A Crown of Lilies

by Melissa Ragland

  She nodded. “We’re on patrol up the coast from Savern, heading back to rendezvous with the rest of the fleet.”

  I wondered at the odds. Then I remembered who I was talking to. “What are you even doing out here? What about your family?”

  A wry smirk twisted her elegant mouth. “Adrian had ships, but experienced captains were in short supply. He keeps me running the coastal patrols. Less danger that way, or so I tell Oliver.” One of her men handed her a water skin, which she passed to me. “We’ve seen our share of action, though, haven’t we boys?” she raised her voice to them. A raucous howl sounded in reply.

  I sucked down water and passed the skin back gratefully. She offered me a hand and pulled me to my feet. I was mostly dry, the mid-morning sun high overhead. I winced as I stood.

  “You’ll have some nasty bruises, I’d wager, but my medic didn’t seem to think anything was broken.”

  “I need to get back to shore,” I realized aloud.

  She raised a brow at me. “Thank you, Natalia.” She turned from me and strode away across the deck. “You’re a wonder, Natalia.”

  I stumbled after her, grabbing her arm impatiently. “Yes, thank you, truly.” Tugging her around to face me, I met her tempest eyes. “But I need to get to Aduline.”

  Favoring me with a sympathetic smile, she gripped my bruised shoulder. I winced. “We’re on patrol. You may be a friend, but duty comes first. Until I can report back to the fleet, you’re stuck with us.”

  Natalia’s ship, Brizo’s Favor, was a stout frigate of no mean capability. Her crew was quick and precise, scrambling up and down the web of ropes with haste any time she shouted out an order. Most of it, I couldn’t understand, but it was clear she was well respected and admired by those who served under her. It was strange to see her silken hair in a tight plait with breeches and a sword on her hip, but she seemed well at ease. It did nothing to diminish her striking beauty, and I caught not a few eyes watching her with appreciation.

  The Favor’s patrol escort was a similar ship called the Crow’s Tail. Its deep hull cut the waves in tandem with ours a few hundred feet away. I tried to stay out of the way, watching the activity on deck without seeing it, my mind elsewhere as I worried about Will. Before I knew it, dusk had fallen and Natalia led me below deck. It was just as cramped as I remembered from my last foray aboard a tall ship, though her private quarters were comfortable, if no less claustrophobic. A relatively sizable bed took up most of the space, though there was a small mirror mounted to one wall, along with a table and single chair.

  “You’ll sleep here with me. Can’t have the lads thinking you’re fair game, now, can we?” she winked.

  “Doesn’t really matter anymore, does it?” I countered, unable to keep the bitterness from my voice as I sank down onto the plush mattress.

  She nodded and bit her tongue, all levity fleeing. “I’m sorry.”

  “How could he do it?” I asked, voice rough with betrayal.

  Tempest eyes considered me sadly. “We all made sacrifices. Adrian, most of all.”

  “Yes, his second round of sacrifice is coming along nicely,” I snarled, Vanessa’s swollen belly flashing in my mind.

  Natalia sat down carefully beside me. “Everything got worse after you disappeared. When the King recalled his galleons, my family was nearly imprisoned for it. We were fortunate my parents were in Litheria when he found out. It took all of my father’s good will to convince Amenon we had nothing to do with it.”

  Chastened, I dropped my eyes. “I thought we had more time.”

  She pressed on. “You were declared a traitor to the Crown, Elivya, arrested in full view of the public. And then you assassinated the King and fled, and no one has heard from you since. What did you expect him to do?”

  “I sent letters,” I countered feebly. “Tried to explain.”

  She shook her head. “They were never delivered.”

  “They were,” I insisted. “To the estate, most directly into your father’s hands. My men do not lie to me.”

  She nodded slowly, understanding flashing across her face. “Father.”

  I paled, realization hitting me. “He destroyed them.” My voice sounded hollow to my own ears.

