“I think I read a book like that,” Veria giggled, a hand placed gently on her soft bump.
“Oh, did you now? Was the main character dashingly handsome and completely satisfying in the bedroom?” Strelzar asked, lowering his eyebrows and pursing his lips into a seductive-looking smooch.
“Oh, yes, the most handsome ever, and the best in bed,” Veria nodded dramatically, her tone facetious.
Strelzar placed his hands behind his head, interlocking his fingers and letting his arms fall wide to the sides as he leaned back in the bench casually. “See? Then it was definitely about me.”
Two weeks later, the castle was buzzing with news of Ambassador Villicrey's miraculous escape from his kidnappers, and that he would be visiting to report to the King that afternoon.
Veria remembered his promise that he would find a way to check on her with a clammy, nervous, but anxiously longing feeling that persisted from the first time she heard his name that morning at breakfast until finally, just before dinner, a knock sounded at her bedroom door and made her jump.
She opened it, and her heart almost jumped out of her chest when she saw him, still thinned in the face and tired looking, but healthier than she had left him, beaming at her with a crooked smile and twinkling, coacoa eyes. She suppressed herself from smiling widely and throwing herself into his arms, as he stood practically elbow to elbow with a castle guard, and managed to just give him a polite grin and a curtsey.
“Ambassador Villicrey has requested to visit with you, Lady Veria,” the guard said. “He brings a message for you from Ambassador Yoro of Barril, my Lady.”
“Oh, that's wonderful,” Veria smiled. “Yes, um, could we have a few moments alone in the library, do you think?”
“Yes, my Lady,” the guard said with a short bow. “I shall wait in the hall to escort Ambassador Villicrey out when you are finished.”
She and Andon went one door down to the King's library and entered. It was vacant, but a pleasantly grand fire roared and crackled in the fireplace.
“A message from Yoro?” Veria asked once they were in and the door was shut.
“Well, he did really tell me to give you his fondest, warmest greetings and he hopes you will visit again. And he said to give you this,” Andon pulled something small from his pocket. “I don't know why the Separatists didn't take it, as they took all my money and everything else that was valuable on me.”
He held out his hand to reveal a tiny turquoise band that immediately reminded her of the beautiful turquoise buildings and rolling ocean waves on the horizon from her window in Barril. Andon slipped it on her finger slowly, her entire body shivering as he took her hand in his and slid the ring down her finger. He inhaled sharply, and Veria thought maybe he was feeling the same shivers she was.
“He also asked me to give you this,” Andon murmured. Then he leaned in slowly and pecked her on the cheek, the touch of his lips to her soft skin flushing the entire side of her face with warmth. “I told him I'd be happy to oblige.”
“This is all very sweet of him. I shall have to get a letter to him immediately,” Veria said softly, still enjoying the linger of Andon's brief kiss. “How have you been, since returning home?”
“Smothered all day and night by my father and Emmandia,” he replied, and Veria grimaced slightly at the mention of his fiance, but hid it quickly. “And yourself?
“Smothered sounds exactly right,” she grumbled.
“But he is...treating you well?” Andon asked.
“Oh, yes,” Veria groaned. “I mean, too well. I feel like a prize horse or a toddler. I am doted on and cared for and told what to do every minute of every day, and I hate it.”
“You always did like being in charge,” Andon smirked. “It will be over soon,” he added, his voice full of assurance.
“Will it?” Veria frowned.
“You will have the child soon, and if it's his, he will turn his doting attentions to the babe, and leave you to do as you wish,” Andon said softly.
“And if it's not...his?” Veria asked, cocking her head slightly.
Andon stepped in so close to her that their foreheads touched, and he placed his hands on either side of her expanded abdomen that was less soft and swollen now, and starting to become more solid and taut. Her hands instinctively moved up to his chest and clutched into his cotton shirt, and her breath caught in her throat as he tenderly caressed the round protrusion through her snug, silk dress.
“Then we will figure it out, vina,” he murmured, his lips only an inch from hers, every one of his smooth, lilting words sending warm air across her face. “I will do whatever it takes to keep you all safe.”
Veria knew they couldn't stay in the library for much longer together without raising questions, or she would have wrapped her arms behind his neck right that moment and given herself to him completely. In her head, Strelzar's comments from two weeks prior echoed in a simultaneous chorus:
What idiot wouldn't fight with everything he's got for you?
I no longer think Andon is an idiot...
“He is not suspicious of anything?” Andon whispered.
“Not that I have noticed. You gave him your report today. How did he seem then?” Veria replied.
“He didn't seem suspicious at all,” Andon said quietly. “Relieved that a nasty thunderstorm and miraculously aimed lightning strike on the highly flammable palma trees next to the encampment did his dirty work for him, and apologetic that he couldn’t have paid the ransom. But other than that...”
Andon smirked conspicuously as he recounted what he had told the King about his escape.
“I don't want you to go, I...I don't know when I'll see you again,” Veria whispered.
“I don't either, vina,” he said, brushing a stray golden tendril from her face. “But we shouldn't press our luck. I know neither of us are particularly good at remaining patient.”
Veria laughed as quietly as she could manage. “No, I suppose we are not.”
