“That, my daughter, you will have to see for yourself.” Arece replied. As they approached Sloane’s chambers, her mother walked past the door without a glance and proceeded down the richly decorated corridor toward Galen’s and Sacha’s quarters.
Sloane hesitated in front of her door with confusion until she spotted the servants bustling in and out of her sister’s room. They were filling large trunks with finery and other personal possessions that belonged to Sacha. There must have been over a dozen men and women, dressed in the brilliant red and gold of their kingdom’s heraldry, busy at the task. Above all of the noise and confusion, Sloane could make out Sacha’s voice barking commands to all of them.
Sloane took an involuntary step toward the torrent of people in front of her sister’s room, and then another, and another, until she found herself sprinting down the hallway, overtaking her mother in the process. She could hear Arece laugh in delight behind her as she came to a sliding halt in the doorway of her sister’s room, blocking the flow of encumbered servants, who attempted to bow at her sudden appearance.
One poor fellow, loaded down with what appeared to be Sacha’s riding gear, bent himself almost completely in half upon seeing her. Sloane caught sight of her sister for the first time in over two years and her heart leapt with joy.
Sacha looked quite the adventurer, dressed in a tight-fitting leather vest with a billowing cream-colored shirt underneath. Dark chestnut pants that looked more like a dress split down the middle were tucked into her knee-high boots. Other than the clothing, though, Sloane might as well have been looking into a mirror.
It was curious that she never recognized her own beauty until setting eyes on her twin. Sloane rarely thought about her looks with any seriousness, even while preparing for formal events. It had always been a matter of duty or tradition to primp, but it was not something she enjoyed. Sacha, however, was radiant, and it was hard for Sloane to not feel pleasure at the thought that they looked identical. Sacha possessed more than just physical beauty. She also radiated confidence, even as she stood with her hands on her hips surveying the mess that was her chambers. This broadened the smile on Sloane’s face.
Long, dark locks of hair fell about Sacha’s shoulders as sharp, crystal-blue eyes searched the covered floor and tables for things only she could discern, until she noticed the line of people tumbling into and out of her room had stopped. Sacha looked to the door immediately for the source of the blockade and a broad smile of her own bloomed on her face.
Raising her hands and gently placing them on the shoulders of the men in front of her, Sloane bade them to step aside so she could pass. She looked each in the eye and nodded when they bowed in acquiescence, then walked with purpose to her sister and embraced her with more strength than she had her mother atop the Acklune. “It is so good to have you home, sister.”
“It is good to be home,” Sacha replied, squeezing Sloane in return.
“We would like to have a few moments alone,” Arece announced as she came into the room. The servants scuttled out into the hallway and closed the door behind them like a rustled group of chickens spotting a fox in the hen house.
“I have missed you both so much,” Sacha said as she pulled away and looked Sloane up and down. “You haven’t changed a bit.”
“You haven’t either,” Sloane lied. Sacha had changed. Now that she was closer, she could see something different in her sister’s eyes and the way she carried herself; she was no longer the carefree, troublesome youth Sloane grew up with, but a somber, focused woman.
Sloane looked at the clothes scattered around the room; most appeared to be lined with heavy furs and leather. Not surprising, considering where Sacha had spent the past two years. “What was it like up there?” she asked.
Sacha looked away from Sloane to their mother, emotion draining from her face. “Cold... but the training was very interesting, so I was quite diverted from boredom.”
“And what did they say of your potential?” Arece asked as she moved to a thick, padded sofa and sat.
“They seemed to deem me adequate.”
Arece arched her brow. “Only adequate? I’m surprised. Initially the mages thought you would become much more than simply adequate. What changed, I wonder?”
“I couldn’t say, Mother. You’ll have to ask them.”
Sacha’s responses were terse. Sloane studied the interplay between her mother and sister and came to realize that Sacha was holding something back. This was definitely a different Sacha than the one who had departed so suddenly to the Monastery. Her sister would never have passed up the opportunity to brag about her accomplishments before leaving for the northern sanctuary. Sloane found it to be a little unsettling, as she was used to being the one who showed more caution and restraint. What had happened to her carefree sister?
Looking for an opportunity to break the sudden tension, she blurted out the first thing that came to mind. “Can you show us something? With the magic, I mean.”
Both women turned to her, and Sacha gazed at Sloane for a long moment before nodding. She scanned the room until her gaze settled on a vase full of roses sitting on the intricately carved, winewood table in front of their mother. Sacha stepped up to the small table and plucked a single rose from the arrangement, then slowly rolled it between her thumb and forefinger.
Sloane’s eyes grew wide as the rose started to change color. What looked like the darkest ink spread from Sacha’s fingers up the stem, covering leaves and thorns as it flowed to the luscious red pedals, changing the entire flower to a deep charcoal. Sloane took in a sharp breath and covered her mouth with her hand.
“This seems more appropriate for the occasion, don’t you think?” Sacha said with a show of teeth that fell well short of a smile. Crossing the sitting area, she offered the rose to Sloane. Arece made a noise as if clearing her throat.
