Mark of the Raven

by Morgan L. Busse

  “Lord Damien.” He turned to see Lady Bryren Merek approaching him with her consort at her side. Unlike the other ladies in the room, her gown consisted of soft leather pieces layered over dyed red and flaxen-colored linen.

  Reidin stood beside her, as quiet as ever. His leather and dyed linen attire matched Lady Bryren’s. His black hair stood in spikes around his head, matching the kohl around his eyes.

  Damien would think their relationship was similar to Lady Ragna and Caiaphas’s, what with Lady Bryren’s outgoing, fiery personality and Reidin’s more quiet reserve, except that he often caught the glances they sent each other when they were together, and he had spotted them one evening hand in hand atop one of the towers.

  It appeared the stoic man was a good fit for the wyvern lady.

  Damien bowed his head. “Lady Bryren, Reidin.”

  Reidin’s eyebrow quirked, apparently surprised that Damien had remembered his name.

  Lady Bryren flashed Damien a bright smile. “You look striking this evening. That tunic really brings out the color in your eyes.”

  For one second Damien was taken aback by her blunt comment, then laughed. “Thank you,” he said.

  “I expect almost every house in this room will be seeking you out tonight to inquire about a possible alliance with House Maris.”

  Damien cleared his throat, thankful for the cool breeze flowing through the window behind him. “Yes, I suppose so.”

  “Are you ready for the onslaught of invitations?” Lady Bryren’s eyes twinkled in merriment. Damien caught Reidin looking away, trying to hide the smile dancing across his lips.

  Cohen gave Damien a wide-eyed look. No doubt the monk did not realize one of the more subtle reasons for galas like these was to negotiate marriages between the houses. Even his own father and mother’s engagement was formed during a smaller gala held at Northwind Castle.

  Damien’s own humor returned. “Armed and ready, Lady Bryren,” he said and smiled back. But his insides still squirmed. No doubt she was right. He casually glanced around the room.

  Lady Bryren turned and grabbed two goblets from a tray held by a nearby servant and held one out to him. The red wine sparkled inside.

  Damien accepted it gingerly. “May I speak to you for a moment, Lady Bryren?”

  The smile on her lips dipped. “Certainly. From the look on your face, I assume it is something serious.”

  “Yes, it is.” He moved to an empty corner and Lady Bryren followed after whispering instructions to her consort. “Does anything stand out to you about your father’s death?”

  Lady Bryren’s eyes narrowed and her lips tightened. With any other person, Damien would have crossed a line with his blunt question, but Lady Bryren preferred frankness.

  “Why are you asking?”

  “I was shocked to hear of his passing. And the more I thought about it, the more it seemed . . . convenient.”

  “Are you implying something?”

  “My house has been following the deaths of various lesser lords and ladies over the last five years. At first, none of them seemed to be related. But lately I’ve been wondering if there is something going on. They all passed away in the same way: during the night their hearts gave out.”

  Her face darkened further. “I have not heard of these deaths.”

  “Most have not since we each keep our own counsel within our borders.”

  “So how do you know about them?”

  “As someone who wishes to see all seven houses unite, I have kept track of news within each nation. And there are others who have been helping me.”

  Lady Bryren glanced over the room. “So you’re implying that my father may have been murdered.”

  “I don’t know. But the timing seems convenient.”

  Her nostrils flared. “I did wonder at the death of my father. He was in perfect health. But the healer assured me that even the hardiest men can die unexpectedly. And my father was never the same after my mother died, but certainly not changed enough to pass away so suddenly.” She looked at him. “What are you going to do with this information?”

  “I’m going to continue to search for who is behind these deaths. I think they are trying to weaken the Great Houses, one by one. But this would be the first time a grand lord was targeted.”

  “Weaken? For what purpose?”

  “I don’t know. But it would be convenient for the Dominia Empire if our houses were splintered and fragile.”

  “Like a wounded animal unable to escape a trap,” Lady Bryren murmured.

  “Exactly.”