“Just take care of yourself,” he said, slowly peeling himself away from her, which sent her heart plummeting into her hot stomach. “Please, Veria.”
His face dropped noticeably as he made his way toward the door.
“Wait,” Veria said, and he turned back toward her slowly, wordlessly. “What is vina?” she asked.
“Sweet vine,” he murmured with an affectionate smirk touching his curved lips. “After we have picked the fruits, the long, spiraling vines lose their green hue and shed their leaves and turn the color of gold. Like your hair. The first time I heard your mother call you 'Via', I thought that was what she said. But after I spent more time around her I realized that she wouldn't be caught dead speaking Esperan,” he added with a laugh, and Veria joined him with a soft, amused snort through her nose.
“Asta prosi noa reuno,” Veria tried her hand at the phrase he had said to her before.
He bit his lip and closed his eyes, seemingly savoring the sound of her speaking in his native tongue. “Asta prosi noa reuno, vina.”
And he left.
Veria could hardly touch her dinner, during which time Browan recounted the miraculous tale of Andon's escape to her excitedly, as if it had happened to him. As if it had happened at all...
-VIII-
Two months went by in a mind-numbing, mundane routine for Veria. Even Browan had been relatively absent and preoccupied for the past two weeks, which had allowed Veria the opportunity to request that Strelzar, or occasionally Virro, accompany her on her walks through the garden, which had grown slower and more cumbersome as she was verging on huge now.
The official selection process for the Commander position had just taken place a week prior, and, as Strelzar and Virro and Veria had all expected, Raken had been named Commander, and Pascha would take over as Second-in-Command as soon as she returned from maternity leave, which would be soon.
Virro squeezed her hand, wrapped it around his frail but supportive arm as they walked through the garden, which at eleven
in the morning was already bordering on sweltering in the early summer sun.
Something does not feel right, he spoke to her with Wind Communication.
Veria cocked her head at him.”What do you mean, Virro?”
He has been cold, colder than usual. To me, and tight-lipped around Strelzar, when he used to let the words fly.
“Yes, he does typically let himself get sucked into Strelzar's banter,” Veria tittered quietly, eliciting a smirk from the generally somber old Wind Mager.
It feels like...he's trying to get rid of us. Now that you are not there.
“That's awful,” Veria gasped.
I can't say I mind it, Virro replied. And I can't say I blame him. We are old...from a different time. And we don't prescribe to the same level of unquestioning loyalty as those a fraction of our age and experience.
“And wisdom,” Veria added, squeezing his arm affectionately.
You're too kind. Be careful, little Laurelgate. You remind me much of my Adierre, although she strongly disliked Strelzar for the entirety of her life. He chuckled out loud and Veria smirked. You have really brought out the best in him. In many of us. That was her best quality. A smile that was seldom, but moving, and made everyone feel like a better version of themselves.
Veria swallowed through a lump of hot coal in her throat as hot tears rimmed her eyes and caught in her dark lashes. She cursed her overabundance of emotions in this stage of her pregnancy as she struggled to speak without crying.
“That's very sweet of you to say,” she managed.
I wish we'd had a child, and at the same time as his unspoken words filled her mind, he sighed audibly next to her. I would have wanted a daughter to look just like her. And I imagine her being a lot like you, though maybe not so powerful.
“Why is that?” Veria asked.
Because it has brought you so much pain.
He turned to look at her with eyes full of sympathy and sadness.
Veria nodded and continued to fight the tears and suppress the forming sobs.
Daloes told me to watch over you as long as I can. He sees a rocky path for you.
“Did he giggle at his earth pun?” Veria laughed through strangled sobs at the mention of her old Master.
Virro nodded. A little bit.
“And what about after that? After the rocky path?” she asked, but she figured she knew the answer.
He didn't say. He never does. He shook his head.
“I know,” Veria sighed, facetiously. “It's infuriating.”
After her emotional walk with Virro, Veria napped on and off for most of the day, which turned rainy just after lunch and continued on to torrential downpour by dinner.
At precisely six, when Browan usually brought her dinner tray, a knock sounded at the door and Veria called for him to come in. But, when he did, he didn't carry a dinner tray. He did seem to hold something in his hand, though.
Veria was immediately on guard, but tried not to let it show.
“Good evening, Browan,” she said with a warm smile. “Have I gotten too fat to have dinner tonight?” she joked.
He did not laugh, and his face was cold and stern as he opened his large hand to reveal a tiny ring nestled in his palm.
“I found this in your dresser drawer,” he said, his voice gravelly and hoarse.
“It's from Ambassador Yoro,” Veria said plainly, snatching the ring from his palm. “He became a good friend during the Peace Council.”
“Why were you hiding it, then?” he asked, narrowing his eyes and cocking his head.
“I wasn't hiding it, Browan,” she rebutted. “I was keeping it safe since it doesn't fit on my swollen fingers currently. Why are you going through my belongings?”
“Because, Veria,” Browan growled, and her heart adopted a racing speed, “some things haven't been adding up lately.”
“I know not of what you speak, Browan,” Veria declared, trying her hardest to sound oblivious and innocent.
