Midnight Soul (Fantasyland #5)

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Midnight Soul (Fantasyland #5) Page 4

by Kristen Ashley

Nor Fleuridia or the city-state of Bellebryn. And certainly not any of the savage nations of the Southlands—Korwahk, Keenhak and Maroo.

  Women did not rule.

  And yet, when Aurora’s Atticus, Lunwyn’s king, had been murdered during hostilities some time past, the most powerful man in our country, (that man, incidentally, was my cousin, Frey), installed his mother-in-law on the throne.

  He did not do this as an act of nepotism.

  He did this because Atticus was the king he was (a good one) mostly (to my way of thinking) due to the woman at his side.

  Queen Aurora was savvy, watchful, deliberate and guarded as well as outwardly attractive and stately of demeanor.

  All excellent qualities in a ruler.

  It was not a surprise since her coronation that much news had come to me. News that shared she was excelling in her new role.

  Our first queen.

  Long may she reign.

  Of course I thought this, but would never say it out loud.

  No, when I followed the guard through the door, my smile died, and with ease born of decades of practice in order to face whatever was next, as I always did, I slipped one of my many masks into place.

  This one: Loyal Subject.

  As the guard stepped out of the way, in front of me I saw Queen Aurora’s large desk. She sat behind it. Sitting atop and situated at the outer edge of the desk, closest to me, I distractedly noted that there were three chests, one rather small, one somewhat sizeable, one in between.

  But this did not take but scant attention.

  As ever, I needed to identify the players and act accordingly.

  Therefore I saw surrounding Aurora on both sides were my cousin, Frey, and his wife, Princess Sjofn, or as Frey and all who knew her (that she felt affection for) called her, Finnie.

  Close to Frey stood Apollo Ulfr, the queen’s general and chief strategist.

  At his side was Ilsa, though they called her Madeleine, the other-world woman who’d taken the place of Apollo’s dead wife. Indeed, this Madeleine was going to do that two days hence in an official manner, becoming his actual wife.

  I’d met his previous Ilsa prior to her expiring.

  The women were the spitting image of each other.

  I did not understand this, Apollo carrying on with this new Ilsa. It seemed sordid to me. Disrespectful of Ilsa’s memory.

  Even knowing there was another Antoine in the other world, I would never seek to go there to find him or bring the other him here to be with me.

  There was no replacing him.

  There was only one true Antoine.

  However, it appeared Apollo held genuine affection for her.

  He was a man of emotion. He’d grieved his wife openly and he’d done that for years.

  But he was not a man ruled by emotion. He would never take to wife a woman who had not found her way into his heart.

  This mattered naught to me.

  One thing I had managed to decide that day during my bath, with my head refreshed and my thoughts clear, was that the concerns of others were no longer any concern of mine.

  My life from that day forward would be quiet.

  No more machinations.

  No more intrigue.

  This decision was Antoine’s fault too. I knew it.

  However, despite it not being my character, I couldn’t stop myself from looking to a future such as that, perhaps not with relish as that future held no Antoine, but with a sense of serenity.

  I thought this as I turned my head to take in the rest of the room.

  On the other side of Finnie stood the mighty (and large) Dax of Korwahk, their king, Lahn, his Circe, and close to them stood Prince Noctorno and Princess Cora.

  Taking him in, I found I wished I had the time to study Prince Noctorno more closely. But even with the brief glance I gave him, I noted the resemblance to the man who called himself Noc was uncanny.

  Prince Noctorno of Hawkvale had a scar on his face that didn’t mar but instead enhanced his features, which Noc did not have.

  But that was the only difference.

  As I came to a halt at the front of the desk, I sensed more and looked over my shoulder.

  When I did, I felt an odd pang hit my belly.

  Circe was sitting in an armchair (and it was more than disconcerting, though I’d never allow it to show, the present Ilsa looking like a dead Ilsa, two of the same Circes and two of the same Noctornos in that room).