  “And you didn’t bring this up during the talks because you think one of the Great Houses is behind it?”

  “I’m not sure who else could move across the borders of our countries so easily or know who to hit so precisely.”

  Lady Bryren nodded grimly. Then her face changed and she raised her cup and said in a loud voice, “May you find happiness, Lord Damien.”

  It took Damien a moment to realize Lady Bryren had noticed someone watching and was covering for them.

  Damien raised his own goblet and forced a smile. “And you as well, Lady Bryren.”

  She pointed at Reidin and her smile grew wider. “I already have.” Then she placed her goblet near her lips as if to take a sip. “I’ll think about what you have shared and write later,” she whispered.

  Damien took a small sip and then held the cup between his hands, watching as Lady Bryren grabbed Reidin’s hand with her free one and led her consort away toward a table where a lesser house from Rafel stood in their long green robes.

  Cohen approached him, the monk’s gaze following Lady Bryren. “House Merek is not what I thought it would be. Lady Bryren does not appear as fierce as I had imagined.”

  “Oh, trust me, House Merek can be as fierce as the wyverns they ride if you get on their bad side.” Damien took another sip from the goblet as he remembered the shouting match between Lady Bryren and Lord Ivulf. Pity the person who murdered her father, if that was truly what had happened. Lady Bryren would not stop until she captured the killer and dropped them from the back of her wyvern to the sea below.

  The music across the room changed as he took another sip from the goblet Lady Bryren had offered him. He scanned the room, searching for the other houses. Lady Ragna stood on a low platform at the head of the room, dressed in a long black gown that reminded everyone that even though she was older now, she was still one of the most beautiful women of the seven Great Houses. He spotted Caiaphas beside her, dressed in silver and black, and their second daughter, Lady Amara, at her side.

  Lady Amara’s dress was similar to her mother’s, but a deep garnet color trimmed in gold with a much more daring cut along the front. Her hair hung over one shoulder in a cascade of auburn strands. Along his periphery, Damien could see the second Ravenwood daughter was attracting the attention of many of the male guests. Not surprising. He secretly wondered if House Ravenwood was propping Lady Amara up as a possible alliance. His nose wrinkled at the thought.

  Then he wondered where Lady Selene was. He scanned the platform again but did not spot the oldest daughter and heir to the Ravenwood house. His thoughts drifted back to his conversation with Caiaphas the previous night. Caiaphas had been deadly serious about his daughter and marriage.

  Damien narrowed his eyes and studied Lady Ragna again. There was a darkness to her and to a more subtle degree her daughter as well. “Amara is deep within her mother’s influence,” Caiaphas had said. Damien could see that now as he watched the mother and daughter look over the room together from the platform.

  But Lady Selene was different. Cold, but not necessarily dark. Not like her mother or sister.

  “Lord Damien. I hoped I would have a chance to speak to you tonight.”

  Damien turned to find Lord Leo behind him. The oldest Luceras sibling and heir was a few inches taller than he was. His blond hair was brushed back, revealing his strong, clean facial features and light blue eyes. He wore a matching light
blue tunic with a small cape clasped around his neck.

  Damien gave him a small bow. “Lord Leo. What can I do for you?”

  “I wish to speak about my sister.”

  Damien’s stomach clenched as he straightened from his bow, and his hand tightened around the goblet. Lady Bryren was right. He’d barely been here for five minutes and already the other houses were seeking him out.

  “It is my father’s wish that I talk to you while I am here about a possible alliance between our families; that is, if you do not already have a union in mind.” He watched Damien with keen eyes.

  “No, I have not made an agreement with anyone yet.” Still, he couldn’t help but remember Caiaphas’s urgent request. As of now, he would protect her, but nothing more.

  “I see,” Lord Leo said quietly. “Are you open to the possibility of aligning your house with ours?”

  Damien stared down into the deep red liquid inside his goblet. Normally, it would have been his own father and mother inquiring after the other houses, then presenting him with the possibilities, but still allowing him a choice, one that left room for love.

