Selene blinked dumbly. What just happened? Her body tingled and her mind refused to work. A voice inside her head, soft at first, then shouted louder at her to move. Move, Selene!
“I will. Feel better, that is.” Even her mouth refused to work properly. Better to leave before she said something foolish. She turned and headed back into the room. A blast of heat, the loud music, and overwhelming smells assaulted her the moment she stepped inside, compounding her disorientation.
Selene spotted the main doors to her left, halfway across the room. Without another thought, she headed toward them, making her way through the crowd. She didn’t care if leaving angered her mother, or if the houses talked about her sudden departure. She was done with the gala. She was done with people. What she needed right now was a quiet place where she could lock away her heart again.
31
Once inside her bedchambers, Selene pulled the silver circlet from the top of her head and let it drop on the nearby table, then stripped off her gown and tossed it over the changing screen. After blowing out the candle, she crossed the room and fell across her bed. Pulling her knees up to her chest, she stared at the wall, waiting for the usual numbness to steal over her body.
But it would not come. And her mind would not stop replaying the night over and over again. She turned and curled tighter into a ball. Night moved slowly across the sky outside the window. The gala was still going; she could tell by the barest hint of music wafting through the castle.
After more tossing and turning, she finally rose from her bed. It was no good. All she could think about was Lord Damien. At this rate, she would fail in her mission tomorrow. She needed to do something about it, find a way to purge all thoughts of him from her mind. And there was one place where she could do that.
She moved across her room toward the changing screens and pulled on a dark dress. Then she grabbed her black cloak, clasped it around her neck, and pulled the hood over her head. It wasn’t unheard of for disciples to visit the sanctuary at night, but she still wished to remain anonymous as much as possible.
A handful of people were still awake, making their way through the castle corridors on unstable legs. Selene bypassed them without a word, gliding like a spirit in the night along the walls where the shadows were darkest. No one seemed to notice her, and that’s how she wanted it.
After weaving her way through the castle, she reached the corridor that led to the Dark Lady’s sanctuary. The air felt chillier here, and the shadows darker. Selene stopped and hugged her arms around her body. Should she be doing this? She hadn’t visited the Dark Lady since the morning when the priest spoke over her and marked her with an invisible sign.
Would the Dark Lady be angered that she never came back?
Selene clutched the front of her cloak. But I don’t know where else to turn.
That thought propelled her forward. She needed strength right now. Willpower. Determination. Anything that would help her take these last few steps in accomplishing her mission. Because she was wavering, and she was afraid she would turn back.
She entered the sanctuary. The air was still and quiet, almost eerily so, and smelled of dust and stone. The chandeliers above were devoid of candlelight, and the platform at the front of the room was empty. She carefully made her way to the front, her gaze darting back and forth between the pillars, searching for any living thing. Nothing. Not even the priest, although given how late it was, she wasn’t surprised but she was relieved.
She stopped slightly to the left of the platform and stood there. The silence grew heavy the longer she stayed, like a thick wool blanket across the sanctuary. Most of the room was hidden in darkness, with only a trickle of light from the night sky.
Selene gripped the front of her cloak, her throat tight.
I can’t do this.
She sank to her knees and curled forward, extending her right hand until her fingertips touched the edge of the platform, her head bowed. “I can’t do this,” she whispered. “I don’t have the strength to carry through.” She thought again of Lord Damien, of his dark blue eyes and the way he gently led her on the dance floor. His kind words and inner strength. So young—as young as she was—and yet a leader amongst the Great Houses.
The light of his soul.
Her fingers gripped the platform while she curled her other hand and held it to her chest. Why did she have to kill someone so beautiful? To save her house? A house filled with hatred and corruption? To save herself? Was she worth saving? Her soul was as dark as his was light, and it was darkening even more each day.
