Beginning's End

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Beginning's End Page 7

by M. Dalto


  There was a man leaning against the wall, his arms crossed over his chest, watching her in silence as she wore down the hallway carpet. Reylor could only assume it was her Emperor.

  “Sarayna,” he called to her, just loud enough to get her attention.

  The look in her eyes as she whirled to him was enough to confirm his suspicions—she had inherited her mother’s temper.

  “What the hell are you doing?” she shouted at him as she approached, her hands raised as though she would strangle Reylor if given the opportunity.

  “It’s a pleasure to see you as well. Was your journey fruitful?” He smirked, shooting a casual glance at the young man who stood a short way down the hallway. He straightened upon meeting Reylor’s gaze, brushing shaggy brown hair out of his face as he did so, and the Lord Steward had to wonder what stories the princess had already told him.

  Sara glanced over her shoulder as well, but quickly turned back to Reylor. “His name is Jared, yes he’s the Emperor, but none of this matters right now.” She pointed back down the hall, towards the direction of the Empress’ room. “What are you doing with my mother?”

  “Not here.”

  He glanced down the hallway to make sure no one was around and ushered them into an old room no longer in use after the palace’s destruction.

  Sarayna didn’t wait until the door was shut before she continued her verbal onslaught. “Are you sleeping with my mother?”

  Reylor never felt the need to explain himself, least of all to the Crown Princess of the Empire.

  “What did you do to her?” she accused, and something in her tone rubbed Reylor the wrong way. He pushed off the door and took a step into the room, towards the raging princess before him.

  “Your mother is an adult and your father is dead. She has every right to—”

  “Oh, is that what you’re telling her?”

  Reylor abruptly stopped and peered at her. “What are you talking about?”

  Sara scoffed and turned from him, turning back towards her Emperor—Jared—who shrugged as if answering a silent question. Reylor’s heart pounded in his chest.

  “Was this your plan all along?” Sarayna asked without turning back to him. “Take my father out of the equation so you could seduce my mother and have her for yourself?”

  “That is not what happened at all,” he started but something in the way she said it made him reevaluate his approach. “Are you saying Treyan...is alive?”

  She spun on him. “Don’t act like you don’t know!”

  He didn’t know.

  He ran his hands through his hair and closed his eyes. He needed to re-center. He needed to think.

  “Well?” Sarayna demanded, her arms crossed against her chest, her father’s blue eyes blazing into his.

  “Do not tell you mother,” was all Reylor could say for himself.

  Sara’s jaw dropped, but Reylor took a step towards her before she could say more.

  “Let me explain,” he started, daring a glance towards the new Emperor. “Your mother has been through a lot—so much since Treyan’s death and your departure. It wasn’t until this last month that she’s finally become herself again...”

  “I’m sure fucking you has been a real help.”

  “No one knows, Sarayna,” he snarled, feeling his own temper beginning to reach its pinnacle. “Until your mother says otherwise, it is to stay that way.”

  She looked as though she was going to argue further, but she hesitated. Reylor knew he was finally making her see reason. Or at least he thought he was.

  “You have one week.”

  “What?” Reylor gasped.

  “Sarayna,” the Emperor began.

  “Enough, Jared,” she hissed towards him, and he put up his hands in defeat.

  “Why a week?” Reylor asked, trying to piece the hidden message together.

  “Treyan and Saratanya were looking for a way to return. The moon is at its apex in two weeks. If we can get a Key working, they will be back. So either you tell her before he returns, or I will.”

  Reylor knew the color drained from his face, and Sarayna gave him a knowing smirk. The ramifications of Treyan’s return weren’t something he wanted to think about, at least not yet, and telling Alexstrayna about the possibility was lowest on his list.

  Alex had the right to know, but what Sarayna was doing to him was practically blackmail.

  He tried his best to look disinterested, to erase the panic that ate away at his soul.

  “Your quarters are as you left them,” he began, trying to regain control of the conversation. “You two should get some rest. I’m sure you’ve had quite the journey.”

  “But—”

  “There will be a Council meeting in the morning. You both are expected to be there, so come prepared.” His gaze met Sarayna’s again. “Your mother will be there, and I beg you to be on your best behavior.”

  “Don’t you dare—”

  “You’re the Crown Princess, Sarayna. People are now going to be looking to you to lead by example.” He nodded towards the silent Emperor. “You’re going to need to teach him if you two are to take over before the Borderlands do.”

  Mention of the Borderlands seemed to immediately change her demeanor, as Reylor hoped it would.

  “...have you heard from Lexan?”

  “No,” he said pointedly. “The less we hear from him the better. We’ll discuss this more in the morning. Now, if you’ll excuse me, the hour grows late.”

  “One week, Reylor,” Sarayna reminded him as he turned his back to her.

  One week to decide whether he would destroy everything he held dear, or if she would do it for him.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Lexan heard Razen’s footsteps upon the stairs well before he entered the room. The prince remained where he sat, staring out the window of his study with his tumbler of liquor in his hand. The land below was as desolate as ever, despite the growing armies they had tried to gather at Razen’s command. A constant fog seemed to cover the entirety of the Borderlands, making the tree line that separated the Borderlands from the Empire near-impossible to see from where he sat. Despite his misgivings, however, this had become his favorite view from the castle. He lounged in his chair, a leg casually thrown over one arm, and refused to acknowledge the Councillor as he waited in the doorway.