  Instead, here he was, grand lord of House Maris with the weight of this decision resting solely on his shoulders—a decision that did not just impact him, but his people as well.

  He let out a long breath and looked up. “I’m willing to consider the possibility,” he said.

  “Thank you, Lord Damien. Please spend some time with my sister this evening. I think you will find that she is a beautiful, kind soul.”

  He already knew that but didn’t say anything.

  Lord Leo bowed and departed, making his way toward the other side of the room where Lord Haruk and Lady Ayaka Rafel stood. Both father and daughter were dressed in emerald green gowns trimmed in gold. Lady Ayaka’s long black hair hung down her back, held in place by a large white flower. Damien narrowed his eyes as the Luceras lord spoke with Lady Ayaka. Perhaps Leo was negotiating his own alliance.

  “Fascinating,” Cohen said beside him.

  “What is fascinating?” Damien asked.

  “Life in the abbey is nothing like the life the Great Houses lead.”

  “I would think it is simpler.”

  “It is. I do not envy you, Lord Damien.” Cohen paused. “Ah, there is the priest from House Luceras. I think I shall join him.”

  Cohen headed for a short, stout man dressed in white robes standing near the musicians. He looked out of place, his bald head glistening with sweat.

  Damien shook his own head and smiled. Poor man. Hopefully Cohen could put him at ease.

  A moment later, he spotted Lady Adalyn with her other brother. Lord Elric was shorter and slimmer than Leo but still had the same light-colored hair and eyes. And he was never without a grin on his face. He stood beside Lady Adalyn, that charismatic smirk on his face as the two spoke with members from a lesser house who had traveled with them.

  Damien watched Lady Adalyn. She wore a long white gown with a golden-trimmed bodice. Her golden hair was held back with a jewel-studded comb, accented by the candlelight around her. She had a delicate grace to her form and manners. Her smile was tender and gentle, her eyes kind. Almost everything about her exuded the very virtues of House Luceras: purity, integrity, and light.

  And yet . . .

  He let out a long breath. He wasn’t attracted to her. Yes, she was beautiful, but she did not pull at his very soul. The fact that he felt so disconnected from her concerned him about a possible alliance. Still, he’d promised her brother he would consider the possibility.

  Damien finished the rest of his wine and placed the goblet down on a nearby table, then made his way across the room. The music changed again, a more upbeat tempo, and couples began to gather in the middle of the floor for the first high dance.

  Lord Elric held out his hand to the lady next to him—a blushing, freckled young woman—and led her to the floor to join with the other couples. Damien took his place beside Lady Adalyn.

  “Good evening, Lady Adalyn,” Damien said with a bow.

  “Grand Lord Maris,” she answered softly and bowed back.

  He noted her use of his formal title and wondered why she was using it. “Have you enjoyed your time here?” he asked, starting with small talk.

  Her eyes dimmed. “Rook Castle and the Magyr Mountains are beautiful, but I miss the rolling hills and white coastline around Lux Casta. I also miss my father. His health is stable, but not good. I do not wish to be away from him much longer.”

  “I understand.” He was thankful she answered honestly instead of couching her words in order to hide her homesickness. But it also made him wonder how well she would do moving away from home, something that needed consideration in a potential alliance.

  The long line of couples in the middle of the room began a lively dance, filled with steps and bows.

  Damien watched them for a moment, then glanced at Lady Adalyn. “Do you like to dance?”

  A soft blush touched her cheeks. “Yes, I do. Elric taught me when we were younger.”

  “Then let me do the honor of asking for your hand for the next dance.”

  She smiled and looked up at him from beneath long lashes. “I accept, thank you.”

  Yes, she was definitely beautiful, but he still did not feel that tug. And he was having a hard time coming up with things to talk about. He fought the urge to run a hand along the back of his neck. Instead, he steered their conversation toward her daily pursuits. Her answers were the typical ones of a lady of her stature: classical reading, painting, embroidering, and the running of a household . . . and paladin training.

  Damien’s eyes lit up at that last one. “Tell me more about your training.”