  Noc was standing beside her, leaning into her chair in a way that made me question my read of the situation the evening before.

  It seemed with the way he appeared now that what they’d had was not a tryst.

  His position, the closeness of it, would suggest something else.

  That odd pang came again, stronger, when I saw he was regarding me, a look of familiarity on his face, warmth in his eyes.

  He was the only one in the room who was showing even a modicum of cordiality. The rest were regarding me with unconcealed impatience (even if I had just that moment arrived) and even (in the case of Frey and Apollo), dislike.

  It wasn’t cordiality Noc was displaying, however.

  It was friendliness.

  It took me off guard, mostly because, outside my friend Valeria, the only true friend I had in the Drakkar House (or anywhere), no one looked on me with friendliness.

  “It’s good you were able to rise from your bed. Or Sjofn’s bed, as the Winter Palace is the home of Lunwyn’s Ice Princess.”

  Queen Aurora’s cool greeting turned my attention back to her.

  I didn’t trouble myself with a reply.

  It was not lost on me that my behavior (in more than being forced to turn traitor against my country, indeed an adulthood (and then some) of behaving precisely like a Drakkar) had earned me this kind of enmity.

  Any other person, even our queen (who rarely showed any emotion) would be aware of all they’d lost, all they’d suffered, all they’d known Antoine had suffered, and thus she would deduce sleep would not have been easy.

  Indeed, by the gods, day in, day out, simply finding the strength to throw my legs over the side of the bed and face another day plagued with the pain was an extraordinary endeavor.

  But I had not earned that regard.

  I had earned the frosty look in her eyes that accompanied the chill in her voice.

  And as ever, I withstood it, but this time, I had no venomous rejoinder.

  I just stood there silently.

  “In order to save you the energy of making your play, Franka,” she continued. “And as we’ve all got much more important things to move on to, we’ve discussed recompense for your activities of yesterday and we’re seeing about doling that out without delay.”

  I stood silent, but inside I went still.

  How much I had changed.

  Even playing my small part in saving the world, it hadn’t occurred to me to use that happenstance to better my circumstances. Prior to Antoine, this very thought would be the first thing on my lips before I’d actually go to Spectre Isle to face the three most evil, most powerful witches in our entire hemisphere.

  I’m not slipping, Antoine, my love, I thought in horror. I’ve lost it completely!

  Queen Aurora swept out a hand slightly to her right, indicating the small chest on her desk.

  “Lunwyn’s Sjofn ice diamonds,” she declared, and I felt my knees lock.

  Even that size chest, filled with Lunwyn’s highly sought after ice diamonds, was not a small fortune.

  It was a magnificent one.

  “This from Lunwyn, as thanks,” Aurora uttered her last word as if it was difficult for her to say. She then gestured to the largest chest that lay in the middle of the three. “Korwahk emeralds, rubies and sapphires.”

  By the gods!

  It took grave effort not to allow my eyes to widen.

  “From the Dax,” she turned her head toward King Lahn and Queen Circe and tipped it their way, “his Dahksahna and the people of Korwah
k, in gratitude.” She looked back to me and indicated the last chest. “Gold coin, in appreciation of your efforts from King Ludlum of Hawkvale, his son, Prince Noctorno, ruler of Bellebryn, and, of course,” a small amount of warm infused her features as she looked to Princess Cora, “his princess.”

  I turned my gaze their way and saw distaste in Prince Noctorno’s eyes, eyes that were on me.

  Princess Cora, however, was studying me as if I was a curiosity.

  “And last, from the House of Ulfr,” Queen Aurora went on, and I looked back to her to see she had her arm straight out. I turned my attention to where she was indicating, directing it at one of the chairs that sat in front of her desk, a chair that was piled high with luxurious pelts, “sable, chinchilla and mink, the finest, of course, as they’re Ulfr.”

  My eyes moved from the dizzying spectacle of that beauty back to my country’s queen as she kept speaking.