  “Princess Sarayna has returned to the Empire,” Razen announced by way of greeting. His tone was level, and Lexan knew he was there out of duty and obligation more than any actual desire. Whatever Razen thought of him—if anything at all—Lexan was still the Prince of the Borderlands, and it was through him this twisted Prophecy would come to fruition.

  “I am well aware,” was all Lexan said, and swallowed the rest of his drink in one gulp. For he had known the moment she stepped through the Key.

  He had warned her what would happen if she returned with her Emperor.

  She chose not to listen, and now there would be consequences.

  “We prepare to move tomorrow,” Razen pressed.

  “I’m sure you and the Empress have everything under control.” Lexan refused to look at him, now glaring into the distance as if he could see the Empire’s palace from where he sat, could look through a window and view his sister. He hoped she was well, and that her Emperor treated her better than he could say of his Empress.

  “Empress Crystallia is extremely invested in what’s best for the Borderlands, my prince. We all are...”

  “About as much as she’s invested between the sheets with you, I’m sure.”

  Razen didn’t even have the decency to deny it. “I assure you, my prince, no harm can or will come to the Empress.”

  “Of course it can’t—she’s already pregnant.” Lexan’s shoulders tensed. He wasn’t jealous of them—he had realized that some time ago, after he refused to share a bed with her any longer.

  A part of him still loved Crystal—the part of her that he was able to woo within the Otherrealm, the part that wanted
to be the mother of his child. It was the other parts of her—the parts that reminded him too much of what his father had done to his mother, or what Razen had manipulated him into doing—that he despised as he saw those same characteristics reflected in his wife.

  No, he was not jealous, for he would be more than willing to let go of the parts of her that would invite someone like Razen into their bed.

  Razen, the same man who had murdered his grandfather, banished his father, killed his uncle, threatened his sister, and terrified his mother.

  “Is there a problem, my prince?”

  “Not at all, Razen.”

  Lexan could almost feel the smugness in his silent response, and as he finally stood from his chair, he threw his glass at the wall, mere inches from Razen’s head.

  Razen barely flinched, and Lexan’s anger grew.

  “When does it end? First my grandmother, and now my wife. Why not add my mother to your list? Or is that what you have in mind for my sister?”

  “In regard to Saratanya, there is more than you realize, so I suggest you not speak of her again. As for your wife, it was her idea, not mine. I tried with your mother, but she refused my advances, and someone must pick up where you failed with Sarayna.”

  The smile that formed on the Councillor’s face was the epitome of all Lexan despised of this damn Prophecy.

  “Get out,” he finally ordered, pointing to the door.

  Razen merely shrugged. “You will learn, my prince, that in time, who shares my bed is the least of your concerns. We are all pawns in the Prophecy’s greater game, and nothing says I am not allowed to enjoy myself while it plays out.”

  “Get out,” he repeated through his teeth, his jaw clenched.

  With no more than a curt nod, Razen turned on his heel. “We advance in the morning,” he reminded Lexan. “I expect you to be sober when we greet your family.”

  Lexan slammed the door to his study without another word.

  The light from the orb created an eerie green glow within Lexan’s study during the early hours of the morning. “The suspicions are confirmed, then?” he asked into the ethereal globe.

  “Yes, my Prince. The princess arrived last evening.”

  “She was not alone, I am assuming?”

  “No, she did, in fact, bring back her Emperor.”

  “Was she welcomed with open arms?”

  “It is hard to decipher. There will be a Council meeting this morning where the princess and her emperor are debriefed. Your mother and father have been quite scarce as of late...”

  “Have they killed each other yet?”

  “On the contrary, my prince.”

  “...we will discuss that later. The Borderlands will begin their advance today, remaining at the tree line until the first signs of dusk. Will the Empire’s sentinel guards be removed?”

  “There has been an assignment on the outskirts of the Empire that will take most of their attention away from your entry point. The Mistress’ cabin sits empty and untouched.”

  “Make sure it stays that way. The Empress and the Councillor will stay within the castle. I will ride alone while the troops wait at the line. Without knowledge of their approach, any additional guard post should not even notice their presence. How goes the situation at the palace?”

  “Preparations from within have been slow as well, my prince. I have convinced one other member that we should take our time and better prepare our approach, but it is the Captain who insists we press on, even without the resources we need. There is a division within the Empire, and the lords are cautious to lend more support, I have heard.”

  “What is the cause of this division?” Lexan felt he already knew the answer, but wanted it confirmed.

  “Your father’s presence has many on edge, and the lords are hesitant to allow their soldiers into his control.”

  “Is there nothing my mother can do to assuage their concerns?”

  “Most see her as a mournful woman without her wits about her since the death of Prince Treyan.”