  “I’m not as experienced as my brothers, but my father felt it was important that I know the basics of our gift and the training that comes with it. My use of the light is more for defense. I can summon a shield, but I’m afraid that’s all. My brothers’ abilities are more impressive. Elric wields a polearm he can summon from the light. Tyrn creates a shield that can expand over multiple people. And Leo inherited Father’s broadsword and can manipulate light spheres.”

  “Fascinating,” Damien said, his eyes wide. “I know little of House Luceras’s light abilities.”

  Lady Adalyn blushed and glanced down.

  The first song ended and the couples in the middle of the room either walked toward the perimeter or lined up for the next dance.

  Damien held his hand out to Lady Adalyn. “Shall we?”

  She looked up, her eyes sparkling. “Yes.”

  She was like an angel, and he knew he should be captivated by her beauty and innocence, like half of the men present. But he felt only a camaraderie that came from knowing her family all of his life, and nothing more.

  As the music started and they began to move around the room in a lively step, he wondered if a marriage could be built on that kind of foundation. He watched her from the corner of his eye as she joined the women in a five-step movement that included a small kick and hop. The gentle smile she wore graced her face and her golden hair shone in the candlelight.

  Any man who wedded the beautiful lady of light would be fortunate. So why was he hesitating? He mentally sighed as he danced with the men as Lady Adalyn watched. He wasn’t sure. Perhaps it was because there were more pressing matters like the Dominia Empire and the coalition. Still, that did not stop the fact that eventually he would need to marry and carry on his line. He just wasn’t ready to think about that at the moment.

  He reached for Lady Adalyn’s hand as they joined up again in the middle of the room and gave her a small smile. She at least deserved that much. Their fingers touched, then his eye caught a figure standing along the edge of the crowd.

  Lady Selene Ravenwood.

  The moment he spotted her, something shifted inside of him. He continued to dance with Lady Adalyn, his body moving in the remembered steps, his voice quietly speaking to her. But his mind was fully on Lady Selene. />
  She stood in the farthest corner where the candlelight barely reached. Her gown was as dark as the shadows she stood within, save for her bodice, which was trimmed in what looked like a thousand tiny diamonds, like stars against a night sky. Her hair hung in dark sheets around her face and across her shoulders, reaching almost to her waist. A single silver circlet held her black hair back and a small diamond twinkled at her throat.

  Damien lightly held Lady Adalyn’s hand as they followed the other couples in finishing the dance. From the corner of his eye, he spotted Lord Raoul Friere approach Lady Selene. Her body stiffened as she answered his question. Then they disappeared behind the crowd approaching the dance floor.

  Damien led Lady Adalyn to a window, grabbed a goblet from a nearby tray, and held it out to her.

  “Thank you,” she said. She sipped the dark wine as a cool breeze pulled at her hair. Damien glanced back, hoping to spot Lady Selene again, but she was still hidden behind the crowd.

  Lady Adalyn asked him a question. He turned back and answered, only half of his mind on their conversation. The music started again. Moments later, he spotted Lady Selene with Lord Raoul joining the new set of couples in the middle of the room. If looks could freeze, Lady Selene would have encased Lord Raoul in ice. The young lord did not seem to notice. Instead, he held her hand in a firm grip with a haughty smile on his face. His long black hair was pulled back in a knot at the top of his head, held in place by a golden band. His deep red tunic stood out against Lady Selene’s dark gown like fire against the night sky.

  Lady Adalyn continued to speak, and Damien continued the conversation, his attention split between Lady Adalyn and the dancing couple. The longer he watched, the more he realized the frozen appearance on Lady Selene’s face was a mask. In fact, it had always been a mask. Her movements were stiff, almost forced. So unlike the way she moved with her dual blades. And on closer inspection, it appeared that what he had taken for coldness was actually unease.

  She did not want to be with Lord Raoul.

  One of the young men who had accompanied House Luceras to Rook Castle approached Damien and Lady Adalyn. He bowed to Lady Adalyn and held out his hand. “May I have the next dance, my lady?”