  “As I know you, Franka, I can safely assume, for your part in the difficulties that played out yesterday, this will be enough. I do hope you consider this a debt fully paid.”

  The coin from Hawkvale alone, I could tell from the size of the chest, was more than enough.

  This more than enough being the fact that I could live on that quite well (in other words, get Josette a much-needed assistant for the care of my person and belongings). I could also get far better appointed apartments in Fleuridia (or wherever I chose to go). Further, I could have not only a butler, a cook and two lady’s maids (all that I already had in Fleuridia, save the second lady’s maid) with help coming in every two weeks to clean and tidy, I could hire an actual house maid on staff who’d clean and tidy every day.

  By Adele, I could hire fifty if I wished!

  With the riches that lay before me (and on the seat beside me), I could live in extreme luxury until I took my last breath.

  More, I could share them with Kristian. He could then be safe from the House of Drakkar, independent, his own man. He could make his wife safe, his son. He, through me, could make them all safe from the secrets that had plagued us since we were children.

  Indeed, if he had a mind to, he could take them away. He could even go live in a realm across the Green Sea where nothing could touch them.

  Nothing.

  No one.

  Not even magic (maybe).

  This, I would share with him. He listened to me. I’d heard things about those realms. There was great beauty in the countries of Airen, Firenze, Wodell.

  Perhaps I’d go with my brother and his family.

  And yet, as these thoughts raced through my mind—along with feeling the sensation of relief, the knowledge that I no longer had to connive and manipulate to obtain the lifestyle to which I was accustomed, the understanding I could make my brother and his family safe with a finality that would mean decades of worry would disappear—I tasted a sourness in my mouth.

  I do hope you consider this a debt fully paid.

  Were they showering Noctorno and Circe with riches for the parts they’d played?

  Or was it simply me they wished to pay off for they thought (due to my own actions over the years, it must be said) it would be expected.

  “And I do hope this extraordinary show of generosity,” Queen Aurora carried on, “will mean that you feel yourself well taken care of and we will find there is some time, a great deal of it, before we’re again in your company.”

  They might be showering Noctorno and Circe with riches.

  But they were showering me with them to be rid of me.

  For good.

  The queen studied me, and I endured her scrutiny even as I tried to understand what I was sensing in the room.

  I knew I had everyone’s attention. However, it seemed far keener than this insignificant chore would need. The magnitude of the offering was astounding. But the chore of being done with me surely was felt by all (save Noc) as insignificant.

  And yet I sensed they were all watching me closely.

  I didn’t like the feeling. It seemed dangerous.

  And in a room filled with people who either disliked me greatly or didn’t think much of me, that danger was considerable.

  I knew that kind of danger.

  And I knew the play that had to be made when I found myself in it.

  I needed to retreat immediately.

  “My gratitude, your grace,” I said quietly. “May I beg the favor of a servant to carry these generous gifts to my rooms?”

  “I appreciate you voiced this request, as you haven’t seemed to concern yourself with ordering about servants who’ve been scuttling around the Palace now for weeks preparing for the Bitter Gales, not to mention after the rather dire and miraculous events that occurred yesterday, in order for them to cater to your whims,” Queen Aurora returned.

  I fought my back snapping straight.

  That was not cold.

  It was spiteful.

  Any guest in this palace would not hesitate to do the same.

  And I’d ordered wine, bread, cheese and a fire. Noc had ordered the blasted whiskey.

  Oh, and I’d asked for a sleeping draught and a bath to be brought up that morning.

  But that was all.

  I hadn’t even requested breakfast.

  “But, yes,” Aurora went on to answer my request. “We’ll see they’re safely delivered to your rooms immediately. Now, can I further offer the services of the palace staff to assist you in packing and being certain the horses are put to your sleigh so that it’s waiting for you early on the morrow?”

  In other words, get out.

  I didn’t fight back lifting my chin a smidge. “Yes. You may. And I would be grateful.”

  “Excellent,” she murmured, casting her eyes to her daughter (who was not her daughter), somehow communicating at the same time she was casting me out of her mind.

