Sunken Wind

by Sara T K Fehr

  That caught Amri’s attention and she narrowed her eyes as she took his hand. His smile widened and he pulled her towards the dance floor. Like the King-Regent, he took her right hand with his left and gently rested his right hand on the left side of her hip. As her lessons dictated, she placed her left hand upon his right shoulder and the dance began. He moved with purpose as he led her around the dance floor. Thankfully, his dance was more relaxed than the King-Regent’s had been. She almost found herself enjoying the spinning as he pulled their bodies closer together and whispered to her.

  “You’re Amri correct?”

  She nodded with a hopeful smile.

  “Ezra asked that I speak with you.” He pulled away slightly and continued in less of a suspicious tone. “My name is Lord Cassian Alstrahd and it is a pleasure to meet you. Your friend is very concerned about you, I’m glad that I can report that you’re doing well.”

  Amri frowned and looked to the iron band predominant upon her wrist. “I could be doing better.”

  “That is the future I am working towards.” He smiled. “I want to assure you that, with the help of our mutual friend, your predicament should be short lived.”

  She cocked an eyebrow at him curiously. “How?”

  Lord Cassian leaned in again as he answered. “I have significant influence that rivals the King-Regent’s. If all goes according to my plans, Esper will no longer be made to suffer and thus you will be free.”

  They pulled away and Lord Cassian spun Amri around his hand before pulling her close again. She smiled at him; rebellion was something she knew how to do.

  “I want to help.” She whispered as the dance slowed again. “I’m on the inside and I can get close to the King-Regent, maybe I could…”

  “I would not ask something so grisly of you.” He cut her off in anticipation of her suggestion.

  “I can help in other ways.” She frowned. This was her family’s legacy, she needed to have a hand in its salvation. “The staff are essentially slaves; I could unite them to fight from the inside.”

  “You’re a confident one, aren’t you?”

  “I grew up in Verta, rallying people for a good cause is something I’m good at.”

  Lord Cassian nodded, seemingly impressed. “Then I will leave the servants of the castle in your hands. I have a contact, someone that I trust and who can come and go as they please. I will advise them to contact you when the time is right.”

  Amri felt excited and wanted to speak with Eva that instant about her plans. King-Regent Razmir was going to get what was coming to him and the people of Esper, her people, would finally be free of his tyranny.

  Then all too abruptly, dance came to an end. Lord Cassian took Amri’s hand in his and kissed it as he bowed before her. She felt her cheeks grow a little flush at the gesture and only remembered at the last minute that she was supposed to curtsey in such situations. Lord Cassian gave her a refined smile at the gesture.

  “It was a pleasure to dance with you this evening Lady Kirra. Until we meet again.” After another polite bow, he disappeared into the crowd.

  Amri beamed excited at her renewed purpose. She wanted to start work that instant and moved towards the edges of the ballroom again. Her eyes scanned the room for Eva, she would be the first to know the good news.

  Chapter Forty

  Browen

  Keeping to his post in the ballroom, Browen marveled at the delights around him and wondered why his father had never brought his family to such opulent events. Like everyone else, Browen’s head had swiveled towards the grand staircase as the King-Regent was announced with his pet. His hands had curled into angry balls at the announcement, Amri wasn’t even given a name just the word pet. She looked stunning however, Browen hardly recognized her in all the finery. She seemed oddly suited to it too, her head was head high as she followed the King-Regent with a defiant grace.

  Browen kept to the edges of the ballroom as he had been instructed, but his eyes were locked on Amri as the King-Regent spun her around the ballroom. Then the second announcement sounded, and he briefly turned his attention to the stairs. The Queen and her retinue had done well to try and upstage the King-Regent’s company in both titles and appearance.

  As his father was announced Browen smiled in spite of himself, he felt so glad that his father was alive and safe. And if the Queen still trusted him to work at her side, then surely Browen’s mother and sisters were safe too.

  The nobles near where Browen had stood whispered at the mention of the Serrelli name and he moved a little closer to listen in on their conversation.

  “It makes me sick to see that man walk freely through these halls.” A noble lady hissed behind the flutter of her fan.

  “Oath Breaker.” Cursed the gentleman on her arm. “All of Esper’s spilled blood is on his hands.”

  They weren’t the only ones. Whispers of Oath Breaker echoed from the Human nobles around the room, even after the dancing had resumed. Browen shuddered, he had never heard someone speak of his father like that before. And the presumably earned title of Oath Breaker gave Browen an odd sense of dread.

  For the rest of the evening, Browen followed Amri around as best he could. The Queen leaving tomorrow meant that his position at the castle would come to an end. He doubted that he would get another opportunity to speak with Amri after that.

  Despite his best efforts, Browen was unable to watch Amri the entire evening. She and the King-Regent had disappeared into the thick crowd and Browen lamented that he could not follow without breaking his cover. In those moments, he kept an eye on his father. He was certain that his father would recognize him if they got too close and so he ensured a significant distance. Lord Serrelli spent most of the evening in conversation with Na’tyr, and never far from Queen Zarrennia. It seemed that most of the Human nobles actively avoided him or endured a strained courtesy when they were forced to interact. Again, Browen felt a burning need to learn the reason, but also a dread at whatever the truth was.

