She straightened, pulling her shoulders taut. “I will.”
A smile broke across his face, lessening the deep creases between his brows.
“There it is! That’s the smile I’ve been waiting for,” she teased. “Seriously, though. Thank you for everything. The scabbard, the advice, your lessons—I truly appreciate it.”
Two bells earlier, Baehlon and the others had surprised Taryn with gifts for her birthday. Even the young princesses, which humbled Taryn. She’d been surprised Rhoane remembered it was her birthday, but to have Faelara and Myrddin, as well as Anje and Hayden, celebrate her day, affected her. It made her decision to leave all the more difficult.
“You best take care of that sword. Keep it in the scabbard at all times unless you’re using it.”
“It’s not bespelled, is it?”
He shook his head, creating a tinkling cascade of bells. “Always so suspicious.”
“I think I have reason to be, don’t you?” A low growl came from her abdomen. “Can’t we eat yet? I’m starving.”
Heavenly smells drifted from tables set along the walls, laden with food. Sumptuous delicacies nestled next to spiced meats on one table; on another frothy confections drizzled with honey competed for dominance with puff pastries covered in what Taryn hoped was chocolate.
“Not until the empress arrives.”
“Stupid rule.” Taryn grumbled at the same time trumpets played a fanfare, signaling the arrival of the empress and her daughters.
They made their way to the center of the room and stood beside Faelara. Taryn bounced on the balls of her feet with pent-up anticipation. When the chamberlain called out Rhoane’s name, a small shiver of excitement traveled up her spine. Dressed in a silvery blue tunic with a delicate leaf motif embroidered along the edges, he looked every inch a prince with his silver coronet resting in his curls. The princesses were introduced one by one. Each wore a charming tiara that matched her lavish gown. Taryn snuck several glances at Rhoane, remembering the kiss they shared.
Only when the empress was announced did she fully pull her attention away. Lliandra’s glorious hair cascaded over her shoulders to a dress of pale green chiffon. A large gold crown encrusted with jewels caught the light, sending sparks of color throughout the room. An etherealness surrounded the empress, as if she had stepped down from the enchanted ceiling.
“They are magnificent, are they not?” Faelara whispered to Taryn.
She watched the princesses take to the dance floor with their partners. “They seemed so normal yesterday, but to look at them now with their tiaras and fancy dresses…” She sighed, “I feel like I’m in a fairy tale.”
Duke Anje escorted Lliandra to the dance floor, passing them on their way. The empress nodded to Faelara and Baehlon. Her deep blue eyes took in Taryn with a glance, and then she was gone without a hint of acknowledgment. The rebuff stung for reasons Taryn didn’t quite comprehend.
Throughout the night, her pendant sizzled and snapped at her with no clear reason. Each time Taryn would search the room, she found nothing amiss. She spent most of her time with Sabina, enjoying several desserts while her new friend gave an informal summary of the guests. After Sabina’s fourth dramatic sigh, Taryn faced the exotic beauty and asked what was troubling her.
Sabina sulked, sniffing at the puff pastry on her plate. “All Hayden talks of isTaryn did thisandTaryn said that. According to him, you are the most interesting girl he’s ever met.”
Taryn shrugged. “Then he hasn’t met many girls, I’d think.”
“See? You’re funny, whereas I’m not, and I’m afraid Hayden finds me boring.”
She was a sweet enough girl, but Sabinawas boring. All the princesses were. As far as Taryn could tell, their lives consisted of playing cards, embroidery, and gossip.
“Besides, I have no ShantiMari. The empress would never grant her consent for us to wed.”
“So? I don’t have ShantiMari, either. That shouldn’t define your worth, and if anyone lets it, then they don’t deserve you.”
“That is very nice of you to say, but you are quite mistaken.”
“Come with me.” With Sabina close behind, she made her way to where Hayden was talking to Rhoane.
“You taught me all those dance steps,” she said to Hayden. “It would be a shame to waste that time and effort.”
“Indeed it would.” Hayden held out his arm to escort her to the dance floor.
“Not me.” She pulled Sabina up behind her. “My friend.” He looked surprised but not unhappy.
