A Crown of Lilies

by Melissa Ragland

  Quintin watched me battle with the truth of it. “Why go at all, then?” he asked more gently.

  I did face him, then, the calm purpose of our mission bolstering me in my grief. “Because Selice needs as many allies as possible.”

  “Then send Will. He can handle the petition alone.”

  The corner of my mouth quirked in a rueful smile. “I need to see for myself.”

  He nodded slowly, choosing his words with care. “And if the rumors are false?”

  I held his gaze, unflinching. “Then I will fulfill my duty with as much dignity as remains to me.”

  He scoffed at that, and a part of me couldn’t blame him. “He never came for you! He never even wrote. In two years, not a single letter.”

  “I gave my word,” I said steadily, smothering the pain in my chest as I watched the anger ripple behind his careful mask. He had never particularly liked Adrian, and the last two years had done nothing to improve his regard. Silence stretched between us before I pressed on. “One way or another, tomorrow we will know for certain.”

  He looked away, shaking his head aggravatedly and drawing another bracing breath. “I can’t.” He swallowed, voice rasping through a throat caught tight with frustration. “I can’t take you tomorrow.”

  I balked. “He won’t even be there.”

  “Nonetheless.”

  I waited for him to say something more, to offer some explanation, but he merely set his jaw stubbornly and kept his silence. His reticence boiled my blood.

  “Fine,” I said bitterly. “If you’re so damned disgusted with me, I’m sure Will would be glad to go in your stead.”

  “I never said-”

  “I gave him my word,” I repeated, taking an angry step toward him and jabbing one finger at the ground. “If my honor means so damned much to you, I would think you’d understand.”

  “I can’t.” Blue eyes met mine for a brief moment before dodging away again. “I’m sorry.”

  I shook my head in disbelief. “Why?” When he didn’t respond, my anger quickly took the lead again in the face of his evasiveness. “Tell me why, damn you!”

  “Because I’ve spent years as your escort,” he snapped in reply, composure slipping. “Delivering you to him time and again.” I could feel my shield begin to crack as I watched his face twist in desperate anger. “I hated every second of it. I hated the smell of him on you. I hated the look in your eyes.” My heart ached as he finally faced me and shrugged, resigned. “But it was my duty, and you loved him, and that was worth every miserable moment.” Wheat hair rustled as he shook his head again, slowly. “I can’t do it. Not this time.”

  My pulse pounded in my ears as a tear slipped from the corner of my eye, the flames of my anger thoroughly doused. “Why,” I forced out, not sure I could bear to hear the answer.

  Earnest eyes bored into mine as he tilted his head at me. Do you truly not know? He didn’t need to ask aloud. Every drop of his torment was laid bare on his face; for once, a book left wide open for me to read.

  I did, every page.

  I knew. I had known, I think, for a long time. Just like the scent of lilies and the crippling ache in my chest, I had buried it deep, too afraid of the weakness it threatened to unearth in me.

  I longed to touch him, to take his face in my hands and press my brow to his. I didn’t. I couldn’t, or risk being well and truly lost. With every ounce of my will, I forced every tender memory back down into the pit of my stomach, burying them once again with the rest of the things I couldn’t bear to face. Lilies or no, I had given my word. Even if I could have made sense of the tormented schism in my heart, it wouldn’t have mattered. What little honor yet remained to my name, I could not forsake now.

  “Then I won’t ask you to,” I murmured with forced finality, swiping one hand determinedly across my cheek. “Will and I will meet you in the Kingswood.” I didn’t wait for his response, I just fled back through the dark toward the inn. After a few quick words to my confused young companion, I retreated to the solace of my empty room.

  When dawn came, I’d barely slept, lying on my lumpy cot and staring at the ceiling, twisting the sapphire ring on its chain and trying not to think about the feel of Quintin’s arms around me. Gathering my things, I knocked quietly on Will’s door and he trailed after me to the stables. I began hauling Valor’s saddle off a nearby rack as my young guard finally voiced his concerns.

  “This isn’t right, miss. We shouldn’t be going without him.”

  I heaved the saddle up over my mount’s broad back. “It’s his decision.”