  I was to leave.

  Immediately.

  I did not bow or drop into even a slight curtsy, although this was a considerable breach of protocol.

  I’d been dismissed.

  Therefore I turned to leave.

  “As I said.” I heard Frey mutter.

  Apollo’s words came right after. “Yes, Franka Drakkar would never do something for naught.”

  I heard this but it was what I was feeling coming from Noc that made my gaze shift to him.

  And the pang came back, ten times the strength, searing a swath of pain through my middle as I saw disappointment and even mild aversion in his eyes as he watched me move through the room.

  Looking at him, I knew. I knew he’d told them of our time together last night. He’d likely shared he thought more of me than they ever would.

  Undoubtedly, this was met with incredulity.

  Or, perchance, hilarity.

  But I knew he’d also told them I would not accept remuneration for the part I’d played in saving my universe.

  Or, perhaps, not that extraordinary amount.

  And I knew just looking at him, looking at the carefully blank expression on Circe’s face, which I caught when I cast a swift downward glance in her direction, that they may have been offered their rewards.

  But they’d declined, or at the very least eschewed such extravagance.

  They’d done what they’d done out of care and concern. They’d put their lives at risk because it was the right thing to do.

  They’d done it because they were good, kind people right down to their bones.

  Unlike me.

  I’d been born with the black soul of a Drakkar and no matter how hard Antoine had worked to cleanse it, it would forever remain midnight.

  “As you said, Noctorno,” I spoke haughtily, looking right in his eyes as I kept moving toward the door, “there are no such things as heroes.”

  Except, I thought but did not say, you.

  And with that, I pulled my gaze from his, kept my head lifted and swept out of the room.

  * * * * *

  Valentine

  “She is not a good perso
n,” Lavinia declared.

  “Mm…” Valentine murmured, her attention aimed at the large sphere sitting on its emerald-green velvet pillow on the table between Valentine and her fellow witch.

  “I can understand your fascination with her, my friend, she’s quite fascinating. As a snake lying coiled in the sun would be fascinating. But get too close, the snake strikes.”

  Valentine lifted her hand to her crystal ball, twisted her wrist and skimmed the blood-red tips of her fingers across the cool glass.

  The image in it of Franka Drakkar walking with head held high from the queen’s study drifted away in a mist of green smoke.

  She looked up to Lavinia.

  “There’s more to that one,” she stated.

  “I’m uncertain you wish to discover it,” Lavinia returned.

  Valentine wasn’t uncertain.

  “Perhaps you forget,” Valentine returned, “the rose grows amongst thorns.”

  “This is true,” Lavinia retorted, “and I have not had any direct dealings with the woman, but I’ve heard much. So much, it indicates not only is Franka Drakkar a thorn, her particular thorn is dipped in poison.”

  Valentine studied her friend and wondered if she didn’t sense it.

  Lavinia was nowhere near as powerful as Valentine was.

  However, she held great power. She should be able to sense it.

  Where she sat across from Lavinia in the warm comfort of her rooms in the palace, she asked, “Do you not sense it?”

  “I sense it,” Lavinia replied.

  As Valentine thought.

  “Unusual in your world, no?” Valentine asked.

  “Unusual and unlawful,” Lavinia replied shortly.

  Yes, from what Valentine had learned, it was.

  Intriguing.

  Valentine’s gaze drifted back to her crystal as she purred, “Hmm…”

  “The only reason I like that look on your face, Valentine, is because I sense your interest in Franka Drakkar will mean you will not leave our world as you’d planned after Apollo and Maddie’s wedding. I enjoy your company. Over the last months, I prayed to the gods our troubles would end without too much destruction and heartache. But with the fondness I hold for you, I still faced the end of those troubles with a heavy heart for I knew it would take you away, for there would no longer be any reason for you to come back. Therefore, even if the reason you’d stay, or return, is Franka Drakkar, I’ll take it.”

 

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