  Browen could hardly breathe when he watched the King-Regent pull Amri towards first his father and then the Queen herself. He had stood frozen on the sideline, his body tense should things turn for the worst. When they finally stormed away from the Queen’s circle Browen sighed with relief only to watch Amri disappear into the crowds again.

  Then she was freed of her captor’s leash. Browen had been too far away to intercept as she hurried to the balcony and moved to join her. However, he had to pause and bow when the masked figure of Prince Arze hurried past him. He looked like he was going to be sick and Browen kept back to watch as the pair chatted through the glass. Between the distance and the masks Browen struggled to read the mood of the conversation but things undoubtedly turned sour as Commander Illian casually joined them. Amri did not remain long on the balcony and nearly ran into Browen as she hurried from the scene.

  He followed after her as she fumed, but his attempt to speak with her was again interrupted when a handsome young Lord dressed in black and gold asked her to dance. Relegated to the sidelines, Browen worried that he would not get a chance to talk to her before the night was done. Unlike her dance with the King-Regent she seemed to have enjoyed the young Lord’s company and smiled wide as they parted ways. A slight jealousy burned within him and he felt all the more determined to catch her attention this time.

  With an oddly excitable bounce to her step Amri moved hurriedly towards the edge of the room, her eyes clearly in a search for someone. Browen, however, saw his moment and reached out to tap her shoulder. She spun to face him, almost startled and he bowed low before her with a playful smirk.

  “Might I have this dance?” He extended his hand to her.

  She clearly did not recognize him at first and frowned at his extended hand, then it suddenly clicked, and her eyes went wide.

  She took his hand and moved close
r to whisper in his ear with a hiss. “What are you doing here?”

  “I wanted to help you of course.” He stood from his bow and led her towards a less crowded part of the ballroom.

  “You’re going to get in trouble!” She continued to whisper in her angry tone. “Your father is here.”

  “I know.” Browen sighed, then paused as he found a more secluded corner of the ballroom. “It is less suspicious for us to talk if we dance.”

  She blinked, a little surprised by the offer then nodded and allowed Browen to pull her into the formal stance. Then, with skill that seemed to surprise Amri, they began to move and spin to the music. He wanted to ask her about her time at the castle, to make sure that she was being treated well. He needed to form a plan with her on how they were going to get her out, but his voice was stopped by her beauty in the dim light of the ballroom. He had never seen her dressed so elegantly or with her hair tidy. But he didn’t need any of that to know that she was beautiful. He wanted to take off her mask and look into her face but dared not risk the attention such an action would bring their way. Amri also seemed to lose herself in the moment and she smiled as the music guided them around the dark edges of the ballroom.

  “This is how a noble dances.” He smiled as he recalled the wild dance they had shared at the Carnival of Dreams. It was a moment that felt like a lifetime ago now.

  She laughed at the reminder. “I think I preferred dancing in the forest. I didn’t have to worry about stepping on someone’s toes or getting my head cut off there.”

  Browen nodded, he could think of few things as dangerous as dancing among the enemy.

  “And I didn’t have to wear these ridiculous clothes.” She looked down at herself and stuck out her tongue.

  “I think you look beautiful, like a princess.” Browen blushed furiously as he realized that he had said the thought out loud.

  Amri frowned at the comment, and her whole body became tense under his hands. “Don’t say that.” She whispered. “Are you sure you should be dancing with me?”

  “Soldiers can have a little fun too.” He tried to reassure her. He wasn’t sure what he had said to upset her. “I’m going to get you out of here, I’m just not sure how yet.”

  Her mischievous smile returned, and she leaned in close to whisper into his ear. “I met your friend, Lord Cassian.”

  “Who?” He asked. He was certain that she could hear the rapid thud of his heartbeat in the near proximity, and his face felt like it burned a bright red.

  “Lord Cassian, he told me about his plan and I’m going to help him.”

  Browen shook his head, still uncertain. “I don’t know a Lord Cassian.”

  “But he…” She frowned as doubt shadowed her expression. “He said he was working with Ezra.”

  “Really? So, Ezra’s ok then.” Browen sighed in relief, he had heard nothing about his friends since beginning his own plans to save Amri.

  “What do you mean?” Amri sounded confused by the information. “You’re not working together?”

  “We were separated.” Browen confessed. “When I saw the soldier’s taking you to the castle, I needed to do something. I joined the soldiers so that I could be here to talk with you. I don’t know what the others have been up to.”

  “Are you serious?” She frowned, almost mad at the idea. “You could have been caught and killed! Why aren’t you working with the others?”

  “We were separated in the crowd the day you were taken.” He tried to defend his actions but felt only guilt under her gaze. “I ran into Ezra before I joined the soldiers, I presume that she found the others.”

  “When you leave here you need to go find Lord Cassian, then help him in any way that you can.” She then leaned so close to him that their cheeks were touching and whispered. “We’re going to take Esper back.”

  “What?” He blinked at the momentous task. “What about our quest?”