  “He’s supposed to protect you,” he protested unhappily.

  My hands worked at the buckles on the girth. “Isn’t that what you’re here for?” I replied, my voice hollow.

  He stiffened. “I’m not the same. I’m not as good.”

  I turned to him in a forced effort to reassure, but I fear it came off more impatient than anything else. “Together, you and I can equal one damned Tuvrian. We’re less than a day from the Van Dryn manor. We’ll be fine.”

  He left it, saddling his own mount and leaving the pack horse. Adrian might be away at sea, but Lord Yuri would see us well supplied and likely even smuggle us upriver on one of the barges. Climbing into the saddle, I gave one last glance toward the inn, a part of me hoping he would have changed his mind. The courtyard was empty.

  Burying the last aching shreds of my chaotic heart, I set myself once again to the task at hand. It was a long day on the road, punctuated by moments of tension as we passed Persican patrols and priests with their Origin guard. We kept our heads down and avoided any undue attention.

  Dusk was settling over Daria when we finally caught sight of the estate, a vast, sprawling manor nestled a few hundred yards from the bluffs, the White Sea roaring below. Will and I exchanged a glance and spurred our mounts across the grassy plain toward it. It was nearly dark when we drew close, and we donned our cloaks before reaching the gates, our plan prepared well in advance.

  Will announced us as couriers with a message from the Queen, and we were admitted posthaste. We waited in the foyer as the doorman disappeared into the house to herald our arrival. Hood still up, I hovered discreetly behind Will, cautious of my reception in light of the rumors.

  Minutes passed before footsteps returned, and a woman I’d not met greeted us with a carefully masked demeanor. Young and pretty, dark hair and bright blue eyes evaluated us dispassionately. One hand rested on the gentle swell of her belly beneath her blue silk gown. I felt my heart sink and knew the truth of it before she ever opened her mouth. The sapphire ring beneath my tunic burned against my skin.

  “I am Lady Vanessa Daekrix no Van Dryn. My husband is not here, I’m afraid,” she commented with forced aloofness as we bowed politely.

  “Perhaps we might speak with Lord Yuri?” Will prompted.

  She tilted her head at him. “Lord Yuri and Lady Tasha have retired to their inland estate.” A calculated smile curved her generous lips. “I will hear your petition.” Blue eyes glanced at me as I pulled back my hood. “Goodness, a woman courier. How unusual.”

  “My wife, Marisa,” Will introduced me without hesitation. I bobbed a clumsy curtsy, keeping my gaze downcast.

  “Mm.” She turned back to him. “Well, any servant of the Queen is welcome in this house.” One delicate hand gestured down the hall. “You must be hungry after your journey. There should be some supper left.”

  We followed her to the dining room, where a neatly-pressed cook promptly delivered two plates of roasted quail, greens, and rolls before us. Will tucked in heartily, chatting politely with the Lady of the House as she sat and watched. I picked at my meal, trying to remain as inconspicuous as possible. As we ate, my mind spun, filing through the catalogs of my memory until I found her: Vanessa, the younger daughter of Nathaniel ben Daekrix, the Lord of Dax. The pieces slowly fell into place. Adrian needed ships. The galleons I’d stolen for him had long since been recalled. The price of his people�
��s lives was his own: an advantageous marriage for her, in exchange for the ships he needed. I, who had offered myself freely to the Lord of Savern in exchange for his aid, had no right to fault him.

  Still, it hurt.

  As we finished our food, a nurse brought a small boy, barely six months old, into the room on one hip. “Forgive me, my lady,” she murmured. “I thought you might want to say goodnight.”

  Vanessa beamed at him and pulled him into her lap a moment. I couldn’t help but look, then, as she kissed his plump cheeks and cradled him to her. A shock of black hair fell into his eyes, and I knew them in an instant. Swirling tempests of gray watched me curiously across the table. When she handed him back with one last kiss, I was too slow to drop my eyes. She saw them, as she returned her attention to me. Despite her best efforts, she was easy enough to read. She’d not had my mother’s training. She knew who I was, and I was far from welcome in her house.