“Princess, it would be my pleasure to have this dance with you.” Sabina wrapped her arm around his, and they made their way through the crowd.
Taryn turned to Rhoane. “You did promise me a dance, if I recall correctly.”
“That is a very nice thing you are doing.” He gestured to Hayden and Sabina.
“Am I that obvious?”
“Not to Hayden.”
He placed his hand on her lower back and directed her into the dance. Her focus shifted from the warmth of his touch to the dance steps with no small amount of effort. When the song ended, she was delighted he kept his grip on her for another dance. It called for them to switch partners, and Taryn left Rhoane’s embrace grudgingly. On her second pass, Taryn spun into the arms of the one man she never thought she’d see at Paderau.
He wore a mask, but Taryn would know Zakael anywhere. He pulled her to him with a devious grin and a glint to his steel eyes. “You dance remarkably well.”
Taryn’s throat constricted with each beat of her racing heart, cutting off much needed air. “What are you doing here?” she managed to wheeze.
“Dancing. I thought that was obvious.”
Taryn tried to break free, but Zakael held her fast. “Let me go or I’ll scream.”
“And then what?” He moved close so only she could hear. “I didn’t kill Brandt. The Shanti I threw at him was meant to stun, nothing more. His heart was old, but that’s no fault of mine.”
Taryn struggled against the firm grip he had on her wrist.
He pressed against her, his lips at her ear. “Gods, but I admire a girl with strength. Imagine what we could do together, Taryn.” An unholy growl came from his throat. “We would be unstoppable.”
Taryn jerked away but not before Marissa grabbed her by the upper arm, her nails cutting Taryn’s flesh. Rhoane was suddenly beside her. Jaw tight, eyes narrowed, power circling him with controlled restraint.
“Marissa, is there a problem?” His glance went from Taryn to the masked Zakael.
“Of course not, Your Highness. The duke’s guest looked pale and I was concerned for her safety, but her color’s returned so all is well.” She smoothed a hand down Taryn’s arm, caressing the skin with blistered fingertips.
“You seem to have burned yourself, Princess,” Rhoane said, reaching out to inspect Marissa’s wounds.
She snatched her hand back. “It’s nothing but a trifle. Clumsiness on my part. I thank you for your concern.” She turned to Zakael and inclined her head. “Sir, I believe there was a remarkable young woman who wished to dance with you, if you’ll come with me?”
They left before Rhoane or Taryn could say another word. “What the hell is he doing here?”
Rhoane stared after the couple. “Who?”
“Zakael.” Taryn almost spit the word.
“You must be mistaken. He would not dare come here.”
“He told me so himself. Even went so far as to tell me it was Brandt’s weak heart that killed him, not his Shanti.”
A storm raged over Rhoane’s features in an instant and then dissipated. The swiftness of his emotions rocked Taryn nearly as much as seeing Zakael.
Rhoane beckoned Hayden from the dance and ordered him to take Taryn outside and stay with her. Then he disappeared into the crowd.
Hayden hadn’t seen Zakael or the confrontation with Marissa, so quickly was it over. Since Rhoane had given him no reason why he needed to stay with Taryn, he d
idn’t realize there was a threat, and Taryn wasn’t going to be the one to tell him.
He swiped two glasses of wine from a passing servant and chatted about Sabina as he steered Taryn to the balcony. She drank the wine in one long gulp, willing her heart to slow, her breathing to normalize. Whatever she and Hayden discussed, it was lost to the blur of chaotic thoughts running through her mind.
Rhoane returned at some point, thanked Hayden for staying with her, and then Hayden moved off. Her pulse beat in her ears, the rush of adrenaline making everything jumpy and out of focus.
Rhoane’s hand covered hers.Breathe, Taryn.
She inhaled until the warm night air tickled the back of her throat, filled her lungs. A few more deep breaths brought the calm she needed.
She entwined her fingers in his. “Is he gone?”
Rhoane leaned against the balcony, looking up to the night sky. “It would appear so.”
Taryn followed his gaze and blinked at the two moons she saw. “Were those always there and I missed them?”
