smallest note of smug satisfaction, and that her gaze followed me more than usual.

  When she was around, I tried even harder than usual not to look at Lucas. It was a battle I frequently lost, and all too often when I gave in and snuck a glance in his direction, I found him looking at me.

  When I turned to pass between two tents on the way to composition class one afternoon and smashed into a solid pack of soldiers heading in the other direction—sending me straight to the ground—he was at my side before anyone else could move. I accepted the hand he held out but snatched it away as soon as I was back on my feet, conscious of Natalya and Lavinia’s heavy gazes. But the heat of his fingers burned my hand for hours afterward, and we accidentally locked gazes so many times I had to excuse myself from class before one of us did something stupid.

  That evening at dinner, I arrived a little late, and my eyes searched him out as I waited in line for food. He stood to one side of the mess, a tray bearing the remains of his meal in his hands. But though his guards followed him, as they always did, they stood several steps away, giving him space for whatever conversation he was conducting.

  The older man standing with him held himself in a respectful posture, despite the age gap between them. But his face held none of the surprise or confusion I might have expected a commonborn veteran to feel if he found himself approached by royalty. Had they spoken before?

  I frowned at the man. He looked familiar. He shifted slightly, coming into better view, and the movement jogged my memory. Lannis. The veteran who had sensed something was off about the gully.

  I realized the line ahead of me had moved, leaving a gap, and I shuffled several steps forward. But my eyes remained on the conversation on the other side of the tent. What were they discussing?

  Their body language shifted, farewells clearly being exchanged, and I looked away quickly before either of them could notice me watching. But out of the corner of my eye, I tracked Lucas as he disposed of his tray.

  His passage through the tent brought him right past the line where I waited, and he shifted slightly as he passed me, brushing lightly against my arm.

  “Midnight. Here.” He spoke so quietly, I wondered if I had imagined the words.

  Hours later, I lay in bed, buzzing with far too much energy to be in danger of falling asleep, counting down the minutes. When it finally approached midnight, I got up, threw on my warmest outfit and hurried for the mess tent.

  Hands reached out from the dark and grabbed me before I made it through the entrance, pulling me around the side of the tent instead. My tiny startled squeak was silenced by his lips against mine, and I melted into his embrace.

  A sound off to one side made us both jump, leaping apart, but it was only a soldier wending his way through the tents. He disappeared without seeing us, but my heart continued to beat at a frantic pace.

  “How much longer is the general going to keep us cooling our heels here?” he growled, frustration in every line of his body.

  “I don’t know,” I said. “But unless you want us to be caught—or me to have a heart attack—we can’t meet like this.”

  Rather than replying, he wrapped me in his arms again and lowered his head for a kiss.

  “I think we should be able to push for our departure in the next couple of weeks,” said Lorcan’s voice from inside the mess.

  We leaped apart again as he exited the tent, Thornton beside him. Lucas’s startled movement placed him partially in a shaft of moonlight, and Lorcan frowned in our direction.

  “Lucas? Is that you?”

  I shrank back further into the shadows, turning my face away from them, afraid to move too much in case I called attention to myself. With a single longing look in my direction, Lucas stepped toward our instructors.

  “Lorcan. Thornton.” He nodded at them both.

  “Having trouble sleeping, are you?” asked Lorcan. When Lucas said nothing, he took his silence for acquiescence. “It’s these blasted cots. I haven’t been sleeping too well either.”

  Their voices faded as the three of them moved off toward our sleeping tents. I waited a long time, pressed into the canvas, before I dared follow.

  We didn’t try such a rendezvous again.

  I took hope from Lorcan’s overheard words, but the following week the weather changed. A sudden spike in temperature caused an explosion of greenery all around us. Returning patrols reported the river was swollen and dangerous.

  Two days later a loud clanging rang through the camp. Captain Matthis paused in my training at the sound of the bell, frozen for a single second before he launched back into movement.

  “The alarm bell.” He gazed at me for one longing moment, and then barked, “Get back to Thornton. I’m needed.”

  He was gone before I had fully proc
essed his words. But I understood his look. He had considered ordering me to accompany him, had wanted to do so.

  I hurried back to the other trainees. No attacks had occurred close enough to camp to warrant the warning bell before this, and they looked just as uncertain as me. Thornton took charge, however, wasting no time getting us straight through the tents and into the walls of Bronton. The huge gates clanged shut behind both us and the final stragglers among the local townsfolk, an enormous crossbeam lowered to keep them in place.

  Thornton led us up to headquarters, staring down the two soldiers who tried to deny us entrance. Lieutenant Martin, who happened to be passing through the entryway, waved us in.

  “Don’t blame them,” he said, once we had all been ushered inside. “They have orders not to let anyone below the rank of captain in once the alarm bells sound.” He grinned. “You lot don’t quite fit into our structure here, you know.”

  Thornton gave him an icy look. “You will ensure we are not so barred again, I hope.”

  “I’ll pass the word on,” Martin promised. As I filed past him, he grinned at me. “That is what us aides are here to do,” he said, too quietly for Thornton to hear.

  I smiled back, but another pair of lieutenant-aides hurried past, calling to him as they went, and he was off running.

  We found Lorcan with Griffith in the old ballroom. The Academy Head greeted Thornton with a tense nod, but when the general looked up, he didn’t take our presence so calmly.

  “What is this?” he roared. “A circus? Get them out of here.”

  “They are here to learn,” said Lorcan calmly. “And here is an opportunity for them to observe how headquarters command an engagement from afar.”

  Griffith stared at him for several seconds, but an aide behind him called his title, and he turned abruptly, appearing to lose all memory of our presence.

  The alarm bell only rang if signs of a large attack were discovered. And this room was the center of coordinating our defense. Lieutenant-aides ripped composition after composition, holding the resulting balls of power to the general’s face so he could bellow his orders into them. Another three sat in a quiet room next door, running back and forth to deliver the messages they received in reply.