Sloane tentatively took the black rose and smiled as she studied it more closely. It felt the same as any other rose and smelled no different when she put the petals to her nose and took a deep breath. “That’s amazing!” she laughed.
Sloane shook her head in disbelief and looked up from the dark flower to ask Sacha to do something else, only to find her sister glaring at her, and Arece staring at both of them with growing intensity.
“What?” Sloane asked.
Sacha exploded. “That’s all you have to say? ‘What?!’” She waved her hands in frustration, then planted them on her hips. “Have you gone daft in my absence, or are you happy with Father’s decision to marry you off to some fool you’ve never met, who’s going to take you a thousand miles from home?”
“Sacha!” Arece yelled, rising sharply to her feet.
Finally the sister Sloane knew and loved had come to the surface in a blaze of fury. She smiled deeply at her. “I wouldn’t use the word ‘happy,’ but I am coming to terms with what I must do.”
“By Eos, you sound like her!” Sacha replied, motioning to Arece. “You have gone daft—”
Sloane allowed herself to rage back at her sister. “Am I? What would you have me do? I can’t change Father’s decision, as much as I would like to. And what would happen to our kingdom if this union does not take place?” She was starting to remember how aggravating Sacha could be; it was madness for her to think Sloane enjoyed this ordeal.
Sacha dropped her hands from her hips and extended them toward Sloane as she stepped close. “I would have you come with me, and the two of us leave this stupidity behind.”
“Sacha! Enough!” Arece commanded. “You are here to help your sister cope with the events that are about to transpire, not poison her against them!” The queen came to stand beside her two daughters. “No more talk of running, or you will be sent back to the North this very day.”
Sloane watched the fire die in Sacha’s eyes and her gaze went to the floor. “I’m sorry... I promised myself I wouldn’t do this. I just don’t want to see you suffer as I have.” The voice that escaped her lips was just audible.
Arece felt a surge of pride at Sloane’s decision to embrace the coming marriage, even to the point of defending it against her sister’s attack. At the same time, she felt sadness for both of her daughters; each caught in a different but no less excruciating situation.
“I will give you two time to catch up, but don’t dally; there are many things that need attending to in the next few days.” She hugged them both, then took her leave.
The servants in the corridor came to attention as she closed the heavy door to Sacha’s quarters with a loud thud. An older, heavyset man stepped forward and bowed as Arece turned to face the group.
“My Queen,” said the large man.
“Harold, these trunks will need to be put in Galen’s room for now,” Arece commanded with a tilt of her chin at the piled things. She took hold of Harold’s arm and led him away from the rest of the servants. “Give my daughters two hours, then remind them of their duties.”
“As you say, My Queen.” Harold bowed once more, then strode off to direct the other servants.
Arece made her way back to the main hall deep in thought. She needed a solution to take the edge off of Sloane’s preoccupation and Sacha’s antipathy toward the journey to Basinia, or they might convince each other to do something foolish. Sacha had already allowed herself to fall to rash action, and the cost had not only been levied against her. Arece had also been forced to endure the temporary exile of her son, Galen. She could not allow a similar situation to happen again.
She tightened her fists as she walked with purpose toward the staircase that would take her down to the throne room. Arece would need trusted eyes on her daughters, someone well grounded... or better yet, a group of friends to keep the two girls distracted. Yes, an entourage of their closest friends, their cousins, would travel with them to Waterfall Citadel. Hopefully, her daughters couldn’t convince the lot of them to do something rash.
Slowing her pace through the corridors, Arece pondered her last thought. Her daughters could be influential, so the possibility still remained that an entourage of family would not be enough to keep them in check. The queen decided she would have to send someone loyal only to her to be sure the sisters stayed out of trouble. Eos knew, Sacha would be trouble enough on her own.
Something would have to be done about Sacha on their arrival to Waterfall Citadel. Her studies at the Monastery were important, but the isolation had taken its toll. Sacha needed companionship, and not the kind she had found with that traveling singer, Renee. Arece would arrange an extended stay in Basinia for her. Perhaps the troubled girl could meet a prominent nobleman during her stay and fall in love, or at least get married.
Actually, Arece would arrange for that as well. Leave nothing to chance, she thought. Arece maintained powerful connections in Waterfall Citadel; it was time for her to put them to use. She would make sure her daughters were together so they could protect one another. She would have been thankful for a similar situation during her first years in the castle with Hathorn.
As Arece rounded a corner at the base of the stairwell, strong hands took hold of her and pulled her into a dark chamber off the small hallway.
Arece tried to scream and clawed for the door as the light reduced to a sliver and then vanished. The hand over her mouth was incredibly strong but it did not squeeze hard enough to cause pain. She bit down savagely on the meaty hand and threw her elbow back in an upward arc to hopefully catch her assailant in the face.
A deep grunt sounded as her elbow connected with something soft. The arms dropped her and she began to scramble away. “Arece! Stop, dammit. It’s me!”
Arece staggered to a halt once she recognized the voice. She turned slowly, breathing deeply. The panic gave way abruptly to anger, and she growled through clenched teeth, “You stupid, bloody fool! You scared me to death... and what if someone had seen you?”