“Ah, but I think you do,” he spat. “I think you know exactly of what I speak.”
“Browan, you're sounding insane, and I won't tolerate it,” she said, and stood to leave.
His hand whipped out and grabbed her by her upper arm. She gasped and squirmed against him but he was stronger, and her arm was easily encompassed by his large hand.
“Strange, isn't it, that I checked with every contact I had in Jorriza, and not a one said anything about a thunderstorm in the jungle at the time of Andon's escape? Not really any in the entire month that he was missing.”
Veria tried not to let any body language, however miniscule, betray her, even though her insides were screaming and boiling with fear. “What in the world has that to do with me?” she retorted.
“Good question. And one that I asked your mother when I paid her a visit a few weeks ago as I put this all together. I asked her about your visit, and she said it was pleasant and you rested quite a bit. She was so cordial to me, offering me tea and cakes, and thrilled that I'd visited Longberme in person.
“Then, Raken had a few questions for her,” he continued.
Veria ripped her arm from his grip, with the cost of momentary searing pain hardly phasing her. “What did you do to my mother?!” she shrieked.
“Nothing that will cause permanent damage, I assure you,” Browan said, and Veria felt her insides erupt in raging flame. “And she was never in any real danger. Raken is very skilled.”
“In torture?!” Veria spat.
“I prefer interrogation,” Browan said. “And it allowed your mother to be honest with us. Something I’m positive was an odd sensation for her.”
“Say one more word about my mother—”
“And what, Veria?!” he roared, stepping closer until he towered over her, his deep, bellowing voice booming in her chest. “You would attack the King?! In this very spot where you saved me?”
Veria was silent, but started to feel out the energy in the room—metal and wood aplenty, and another roaring fire in the library next to the bedroom.
“So, if you didn't spend eight days at home, where did you spend them?” Browan continued, circling her like a predator on wounded prey. “One might surmise, a day to Solderess three days on a ship to Barril, a short jaunt to the jungles east of Jorriza, then four days back the way you came. I know Fire isn't your preferred method, but it was convincing. Palma trees are just like giant sticks of tinder, aren’t they?”
“Do you really think I would have been capable of all of that? Like this?” she asked, gesturing to her midsection.
“Veria, there isn't a single thing in the world I don't think you'd be capable of, in any condition,” Browan said. “You are by far the most capable individual I've ever met. Especially when it comes to protecting the people you care about. I consider myself incredibly lucky that I was among that list at the right time to benefit from your guardianship.”
Veria couldn't speak, and her body had started to tremble with fear.
The moment she had feared since Turqa had told her she was with child had arrived.
“It took me awhile after Andon returned and gave his full report for me to put a few things together,” Browan explained. “I usually shuffle diplomatic reports to the bottom of my stacks of parchment because they are exceedingly boring. So when I came upon the complete written report two weeks ago, and noticed that there was a charge for a carriage for Commander Laurelgate to an address in the city of Barril, I was curious. When I traced the deed for the house back to Alona Trea, Andon's deceased mother, I was even more curious.
“And from there,” Browan said, “everything else seemed to fall into place, especially why you waited so long to tell my you were with child. Except for one thing...based on the date of the carriage hire, there was no way that child could be Andon's. Which led me to believe that you had been sleeping with him since the minute you left the shores of Londess. Is that correct?”
Veria pursed her lips and swallowed hard, remaining silent, still tre
mbling while her heart pounded in her stinging chest.
“Just like a Pyer,” Browan clicked his tongue in dramatic disgust. “From one bed to the next like a common whore.”
Veria winced at the word as it pulled forth hot tears from her eyes, and she clenched her jaw to clamp down against the sobs.
“When your precious servant boy didn't return, you thought you'd make a fool of me did you?” Browan spat.
“No...I...” she tried to speak, but her throat was to hardened and tight, and strangled by fear.
“You decided to attain some higher position than the one I graciously assigned you? Commander wasn't good enough? You wanted a crown? You told me as much in the bath that night,” he snarled.
“I said that because I loved you!” Veria shrieked. “Despite how you used me, I still wanted you, and I couldn't have cared less if that came with a crown or not.”
“Then why did you fall right back into bed with Villicrey as soon as you two were in the same place, Veria?!” he roared.
“Because ten minutes after I confessed my feelings to you, Strelzar told me about Cadit Ohren,” Veria snapped.
“And I suppose you felt betrayed?” Browan said icily, cocking his head at her. “Ironic. I had you kill the man that held the key to the investigation of the death of a man who betrayed you repeatedly as a child, as told to you by a man who betrayed your confidence by tampering with our relationship, and you went running right into the arms of a man who betrayed your love for him by abandoning you. But somehow I'm the one who you hate, and have hated this whole time I've taken care of you and given you everything you could ever need. Does that all sound right?”
Suddenly overcome by dizziness, Veria swooned and grabbed the bed post just in time to save herself from falling to her knees.
“Get out,” he ordered. “I want you out of the castle before dawn.”
“The roads, Browan—it's surely flooding out there!” Veria protested feebly.
Daughter of the Diamond: Book IV of the Elementals Series Page 7