And yet . . . her people were counting on her. Each mission provided the means to take care of them. A place to live in peace. A place to work. Food to eat. Without House Ravenwood, the mountain nation would have no leader and be vulnerable to bandits and outlaws, much how it was during the razing. Her family brought stability and income to their people.
A sob broke inside her chest, forcing its way to her lips. Hot tears flooded her cheeks. “Please, Dark Lady, help me! I can’t do this on my own.”
Selene withdrew her hand from the platform and rocked back and forth on her knees, crying out. But only silence met her prayers. Silence and darkness. Her soul fell deeper into despair.
“Where are you?” Selene whispered as she raised her head and looked at the retable filled with unlit candles. Her voice echoed across the sanctuary. “You said you would be with me that night when my gifting came. But you were never there. And now, when I need your strength to fulfill my mission, you’re absent. Are you even real?”
Her eyes went wide and Selene sucked in a breath, horrified by her sudden display of irreverence. She glanced around, expecting to see a woman cloaked in darkness appear and chastise her—or worse. But nothing moved in the dark sanctuary. Not even the air.
Selene dropped her head. A hollow feeling expanded inside of her chest, spreading across her body until she felt like an empty shell. Her face was flushed and swollen from her tears. She wiped her cheeks and let out a forced laugh. Even if the Dark Lady did exist, it appeared Selene was not worth her time.
She stood up on shaky legs. The next day would be dawning soon, and with it her mission. She swallowed and turned. With each step, with each breath, she slowly began to lock away her feelings, trapping them deep inside of her heart behind doors of iron. She would fulfill her mission—not for her house, but for her people. If killing Lord Damien helped her people, then she would do it.
Even if doing so destroyed her in the end.
32
Damien stared at the ceiling, unable to close his eyes. Cohen snored in the room nearby and somewhere beyond the first door he knew Sten was on guard duty while Taegis and Karl slept. Damien’s body was exhausted, and his mind was full from that evening. He knew he needed to sleep because tomorrow would require all of his strength, but he could not get Lady Selene out of his mind. The moment she smiled, it was like the sun had broken through the storm clouds and spread warm light across the land. It changed her. It removed the cold, hard mask from her face, revealing the living, breathing woman inside.
That one moment changed something inside of him. Did it alter his response to Caiaphas? No. It would take a lot for him to decide to align himself with House Ravenwood. He would need to know more about Lady Selene. Why did she hide behind a persona of coldness? Who was she really? And what made her run from the room?
That puzzled him most of all. She went from smiling to pallid—almost sickly—in moments. As if she had realized she had let her guard down and it frightened her.
Damien ran a hand through his hair and sighed. Taegis would tell him not to entangle himself with the Ravenwood family. And he would be right. There were so many things going on—his investigations into the murders, the coalition, trying to unite the houses, the Dominia Empire—that he didn’t have time to spend on one woman. It would be better not to get involved. After all, House Ravenwood no longer possessed their gift and were the smallest of the nations. There was no adva
ntage in aligning their houses together—
Damien sat up. What am I thinking? Since when did it matter what another house had to offer? Where was the advice he had given Lady Selene earlier tonight about a true leader leading by sacrifice and love?
He fell back down across the mattress. Perhaps the houses around him were subtly influencing him. Their own safety and security were all they cared about. He needed to be better. Just because Lady Selene did not possess her house gift didn’t mean she was less than him.
He took a deep breath and closed his eyes. The Light could use anyone. Weakness could turn into strength. And he had a feeling there was a hidden strength within Lady Selene waiting to be unlocked.
Damien splashed the tepid water from the bowl across his face and wiped the moisture off with the nearby towel. He tossed the towel on the table and stared into the opaque water within the bowl, his hands spread out on either side. Bright morning sunshine streamed through the nearby window with a cheerfulness that countered how he felt.
His dreams last night had been dark and foreboding, a reflection on how he felt about the treaty agreement today. Something was going to happen, a catalyst of sorts that would set in motion the future of the seven Great Houses. The question was, would it bring them together or would it divide them, inviting Commander Orion and the Dominia Empire to take over their lands?
