Forest Fire (#2 The Legends of Regia)
Page 10
The smell of the coming sunrise invigorated Syrus. He toyed with the flask for a moment, deliberating. He could use his incantation to restore his sight partially but he really hated doing that because it was so disorienting. Blurry and fragmented. Blood was required for clarity. Desperately wanting to see the sunrise and the beauty of the day's first light caressing Forest's skin, Syrus decided to drink the last of his human blood. The pain tore through him like a broken blade, twisting, stabbing, rending, and burning until it pushed through his eyes and his pupils stretched open.
He braced his hands on the window, panting and looked at the sunrise for one second before turning to gaze upon the only real sun in his world, Forest. He knelt next to the bed, much as he had the first time he'd looked at her. And just as it had the first time, again her beauty stole his breath. This pure, fierce, fragile beauty, her true face, his sole possession, that no one else could see.
Syrus gently smoothed a strand of hair from her face. "You don't know, do you?" he whispered, "Just how special you are. Or what I would do for you. How you torment me. Tempt me. Make me burn."
As he had done the first time, Syrus lifted a handful of her long curly hair and brought it to his lips. "I love you…with all that I am or ever hope to be." He couldn't wait any longer. His vision would fade all too quickly, and he had to look into her eyes. He hovered over her, his lips a breath from hers. "Forever," he breathed and pressed his lips against hers, waking her with a kiss.
The world of her eyes opened to him and shot through his core. Eye contact, so rare for the two of them, sent a jolt to both of their hearts. Nothing existed, just them. All worries forgotten as they sank into each other, the barriers were torn slowly, so slowly away.
****
Never had Forest experienced anything to rival the slow love they made that morning. Intensity without end and no inclination to hurry. Syrus said nothing to her with words, only his eyes. Her spirit rose through her skin as he worshiped her, yes worship was what it was. And after he took her there, to the edge of what was physically possible, he pushed her even higher and threw her into oblivion where she knew nothing but the depth of his love for her.
She rested her forehead against his, watching his eyes slowly begin to close. No. Keep looking at me, Syrus. The last moment sped by too quickly as his pupils dissolved into the pearl gray of his irises. And as his vision faded so did the warm wonderment of her afterglow.
Forest pulled away from him and into herself, feeling as through mud spread through her body just under her skin. She pulled the cover up over herself, not wanting to see her own flesh. "I told you I didn't want to make love until I was free of my slave mark."
Syrus chuckled, not taking her seriously. "Well, there's that saying about actions speaking louder than words…" he sobered. "I forgot. It seems you did too. I won't apologize, Forest, not for something so beautiful."
"Beautiful?" she spat getting out of bed and wrapping herself in a robe, only to sink onto the floor the next moment, weeping. "I ruin everything."
Syrus came to her and clasped her shoulders bracingly. "Stop it!" he ordered.
"I ruin everything," she repeated, "because I am ruin. Dross, worthless…I shouldn't even exist. I don't deserve your love."
Syrus lifted her chin, anger pulling through the muscles of his face. "I know I can't stop you from feeling something, but don't you ever say that to me again."
Forest jerked her face out of his grasp. "Don't touch me. I'm another man's slave."
Syrus grabbed her by the shoulders again. "Dammit, Forest!" he shouted. "Where the hell is this coming from? You're no man's slave, especially not that piece of shit's downstairs! That scar means nothing. It's just the illegitimate claim of a bastard, unworthy to kiss your feet."
She broke down crying.
"Let's get dressed and go take care of this once and for all."
"Huh?" she asked.
"Come on." He stood, offering her his hand. "Leith is waiting. We can do it together. Let's free you."
Forest didn't move to take his hand. "I want to kill him alone. I need to do it that way."
"Fine," he said testily, striding to the closet. "Do it by yourself. Just hurry up. I can't stand to be under the same roof as him much longer."
A sudden loud knock on the door jolted her to her feet. She wiped the tears from her cheeks and belted her robe. "Who is it?"
"Zeren," the king bellowed jovially.
"One moment." She looked at the closet door and Syrus came out fully clothed.
He strode to the door and opened it.
"Good morning!" Zeren exclaimed clapping Syrus on the shoulder. His happy expression faltered as his eyes fell on Forest. "Is everything all right? I could come back later."
"Everything's fine," Forest said quickly, forcing a smile.
"Good! Good." Zeren turned his attention solely to Syrus. "It's going to be a busy day. The officers are back, and there's going to be a war council in about an hour. I need you there, son. Much will be discussed. Important things. Visitors will be joining us, Fortress' high council, and the Rune-dy."
"But Father," Syrus protested. "I haven't even decided if I'm ready for the world to know I'm alive. I mean the high council knows but the officers don't."
Zeren waved away Syrus' concern loftily. "You have to come back to life some time. What better time than today?"