  That anyone would think his mother so weak sent a surge of anger along his spine. “Keep the Council divided—I would prefer as little bloodshed as possible, but there is no denying this advance any longer, especially with Sarayna’s arrival. I want a full report this evening after their meeting, and I especially need to know more about this Emperor.”

  “Of course, my prince.”

  The green orb disappeared just as the suns’ light began to brighten the hazy gloom of the Borderlands.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Alex hardly slept that night and having Reylor return to the room after his conversation with Sarayna didn’t help one bit.

  She almost wanted to tell him to go to his own quarters, but she knew that would solve nothing.

  Sarayna already knew, and there was no point in hiding it from her.

  She delayed longer than she should have while in bed the next morning, even when Reylor tried to coax her out of it.

  “You cannot hide from her,” he reminded her as he dressed.

  “I know,” she conceded, finally sitting up in bed. “I just…I need a little longer. Just to gather my thoughts.”

  He accepted it with a quick kiss. “Then I’ll see you at the Council meeting in an hour.” He left her to her own devices while she prepared herself for the inevitable.

  It was that Council meeting that kept her in bed, under her blankets, and dreading the world that awaited her outside her bedroom door.

  Having Saranya back meant there were now tasks that needed to be completed, decisions that needed to be made, and a future that needed to be planned for. Sarayna’s arrival seemed surreal, and Alex had almost convinced herself that it might never happen, but her daughter was back, and now hated her.

  Finally pulling herself out of bed, she decided she couldn’t wallow any longer. Alex had nothing to be sorry for, and nothing more to explain to her daughter than to mind herself and worry about her own personal relationships.

  They would have that talk once the Council meeting was over, and the Council members were satisfied with the new Emperor.

  She decided to dress her part today, choosing a flowing gown of green satin that swept the floor when she walked, her hair up and off her neck, her jewelry simple yet elegant. She didn’t wear the crown—she didn’t need to. It would be Sarayna’s soon enough, so she might as well get used to not having it upon her head.

  Another ceremony to be planned.

  The other Council members were already sitting at the table once Alex arrived. Reylor was nowhere to be seen.

  It was Jamison who caught Alex’s attention first, standing in her way towards her seat at the table, his eyes almost wild as he looked into hers.

  “Is it true then? She’s really come back?”

  Alex merely nodded and wondered how quickly the knowledge of the princess’ arrival had spread throughout the palace.

  “She’s done it! Treyan would be so proud of her.” He smiled at her proudly, as though Sara was his own daughter who had fulfilled her predestined fate against all odds.

  It was the mention of Treyan that sent her stomach into knots, and at that moment Reylor entered the room, seeing her and Jamison talking in the corner. His eyes narrowed slightly at the Captain of the Guard, who seemed to have taken a protective step closer to the Empress upon the Lord Steward’s arrival, but Reylor continued walking towards his seat at the opposite end of the table.

  Jamison’s stare followed him until he sat down before returning to Alex, unapologetic in his blatant distaste. “We’ll have to catch up later tonight. Perhaps you, Sara and her new Emperor can come to my cottage for dinner?”

  Alex avoided looking in Reylor’s direction, not that she felt the need to ask his permission. She wasn’t ready for questions, or inquiries, and she did want Sara to feel at home, so she nodded. “Of course. Dinner sounds fantastic.”

  Bowing his head, Jamison excused himself to take his seat, and Alex realized, looking at th
e table, that she no longer had one. The seat she sat in would be the new Emperor’s, and the one on his right would be for Sarayna. Jamison occupied the seat on the left, since Reylor was now the leader of the Council. Shrugging to herself, knowing all eyes were on her, she walked towards the back of the chamber, standing near Reylor’s chair. He turned to catch her eye, a brow perked in question, but she brushed him away with a flick of her wrist. She didn’t need a seat for this.

  And just in time for the Crown Princess’ arrival.

  She had bathed, Alex noticed—they both had—and changed into new clothing for the occasion. With her dark hair and blue eyes, Sarayna reminded Alex more of her father each time she saw her, and her heart now fluttered with pride. Sara wore a simple tunic, belted at the waist, over leggings and boots. Her hair was in a ponytail, and she looked ready for both battle and a ball. Ever the princess, Alex mused.

  Her Emperor walked in behind her, hesitant as he took in the unfamiliar surroundings.

  His brown hair was short and disheveled, and his grey eyes scanned the room, not nervously, but curiously. Alex watched him and recalled her first day being brought to the Council, with Treyan at her side, and the questions she needed answered before she would so willingly give her life towards a cause—a world—she knew nothing about.

  This would be Sarayna’s intended.

  Alex hoped he knew what he was signing up for.

  The princess’ presence, along with that of her Emperor, set the room on its feet, and Alex saw pride in Jamison’s eyes as he looked at her. Sara, to Alex’s surprise, turned to Jamison first and embraced him in a warm hug. The smiles on the other Council members faces showed they all were pleased with the princess’ safe return.

  All, it seemed, except Reylor.

  Alex suddenly had to know what the two of them had spoken about the night before.

  Alex would have stepped towards her daughter, embraced her as Jamison had, if Reylor hadn’t cleared his throat and stood, silencing the rest of the room, receiving a stare from Sara in the process.

 

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