After dressing, he headed for the meeting hall with Karl on duty that day as his bodyguard. By now Rook Castle had become a familiar place, and he made his way with ease to the double doors that led inside the spacious circular room. Most of the houses were already present and seated around the enormous wooden table in the middle of the hall. The only houses not yet present were House Ravenwood and House Friere.
Damien took a seat beside Lord Leo Luceras. There were dark circles beneath the young lord’s eyes. It appeared his sleep had also been compromised, but whether by dreams or something else, Damien didn’t know.
Lord Haruk Rafel sat across the table, his long silver hair pulled back, his wizened face looking even more aged as he gazed at the tabletop, almost as if he were avoiding looking at anyone else. Damien’s stomach churned. If Lord Haruk’s look was any indication, it would seem that he would not be voting in favor of the treaty. Damien hoped his suspicions were wrong.
Lord Rune Vivek and his sister Runa talked quietly across from him. He wondered how they were feeling this morning, since their land and people were most at risk from an attack by the Dominia Empire.
Next to them sat Lady Bryren. She leaned back in her chair with her arms crossed and a faraway look on her fiercely painted face. Damien wondered what she was thinking about at that moment.
The double doors opened a second later, and Lady Ragna marched into the meeting hall with Lord Ivulf at her side. She wore a long dark dress cut to accentuate her body, her equally dark hair flowing down to her waist. Lord Ivulf appeared almost wolfish beside her, his myriad golden jewelry twinkling from his neck, earlobes, and fingers.
As Damien watched Lady Ragna cross the room and take a seat to the right of the table, he couldn’t help but compare her with Lady Selene. There was a regal haughtiness to Lady Ragna as she surveyed the table like a queen on her throne. Her cold dark eyes roved across the room in a calculating manner, causing a shiver to go down his spine.
Lady Selene was nothing like that. Yes, she was cold, almost chilly in her appearance, but nothing like the darkness exuding from Lady Ragna. He would not say Lady Selene was gentle, like Lady Adalyn Luceras, nor quiet like Lady Ayaka. Lady Selene possessed something like a hidden strength, a flower that only blooms at twilight, between the night and the day.
Lord Ivulf sat down beside Lady Ragna. The room grew quiet as faces turned toward Lady Ragna in expectation.
“Thank you once again for answering the summons for the Assembly of the Great Houses. As you know, we have come together during this time to discuss the alleged encroachment of the Dominia Empire.”
Alleged encroachment? Damien bristled at Lady Ragna’s choice of wording. He noticed Lord Rune’s face darken as well.
“Even though it was such words that brought us here, it was still good for us to come together. It has been almost four hundred years since all seven Great Houses have met, and during this time, many alliances have formed and friendships made. But we are not here today to converse on the benefits of this assembly. Instead, we are here to talk about a unified treaty between the seven Great Houses, a treaty against the Dominia Empire.”
She looked around the room. “I will not waste your time. We have spoken much over the last few days and each of us has come to a decision about what is best for our people and best for our house.”
Damien clenched his hand beneath the table. She was wrong. If each house only thought of what was best for themselves, then there would never be any unity. But he had already spoken on the subject and to bring it up now would only open up the room to more debate. So he held his tongue.
“With that said,” Lady Ragna continued, “House Ravenwood chooses not to sign the treaty.”
The already silent room became even more deathly so. Heat flashed across Damien’s body. He’d had a feeling House Ravenwood would go that direction, especially given his conversation with Caiaphas the other night. But to hear it spoken so boldly felt like a shot straight to the heart.
“Such a treaty, when found out by the Dominia Empire, will only provoke the very thing we are trying to avoid: an invasion. We have lived in peace with the empire for the last four hundred years. There is no reason to assume the empire has any ill intentions toward our lands or our people. Yes, there are skirmishes along the border, but there will always be tension along the border. That is the nature of things.”