Syrus turned his face to Forest. "What do you think?"
"It's your choice," she said flippantly.
Syrus heard more than her words and almost smiled. Pissed off was way better than sad and crying. "Forest and I need to decide this together. Would you give us some privacy?"
"Of course." Zeren looked back at Forest. "Today will be busy for you too, my dear. We're going to have a state dinner tonight. All the highest-ranking vampires will be there. They're all anxious to meet my special guest." He winked at her conspiratorially. "Be sure to wear your best. They are unfortunately, a rather superficial bunch."
"But…" Forest panicked.
"Don't worry. If you need help getting ready, just send for a few handmaidens. Now that the queen is gone, they have nothing to do. I'm sure they'd be overjoyed to do your hair and make-up."
Forest's hands clenched into fists as Zeren left the room. Syrus laughed after he shut the door behind his father.
"What are you laughing at?" She demanded.
"I'm just picturing you being primped by a gaggle of my mother's old courtiers."
Forest gritted her teeth. "Hair and make-up, my ass."
Syrus pulled her into a tight hug. "Now you sound like the woman I fell in love with."
"Are you going to that meeting?"
"Do you think I should?"
"Well, one of us needs to know what is going on. But you don't have to go as yourself, you know?"
"You mean I should go in disguise?" he asked.
"Yeah. It might give you an edge, apart from holding off on letting the world know you're alive. Trust me. I know what it's like to glean information from people who don't know who they're talking to."
"You don't want people to know I'm alive?"
"I want it, if you want it. But once you let them know, you can't take it back."
Syrus looked thoughtful. "Hmm. True…I think I will wait a little longer."
"So you'll go to the meeting incognito?" she pushed.
"I guess so."
"Good. I really want to know what is going on."
"I'll tell you everything." He kissed her forehead. "I'm going to tell Redge the plan. I'll see you later."
"Okay," she said dejectedly to his retreating back. Then she was alone. The mock princess left waiting in her tower.
Chapter Fourteen
Forest paced down the center of the closet with a grimace on her face, the fabric of the hanging dresses brushing her shoulders. She didn't want to play dress up. She didn't want to play princess. She wanted to run away. Only her crushing resolve not to embarrass Syrus kept her from slas
hing the contents of the closet to ribbons. Fine, fine, FINE! If she had to dress up at least she'd force herself to find a dress she could stand to be seen in. She pushed down her ire and began really looking at her new clothes.
She designated a place on the rack to put dresses she knew she would never wear. Every article of clothing with any shade of pink went onto that rack, along with the overly sparkly, puffy sleeved, and anything with bows. Once she was done weeding, she found a few garments she could picture herself in, and three in particular she could almost get excited about: a liquid black dress that ran over her body like water, a green gown that matched her eyes and created the effect of a dragonfly, and lastly a red that blazed and danced like fire in the light. She decided to wear the red to the party and set her hair color to match. If she had to play the part, at least she could be intimidating in the role.
Forest stopped moving and stood stone still, an empty hanger clutched in her hands. Role, playing a role, that's what she'd been thinking. She clenched her teeth as her temper flashed. She was thinking about the whole thing all wrong, as if she was still a Fortress Operative and everything in front of her was simply an assignment to get through. She looked down at the hanger in her hands and snapped it. This was her life. If she chose wrong or if she failed, something far greater than a demotion was at stake. Her heart, soul, livelihood, reputation, and happiness shimmered in the distance. However, before she could grasp her desires, she must vault the hurdles at her feet.
She took a deep breath. Like it or not, this was her closet. These were her clothes. Well, acceptance didn't mean she couldn't change things to suit her better. She was a fighter, and she'd never stop fighting, but she could solider-on with more precision and less flailing.
Forest didn't hear the soft knock on the door, or the creak of the hinges when it was opened.
"Forest?"
She came out of the closet, still in her robe, and faced Rahaxeris. She hadn't expected to see him and took a second to school her expression and tone of voice. He held a large flat box in front of him.
"Ah, Daddy," she said in a sweet, mocking little girl way.
He smirked in response. "Here, put this on and be quick about it." He pushed the box into her arms.
"Now you're trying to dress me up, too? Is it something pretty to wear to the party?" Acid dripped through her tone.
Rahaxeris laughed, a frightening, terrible laugh. "Just open it."
Instead of a frilly dress, there was a plain black hooded robe inside, with long sleeves and a single R embroidered on the right breast in gold. "What is this for?"
"An important meeting is about to begin. This robe will mark you as my personal secretary so you may attend."
"The war council?"
"That's right."
"I don't think I was invited. I'm not supposed to…"
"Since when have you cared about following any rules? Smuggler." He smiled indulgently.
When she hesitated, he pushed. "Unless you'd rather get back to picking shoes to match your bag for this evening?"