Arece’s eyes began to adjust to the gloom, and she could begin to make out the broad shoulders and thick arms of Bale, captain of the castle guard and bodyguard to the royal family of Pelos. He crossed the distance between them in a heartbeat and pressed his lips to hers roughly, pushing her against the door in the process.
Arece could taste blood in her mouth from the split lip she had given him. In spite of her anger, her body responded as his kiss became more intense. Still angry, she shoved him off and hissed, “You’ll get us both killed! We’ve spoken of this before. No more until my daughters are settled in Basinia!” Arece took a deep, calming breath, attempting to master herself.
“Forgive me, My Queen. I can’t keep you from my mind.” Bale’s voice came in a strained whisper. He stepped closer and placed his hand on the door, then leaned in to smell her hair.
His breath on her neck made Arece’s skin tingle in anticipation, and she stepped around his large frame into the room. “Enough, Bale! I command it!” She couldn’t afford to lose control of her emotions with Bale. Every part of her yearned for the warmth of his touch; it was maddening. “We should never have begun this affair in the first place. By Eos, what was I thinking?”
“How could you say such a thing?” Bale stepped away from the door but kept his distance. “The king is a cold man, My Queen. You deserve more than that. Better than that. What we have together is real!”
Guilt washed over her like a mudslide. “Deserving has little to do with it. I’ve allowed myself this selfish escape.” She held up a hand to forestall his protest. “No matter how real it feels. What I should be tending to is the kingdom, and my daughters.”
Bale shook his head. “You blame yourself for the princesses’ troubles needlessly. They make their own decisions now, and have for some time.”
Arece laughed but there was no mirth in it. “You call exile and an arranged marriage ‘choices’? You have a twisted sense of free will.”
Bale folded his arms across his broad chest. “You confuse responsibility with choice. They were taught what was to be expected of them. It was Sacha’s choice to run. Sloane has chosen to handle her responsibilities with much more dignity. You cannot blame yourself, nor take credit for their actions. They took what you gave them and acted according to their personalities.”
Arece snorted softly. “Oh, if it were only so simple. I knew Sacha would run, I knew it from when she was very young. She’s too much like I was, always wanting a happy ending”—her voice quavered softly—“and I did nothing to stifle those foolish, unrealistic dreams.”
“You would’ve broken her if you had done so.”
“Is she not broken now? Stripped of love, dignity, and... pride.” Arece had almost said “child,” which would have been a most grievous error. Apart from Sacha and herself, the mages were the only ones who knew of Sacha’s child. If the king were to find out, her grandchild’s life would be forfeit, and quite possibly Sacha’s as well. She felt she could trust Bale with her life, and indeed had already done so, but the fewer people who knew, the fewer roads available for the truth to travel.
Bale countered, “No, I don’t believe so. I spoke with Sacha briefly upon her arrival, and if anything, she has become stronger. She reminded me of the king, actually.” He leaned against one of the high-backed chairs scattered about the room.
“Wonderful.” Arece threw a hand into the air. “The one person I truly wanted her to take after.” She shook her head and sat down on one of the plush chairs in defeat. The thought that Sacha might come to emulate the model of Hathor
n and his icy reserve horrified Arece.
Bale shrugged. “Better that than broken.”
The words rang in her head and Arece’s first inclination was to agree with them, but she had other hopes for her daughter and they did not include her loss of soul. “No, I will not let Sacha become like her father. You must do something for me.”
“Anything.”
The lack of hesitation in Bale’s reply warmed her heart. Her next words came with more confidence as the idea solidified. “I need you to go to Basinia with my daughters. You must keep them safe.”
“You know I would do anything for you, and not just because you are my queen. But leaving your side wasn’t what I had in mind.” He stepped around the chair and slowly walked toward her.
She knew Bale wouldn’t like his part in her plan, but it was the wisest course of action. He was the only one Arece fully trusted, and she needed the space his absence would give her. She would be able to rest with some measure of confidence in her daughter’s safety and decide what to do about her and Bale’s relationship. “There is more,” she continued as he came to kneel beside her.
Arece slowly stroked his finely cut beard and looked deep into his fiery brown eyes. “There was a man, a noble, who came here from Basinia several years ago. For the salt and grain trade agreement. Do you remember him?”
Bale furrowed his brow and slowly nodded. “I spoke with this man. Yes, I remember him.”
“His name is Sir Banlor Graves.” Her voice picked up speed as her confidence became resolve. “You must meet with him on my behalf to set up a liaison for Sacha. It is time to find a match for her, as was done for her sister.”
“I understand.” Bale smiled slightly. He looked away for a moment, the smile fading into a frown. “And what of us?”
“What of us, Bale?” Arece asked in return, letting out a long breath. “You know as well as I there is no place we can go where he would not find us. How long can our secret remain our secret? It’s only a matter of time...” She let the words fade. It was too frightening a thought for her to finish.
Dark Fate: The Gathering (The Dark Fate Chronicles Book 1) Page 6