“And what of the new commander?” Lord Rune Vivek asked, his dark face tight. “He has already reached beyond the Dominia border to the east.”
“We have no desire to go to war with the Dominia Empire. House Ravenwood will not sign the treaty. It is not in our best interest.”
Damien could tell Lord Vivek wanted to say more, but he clamped his mouth shut. If the last few days had not changed people’s minds, it would not happen now.
Lord Ivulf nodded. “I agree with Grand Lady Ragna. We must look out for our people first. House Friere will not be signing the treaty either.”
Lady Ragna and Lord Ivulf’s words seemed to have stirred Lady Bryren. She sat up stiffly and looked to her left at the two heads of house. Her nostrils flared and a glint entered her eyes. “Let it not be said that House Merek lost their courage in the face of adversity. If there is war, then both House Merek and her people will be there to fight.” She glanced at Lord Rune and his sister Runa. “House Merek will sign the treaty.”
A smile tugged on Damien’s lips. Count on Lady Bryren to come out fighting, even if it was only to show her support for the treaty.
Lord Haruk Rafel finally looked up, and Damien’s good feelings from moments ago evaporated. Lord Haruk’s appearance was even more haggard and aged, and there were great bags under his eyes. He avoided looking to his right where Lord Rune and Lady Runa sat as he gave his answer. “I’m afraid at this time House Rafel will not be signing the treaty.” Then he folded his hands and looked back down at the table.
Damien wanted to ask why, so much so that the question burned behind his lips, but he stopped. The talks were done and now was the time for decision. But there was a part of him that wondered what was going on in the back of Lord Haruk’s mind. Was he being coerced in some way?
Lord Rune straightened and looked around the room. Unlike Lady Ragna, Lord Rune Vivek appeared as a leader of nobility. His deep purple clothing accented his rich, dark skin, and the gold bands around his muscular arms stood out. His deep voice rumbled as he started to talk. “Lady Ragna, you are right in the fact that we should do what is best for our people and for our houses. But perhaps you should consider that sometimes means looking beyond our boundaries to the people and houses that border our
own. One house, though powerful, will never withstand the might of the empire. But two or more houses, like entwined strands, will not snap. Their strength is in their unity. For too long House Vivek has stood alone. It is time for my house to join the others. Therefore, House Vivek will sign the treaty.”
There were murmurs around the table as Lady Runa squeezed her brother’s arm in agreement.
Lord Leo cleared his throat beside Damien. The room grew silent again. “I have consulted with my father, Grand Lord Warin, about the matter of this treaty. It is my father’s wish that House Luceras sign the treaty.”
Damien narrowed his eyes as he stared at Lord Leo. It almost seemed like Leo did not agree with his father’s decision, but as the heir and not the grand lord, it was not his decision to make.
All eyes turned toward Damien. Damien sat up and placed his hands on the table. “I originally called this assembly”—he glanced at Lady Ragna, who stared back with tight lips—“because of the growing threat of the Dominia Empire. But what many of you don’t know is that it has been the wish of my father, and my father’s father, to someday unite the seven Great Houses. A long time ago, although we were each different, with different gifts and as leaders of different people, we were one. Nothing could stand against us, even the empire. I had hoped that we could resurrect that unity once again. However, it seems this is not the time. Even so, House Maris will join those houses in signing the treaty.”
Lord Rune bowed his head in Damien’s direction while Lady Bryren grinned. Damien answered their looks with a small nod. He wanted to exude as much confidence and hope as he could muster, mainly for those houses signing the treaty, but inside, all he wanted to do was leave.
As Lady Ragna droned on with closing remarks, Damien sat back. He felt like a failure. He had failed to unite the seven houses. His heart thudded dully inside his chest as Lord Rune took his turn to thank the houses joining his in the treaty. A time was set for tomorrow for those houses to return, then the meeting was adjourned.
Mark of the Raven Page 24