  “Now, what news do you bring from Her Majesty?” she asked casually, leaning back in her chair.

  Will’s green eyes flicked to me, and I gave him an imperceptible shake of my head. Don’t tell her anything.

  He proceeded to spin a drab tale of defeat and hardship, placing the meager remnants of our army somewhere in Arradon. The petition, he reworked as a plea for supplies and coin. The Van Dryn House was known for its wealth and resources, and Her Majesty could ask for no better ally in the war to come. Surely, with their aid, we could raise a sizable force within a year, to march on Litheria before the following winter.

  “And you’ve brought no letter from the Queen to certify your petition?” she asked him, taken aback.

  He replied in his most somber tone. “I fear it has become too dangerous to put anything into writing, my lady. Couriers are being stopped on every major road these days.”

  The corner of her mouth quirked in amusement. “Of course.” She stood delicately, one hand on the small swell of her belly. “I will speak with my husband, and Lord Yuri, regarding your request. Be assured I will press your case will all due enthusiasm.” Calling for her chamberlain to see us to a guest room, she begged off to retire for the evening. We bowed as she departed, and followed him down several hallways to a modest chamber with a single large bed. With a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes, he left us. I heard the latch click, and then a second rattle as the door was locked from the outside.

  We exchanged a glance, holding our breath as the chamberlain’s steps retreated down the hallway. After a few minutes, I tried the handle. I shook my head at Will and he muffled a curse. We waited in silence for nearly an hour, listening to the manor settle into the silence of night. There was no window, no other way out of the small room.

  My mind worked, gears turning. She would betray us to save her House, of that I had no doubt. Daria was swarming with Persicans. It wouldn’t take long for one of her men to alert a contingent of them to our presence. As I ruminated, Will began to pick at the seam of one boot with his belt knife, carefully severing the stitches and wrestling something long and metal from between the leather and lining. Holding up a pair of slender tools, he grinned and went to work on the lock.

  It didn’t take him long. The tumbler shouted into the silence as the lock turned beneath his skillful hand. We both froze for long minutes, waiting to hear hurried steps approaching. None came. Exhaling, we removed our boots and slipped into the dark hall. My heart hammered in my chest as we crept toward the entrance. Two Van Dryn guard stood sentry and I cursed in my mind. With another silent exchange, we agreed to backtrack and headed for the kitchens. I feared servants would still be there, and debated whether I had the fortitude to slit an innocent’s throat for the sake of my own. To this day, I don’t know if I could have. I’d like to think not, but fear and self-preservation are powerful motivators. Thankfully, the kitchen was empty and we slipped out the unguarded servants’ entrance.

  Above us, a nearly full moon lit the clear night sky. It would be difficult to get away unseen. Taking note of a rear gate, I followed Will toward the stables. The leather of our tack creaked loudly in the dark as we saddled our drowsy mounts. Valor’s ear twitched at me and I knew he could tell I was afraid. Leading them as quietly as possible, we backtracked for the rear gate. Closing it quietly behind us, I turned to the open field and swore under my breath.

  There, across the coastal plain, a shimmer of white crested the nearest hill. A dozen Persican guards in their white armor rode our way. Another darker figure led them, Vanessa’s servant returning with the enemy to arrest us. My mind raced as I grasped for the best course of action. Valor could outrun them, but not Will’s common mount. Laezon bred, yes, but for endurance rather than speed. We could sneak around to the far side of the house, but the fields were wide and the moon full. We would be spotted before we could get far. I couldn’t let them take Will. Someone had to warn Selice of Daria’s betrayal.

  I should kill him and run. It would be the safest choice, most likely to see the message delivered and the cause protected. My fingers closed on the hilt of my knife and I stared at his stricken profile as he watched the enemy closing in on us. The moonlight caught his green eyes, the thin scar along his jaw, and I knew.

  Damn.

  Wrenching my father’s knife from my belt, I grabbed my young companion and shoved the sheathed blade harshly into his hands.

  “Go around the back of the house, out of sight, and make north for the tree line. If I don’t meet you at the inn before midday tomorrow, find Quintin and give him this. Get to Selice. Tell her Daria is not to be trusted.”