Forest huffed. "Hell no. I'll be ready in a minute."
She quickly threw on the clothes she'd worn the day before and slid the robe on over the top. She regarded her appearance in the mirror for a second. She still had the same face she'd constructed for her first interview with her father.
"Should I change my face?" she asked as she came out of the bathroom.
"Well, that's up to you. I think you should consider picking a look you want the public to recognize. If you decide to accept the title of Hailemarris, or if you become queen, people will need some continuity from you."
Forest hesitated.
"I like this face. It seems…natural," Rahaxeris said.
"That's because it is very like my true face."
Rahaxeris smiled. "I'm sure Syrus must feel very lucky when he gets to look at you."
Forest could feel the pressure of oncoming tears, unsure why the pressure was there at all. Her father had paid her a compliment. He thought she was beautiful. Now more than ever, she was amazed that she could want his approval, but she did.
"How am I to behave in this meeting?"
"As my secretary, you'll not be expected to speak. Sit next to me on my left. Take notes."
"You want me to take notes?" Forest was incredulous.
"No, I don't care. Just look as though you're taking notes. I'll introduce you to the group."
Forest's eyes widened.
"Just as my secretary, not my daughter. Unless you've already decided to claim your birthright?"
"I haven't decided yet."'
Rahaxeris shrugged but he didn't hide his disappointment. "Are you ready?"
****
Forest entered a large room that highly resembled a set for a movie about King Arthur. Tapestries lined the walls, depicting great Regian battles. The round table in the center of the room was massive, and its surface was painted with a map of the world. Security ogres stood at the only entrance, looking bored.
She stood close behind Rahaxeris, trying to look relaxed and right. The room was full of people, some she recognized, some she didn't. There were only two other women present, Gagnee and Zefyre from Fortress' high council. Forest spotted the other priests of the Rune-dy, murmuring to themselves in a corner, their golden robes providing the only color in the room as everyone else wore black. Her stomach gave a little jerk when she spotted Syrus, his face hidden in the shadow of a hood. His lips tightened as she looked at him. Of course he knew she was there, he could smell her. Was he upset at her? Zeren mingled around his glowering officers, who seemed resolved to snub the elves.
"This is quite a turn of events, isn't it?" a familiar voice said behind her.
Forest turned to see Kindel smiling at her. Never had she been so happy to see him and barely refrained from hugging him. "It's good to see you," she said emphatically.
"And you. Look at you! Back from banishment and on top of the world." He gestured to the gold R on her lapel. "Being declared princess isn't enough for you, eh? Got to stick your nose in politics, too."
Forest snorted. "Keep your voice down. I haven't been declared anything."
"Yet," Kindel added slyly.
Forest sighed. "Right."
"I've got to get back to my side of the table. Can we talk later?"
"Definitely."
A nervous quiet settled over the room as Rahaxeris was noticed. All eyes turned on him.
Zeren came forward. "Gentlemen, and ladies, we are all here now. Let us sit and discus the future of our great world."
Chairs scraped the floor. Forest sat on Rahaxeris' left as he had told her to. Zeren sat on the other side, directly across, with Syrus a few seats down from him looking withdrawn and unimportant. No one seemed to notice him. Forest tried not to stare.
"Not everyone is acquainted," Zeren announced. "Let us make introductions. First, I'm sure all of you who have regularly sat at this table with me have noticed the addition of our friends, the Rune-dy."
A murmur of assent went around the table.
"Let us all welcome them as brothers. Please stand and introduce yourselves."
As High Priest, Rahaxeris went first. He rose fluidly from his chair and gave a little bow to the room. "Thank you, Zeren. I am Rahaxeris, High Priest of the Rune-dy. We are honored to be among you today. I know that change can be uncomfortable for some and is often met with resistance and suspicion. The Rune-dy has largely worked to benefit the overall well-being of Regia for centuries, and we have done so predominantly in the shadows. But no more. The time has come for more direct, transparent involvement on our part in the machinery of this world."
Forest looked at the faces of Zeren's officers. She could tell they were listening attentively. Every face held some level of resentment and all had traces of fear behind their eyes. As her glance roved around the table, she caught the eye of a few people: Kindel, who winked and gave her a little side smile, Zefyre, who looked nervous and quickly look
ed away, and one of Zeren's battle worn generals, who surveyed her with interest and masculine appreciation. Forest's eyes settled again on Syrus. Rahaxeris continued to speak, but his words faded into a murmur in the background until he touched her shoulder.
"And when I am not present, my secretary, Forest, will stand in my stead."
Forest hesitated a split second, unsure if she should stand or not and decided to just nod her head once in acknowledgment and respect to the room. She expected half the room to jump to their feet and demand that the abomination be removed from the room. But no one said anything.