“They are only visible at midsummer and midwintertide. The rest of the time you can only see one moon.”
“I wonder where the other one goes.”
Sabina rushed up to them, panting and bouncing on her toes. “Hayden has promised to teach me to ride. I’ve never been on a horse, and I’m terrified.” She squealed and rushed back to the dance floor.
“The princesses are very taken with you.”
“I’m honored to call them my friends,” Taryn said simply. Zakael’s appearance had drained her, but she wouldn’t let him ruin her night. “Can we stay here for a few more minutes and then dance again?”
Rhoane squeezed her fingertips. “Of course.”
Taryn danced with Rhoane and the younger princesses until the two moons were low in the eastern sky. When her eyes could barely stay open, Hayden offered to escort her to her rooms. They stumbled through the halls, having drunk a little too much wine. At her door, Hayden bowed low, his palm pressed against his chest.
“Good night, fair maiden. May your dreams be sweet and the morning light late. Or something. Retreat?” He shook his head and laughed at his dreadful attempt at poetry.
Taryn giggled and pushed him down the hallway. “Thank you for a perfect birthday, my friend.”
Hayden saluted her and swaggered off, disappearing in the darkness.
She fumbled with the doorknob and then tumbled into her room, sobering the instant she saw the spectral form of her grandfather.
He drifted close, greeting her astonished stare with an airy hug and kiss.
“How is this possible?” She touched his cheek, feeling warmth beneath her fingertips.
“My spirit dwells on Dal Tara. It is because of your love for me that I am able to manifest myself to this degree.”
“But, you’re… I saw Nadra take you away.”
“Did you think I would forget what today is?” He indicated the table where a wrapped box waited.
Taryn gently opened it, saving the paper. Inside, nestled on a bed of blue satin, was a small stone. “It’s lovely.” She held it up, squinting in the candlelight. Tiny flecks of silver sparkled within the cream-colored rock.
“It’s a moonstone. It will provide you with comfort when the darkness becomes too much to bear.”
A small cry escaped her. “Thank you, Baba. I will keep it with me, always.”
“I’m pleased you’ve made friends.” He touched the book of fairy tales Eliahnna had given her, then the dagger from Tessa. He picked up Myrddin’s gift—a large clear marble that he’d called a looking glass.
Brandt rolled the ball between his fingers with a somber chuckle. “One of Myrddin’s favorite inventions, this. I’m sure he told you how to call forth an image of those you love, but did he also tell you that it is useful to see what has been?”
Taryn shook her head. She didn’t fully understand how the marble worked. Brandt demonstrated by asking the ball to show Taryn the entrance of Lliandra and the princesses to the masque. Taryn watched, enthralled, as they entered the Great Hall. The procession was as exciting as the first time she saw it.
“That’s remarkable.”
“Yes, it is, really.” Brandt replaced the clear orb in its box. “But don’t let on how impressed you are. Myrddin’s ego is big enough already.” Warmth suffused his words.
“You and Myrddin were close?”
“Like brothers.” A wistful smile lit up his face. “We used to terrorize the empress, driving her to distraction. Not Lliandra, mind you, but her mother. We practically raised Lliandra and Gwyneira.”
When Brandt started to fade, Taryn reached toward him. “Please, stay a little longer.”
“My time here draws to a close. I love you, darling girl.”
“I love you, Baba.” But he was already gone.
She stayed rooted where she was, in the hope he would reappear. When it became clear he wouldn’t return, she shuffled through the empty rooms. Apparently, the best way to avoid having maids fuss over you was to stay out late enough. As she made her way to the dressing room, a glimmer of ShantiMari caught her attention.
The wards on the cupboard were tattered wisps. Taryn carefully opened the door to make certain the sword and seal remained untouched. Relief flooded through her at the sight of them. In the morning, she’d have Faelara strengthen the wards. After taking care to close the compartment, Taryn retrieved the looking glass.
“Show me who entered my rooms,” she commanded the ball.
A slight figure dressed in a dark cloak lit up the clear marble. Taryn couldn’t tell who it was, but the person roamed her suite with authority. At the secured compartment, the figure flinched from a flare of Faelara’s ShantiMari. A minute later, the intruder left Taryn’s rooms.