  His brow knit in stubbornness and fear. “I’m not leaving you.”

  I ignored his protest and thrust the dagger at him again. “Take it, damn you! Tell Quintin to finish it. Tell him...” I hesitated, his face swimming in my mind. A shout rang out across the field. We’d been spotted. “Tell him I’m sorry. Tell him not to carry my face.” There were a million things I wanted to tell him, but it was too late. There was no time. I could hear the hoofbeats pounding the dirt. “Go!” I shoved him and he scrambled into the saddle, tucking the knife into his belt.

  I climbed up onto Valor’s back and kneed him forward out of the shadow of the manor, his dappled coat shimmering in the moonlight. Behind me, Will slipped away along the walls on his dark mare as the enemy thundered across the field toward me in a furious cloud of white. Beneath me, Valor shifted anxiously. I reached into my saddlebags and yanked the length of silk gauze from it, wrapping it around my fist and raising it to catch the light.

  “I am the heir of Lazerin!” I shouted across the fields. “Come and get me.” My brave stallion gave a hop as he turned and burst beneath me in the opposite direction, careening across the grass toward the bluffs. Glancing over one shoulder, I saw them turn to follow, two of their number peeling off to chase Will. There was nothing I could do for him now. I led the remaining bulk of them in a wide loop around the estate, eventually turning eastward back the way they’d come. They pressed their mounts hard, but Valor was faster. We would have outrun them.

  As I crested the hill on which I’d first spotted them, I nearly collided with a second company of Persican soldiers. Horses shied and men shouted in alarm. Valor heeled in surprise, rearing and turning toward the bluffs. Panicked, I spared another glance over my shoulder. Among the white masses in hot pursuit, I spotted a single figure in red and the icy fingers of fear slid down my spine. They fanned around to my left flank, blocking my escape back across the fields as the first company approached on my right. I was cut off, with only one direction to go and the ground quickly running out before me.

  I can’t go back. If they caught me again, I knew I’d break. I had every detail of our plan inside my head, every ally, every secret, every wagon of supplies and unit of soldiers. Everything. If they took me alive, everything and everyone I cared about would be lost. I would betray them all before it was over.

  Better to die.

  The beast in my chest somersaulted, driving me onwa
rd to spite them with my final act in this life. I clutched the silk in my hand, along with Valor’s reins. Laboring beneath me, barrel heaving, my brave stallion raced on unafraid toward the edge.

  “Courage,” I whispered to him, my words stolen by the wind.

  He leapt.

  We fell through the darkness.

  Somewhere along the way, I lost my grip on him.

  I don’t recall hitting the water. Flashes of light flickered in intermittent bursts, long stretches of darkness between. In them, moments of great violence and despair, tenderness and joy. A final lingering image hovered in the darkness, a single golden lily slowly opening before me.

  Not yet, the impossible voice whispered.

  I bolted upright with a screeching gasp. Light and noise and voices overwhelmed me from all sides.

  “Captain!” one shouted. I flailed violently to ward off my attackers as my vision cleared. Hands grabbed at me, a number of calls ringing out. I scrambled backward, unable to make out any of them. Footsteps raced toward me, rattling the wood beneath my palms.

  “Make way!” a woman commanded brusquely. Bodies scurried aside. A slender figure dropped down next to me. “Elivya?” a familiar voice called. I looked up toward it and froze in the shadow of a friendly face.

  “Natalia?” I croaked.

  Storm eyes glittered at me and she nodded, smiling.

  I looked around me, my panic giving way to disbelief. I’m alive? “How?” I turned back to her, eyes narrowing. “How are you here?”

  “I might ask you the same thing. What the hells were you thinking?” she scolded.

  My eyes continued to flick around at the faces about me. My heart sank, remembering. “Valor. My horse, did you see him?” I pressed her, desperation in my voice.

  Her smile faded. “He didn’t survive the fall, I’m sorry.”

  I swallowed a sob. My brave boy. Forgive me.

  “It’s a fucking miracle you survived. It’s a hundred feet from that bluff, and you didn’t exactly go gracefully.”

  “You saw?”