  “It will have to wait.” She answered firmly.

  “Either way, I’m not leaving here without you.” He stated firmly.

  “You have to.” She gave him a sad smile then gestured towards the plain iron band around her wrist. “This thing is magic; it will kill me if I try to leave the castle grounds.”

  “What?” Browen gasped, his hands tightened protectively around her.

  “It’s ok, Lord Cassian has a plan and you need to help him.” She smiled. “We’ll be together again soon.”

  “What about you?” He asked with an ache in his heart. “I can’t leave you to these… wolves.”

  “I’ll be fine.” She smiled sadly. “I want to do this either way Browen, I need to do this. Esper needs me.”

  He was surprised by the sudden authoritative tone to her voice and he nodded back with a sad smile. If they were going to be separated again, and she was going to continue to stay in the most dangerous place she could be, he needed to tell her the truth about his feelings. His heart raced at the idea and his face turned bright red. He could think of no better moment. The music was soft and romantic, the lighting gentle and calm, and they both looked the best that they had in weeks.

  He opened his mouth and closed it a few times as he struggled with the words that he needed to say.

  She gave him a crooked knowing smile. “What is it?”

  “There you are Lady Kirra.” A smooth voice interrupted the moment.

  The tall teal skinned Na’tyr that served as part of the King-Regent’s retinue was standing before them and gave Amri a frustrated expression.

  “King-Regent Razmir has requested your presence.”

  Amri let go of Browen and turned a snarl on Lord Zaphir. “Hasn’t he paraded me around enough this evening?”

  He raised an eyebrow at her defiance. “In my opinion more than enough, but he is the King-Regent and whatever he wants he gets. Come now.”

  “I thought you weren’t his errand boy?” She hissed stubbornly.

  “I’m not.” He hissed right back. “Shall we do this the hard way Lady Kirra?”

  Her stern defiance faded at the comment. She shook her head and willingly joined him. Browen had frowned through the exchange. He worried for her, despite the assurances that she had given him. Lord Zaphir gave him a curious glance as they departed and Browen hoped that they hadn’t acted too suspiciously in front of him.

  “Are you one of Lady Kirra’s friends?” An aged man had appeared as if from thin air to stand next to Browen.

  One quick glance told Browen that this man worked in the castle as a butler and had for a long time. He hesitated, it was impossible to determine who was a friend and who was a foe in the sea of masks.

  The butler noticed and continued without a response. “It is of the utmost importance that she be freed of his majesty’s court. I will do anything in my power to aid you in whatever it is you are planning.”

  Browen was surprised at the number of allies Amri had acquired in such a short time. “Thank you.”

  “You must protect her, above anything else. Is that understood, young man?” The butler gave him a harsh look as he waited for an answer.

  “Of course.” The question had surprised Browen, but he replied from the bottom of his heart. He did not need any formal promise or vow to know that he would do anything for Amri.

  “Good, what is your name young man?” He asked, seemingly satisfied.

  Browen debated which name to tell the man but his hesitation went too long, and the butler gave a long sigh.

  “It matters not. I do hope we get to meet again.” And with that he disappeared from Browen’s side.

  For the rest of the evening, Browen kept an eye on Amri as she was once again toted around by the increasingly intoxicated King-Regent. Browen kept to the edges of the ballroom as he had been instructed but struggled to not interfere as the King-Regent
grew more and more handsy with her. Even from a distance Browen could see the struggle Amri fought, between behaving and not tolerating the King-Regent’s foul behaviour.

  Browen failed to watch where he was going and accidentally walked head on into a guest. The interaction nearly knocked both of them to the floor and the Na’tyr he had collided with cursed as his drink spilled.

  “I’m sorry Sir, let me get you another.” Browen murmured, hardly taking his gaze off of Amri who was again on the dance floor.

  “Browen?” A familiar voice gasped.

  Browen turned towards the Na’tyr and recognized Forrens. He had spotted him earlier that evening near his father but had neglected to keep a watch on him to avoid such an interaction and Browen’s stomach flipped nervously.

  “What are you doing here?” His old instructor hissed, then shook his head and whispered. “Wait, let’s do this somewhere more private.”

  Forrens moved towards one of the many exits and Browen followed closely behind. He felt exhilarated to meet his old teacher again, but also vaguely terrified that his cover was about to be blown. So much had happened since he had been away and if he was being honest with himself, he wasn’t entirely certain that Forrens wasn’t loyal to the Queen.

  Forrens flawlessly made a show of berating Browen as a clumsy soldier who had spilled a drink on his expensive suit. He announced loudly then that he was going to make the soldier clean it up as punishment and together they slipped into the darkened halls of the castle. The further they moved from the ballroom the more nervous Browen felt, then they dipped into a side room that turned out to be a small private study.

  Presumably alone, Forrens took off his ornate black mask and crossed his arms as he surveyed Browen. He wore a predominantly black suit that looked sharp against his red skin, but accents of dark blue were hidden in the ornate designs of the fabric. The same dark blue of the Serrelli family.

  “You lied to me.” He commented as Browen took off his own mask.