It was then she remembered Marissa’s scorched fingertips.
Chapter 17
CANDLES in glass vases hung from branches, giving the gardens a misty glow. Ladies and lords strolled the gravel paths, talking in hushed tones as if not to disturb the ambiance of the night. Valterys kept himself cloaked in shadow, mingling through the crowds, careful not to disturb anyone. Marissa’s suggestion that they attend the masque was originally met with disdain, but the temptation to be near Lliandra, to possibly learn something of her plans, swayed his opinion. If what Marissa said was true, the Eirielle would be there tonight, which only made the evening more enticing. Valterys pulled the darkness tight around him while making his way closer to the empress.
Lliandra sat in an elaborate chair—the best they could find to resemble a throne, most likely—looking stunningly regal and beautiful. Even after many seasons, she still excited him in ways no other woman could. When she bent to speak with a courtier, Valterys saw the tiny pulse flutter beneath the creamy skin of her throat. He edged closer still. Close enough that he could reach out to place his hands around her delicate neck and squeeze the life from her if he so desired.
For the briefest of moments, he allowed himself to imagine her face as she took her last breaths. A delicious warmth spread from his groin, and his fingers flexed in anticipation. Myrddin stepped beside Lliandra to whisper fervently in her ear, altogether destroying Valterys’s fantasy.
A commotion on the dance floor drew his attention and he looked up in time to see Zakael storming off with Marissa. In their wake, a striking girl, tall with golden curls and piercing blue eyes, was led away by the duke’s son. A memory seized him of a time long past when Lliandra was carefree, before her crown became a weapon, when she would smile and dance through the night. The girl he saw on the balcony with young Lord Valen could have been her twin. He had no doubt she was Lliandra’s missing child.
His daughter.
If memory served, tonight was her birthing day, and yet Lliandra did nothing to acknowledge the girl. Not even a glance or discreet wave. Whatever the woman was planning, he needed to find out.
Prince Rhoane approached Lliandra, and, to her hearing alone, told her of Marissa�
��s guest. Despite the mask, Zakael had been identified. The empress remained calm, but her pulse quickened ever so slightly. Myrddin was sent to find the errant princess, and then, as if nothing had happened, Lliandra rose from her chair, and held out her hand for Rhoane to take. They joined others on the dance floor, blending seamlessly into the crowd.
Valterys hurried from the ballroom and found Zakael with Marissa in the farthest corner of the garden. They argued in tense, whispered tones.
“Rhoane saw the blisters. I doubt he’ll believe my excuse of clumsiness,” Marissa hissed.
“He doesn’t know you tried to undo the wards. Act as if nothing is wrong. You’re too emotional. You must learn to control yourself.”
“Me? It was you who demanded we get near enough that you could see the girl. If not for you, we wouldn’t have been discovered.”
Valterys let the shadows fall away, and Marissa jumped at his sudden appearance. “What are you doing here?”
“Your mother has sent her watchdog after you. Perhaps you shouldn’t be seen with my son.”
Marissa’s lovely lavender eyes flashed raw anger for a moment before she inclined her head. “Thank you, my lord.” She turned to Zakael. “We will speak more of this on the morrow.” She stormed away, the gravel path crunching beneath her delicate slippers.
“Did you accomplish what you came for?” he asked Zakael.
“I would not have thought it, but by her own admission it is the same girl as in the cavern. Blood’s oath, what a difference a gown makes.”
“Stay away from her. Get to the inn, and do not be seen. I must go see to something before we reach Talaith.”
Zakael quickly transformed into a levon, rising into the air, beating his slender wings hard to catch an updraft. He flew away from the palace toward the city.
At least the boy had the good sense to listen to his father. For once. Valterys saw the desire in Zakael’s eyes when he spoke of Taryn. The fact she was his half-sister meant nothing to him. If anything, it made her all the more enticing. Their offspring would be more powerful than any mage or sorcerer in all of Aelinae.
The Stones of Kaldaar (Song of the Swords Book 1) Page 15