  “I expect so. Adrian never received any word from you.”

  I laughed, then, desperate and bitter and hateful, tears streaming down my cheeks. She was a good friend, pulling me into her arms and holding me as I cursed the cruel and miserable path I had been reborn to walk.

  When I pulled away, she fixed me with those storm gray eyes once more, holding my hand in hers. “I don’t expect it would have done much but to make it harder on him. No matter how much he loved you, my brother belongs to his House and his people first. We were losing dozens every week. Vanessa’s father made an offer.”

  I nodded with a bit too much enthusiasm, wiping my face. “Ships.”

  “It is the only way we have held out this long.”

  “More than I could ever have offered him,” I admitted.

  She tilted her beautiful head at me. “You made him happy. That was offering enough.”

  I sniffled. “And his wife?”

  She smiled wickedly. “Not as much fun as you, certainly.” It made me smile, and she nudged me companionably. A hint of tenderness crept into her face. “But Adrian loves Micah, more than anything.”

  “The boy?” I pictured his dark locks and gray eyes in my mind.

  “He’s a good father.”

  “I’ve no doubt.” I wondered if I’d ever see them together. A part of me wanted to see him with his son, to know that something good, at least, had come out of my life, even if that good was due merely to my absence.

  We were five more days on the sea, circling back toward Petrion. In Natalia’s presence, I found something like understanding in her brother’s betrayal. It was far from forgiveness, and it still hurt, but I couldn’t deny that circumstances largely of my own making had led us to this point. I thought of Selice, then, lying in the dark as Natalia snored softly beside me.

  I do not need to forgive, to understand.

  Trusting her somewhat, but not willing to put her at risk, I told her of the events of the last two years, but nothing of our current plans. She knew I was holding something back but didn’t press me.

  Brizo’s Favor and the Crow’s Tail turned for the open water just as the Bay of Brothers came into view on the horizon. A half day out to sea, we dropped anchor near several other ships and I rode over on the dinghy with Natalia and a few of her officers. I followed them up the rope ladder as we clambered onto the deck.

  I heard him before I could see him, his silken voice greeting his sister with genuine enthusiasm. Hands were clasped and salutes offered as the officers in front of me made their obeisance to their commander. As they parted, he approached, holding out one hand as he made to greet me as one of his sailors. Distracted by the jostling, he didn’t look at me until I had grasped his forearm firmly.

  When he did turn and see me, I watched all the joy and ease drain from his face, replaced with surprise and guilt.

  There it is, I thought bitterly. There is the summary of my legacy on this earth. Guilt.

  “Elivya,” he breathed. My name on his lips no longer sent a shiver down my spine. That alone felt like a victory.

  “Hello, Adrian.” I held his gaze with determination, knowing that the sight of my own would unnerve him. Everything about me, I had realized in the days on the Favor, was different from the last time I’d seen him. My hair, my eyes, my scars, my soul. I was not the girl he’d left on the docks in Petrion. I would never be that girl again. The revelation had granted me calm and courage, a greater understanding of myself. I drew on both, then, as I stood before the man who would have been my husband. “Vanessa sends her regards,” I added, tilting my head at him.

  He had the grace to look ashamed and ushered us down into the wardroom to hear our report. Natalia and I followed. She caught my arm and gave me a reassuring sq
ueeze.

  His gray eyes stared at me, barely listening as his two captains gave their reports. When they’d finished, he thanked them absent-mindedly and asked them to leave us. I waited, unmoving in my chair, holding his gaze. The door closed with a click, and we were alone. A long silence stretched between us.

  “He looks like you,” I finally said.

  Adrian took a deep breath, leaning forward onto the table and reaching for me. I pulled my hand carefully out of range. His eyelids flickered with hurt, and he retreated.

  “I’m not here to torment you,” I pressed gently. “Gods know, neither of us ever expected for things to end up this way.”

  “I had to,” he said suddenly, face twisted with guilt. He opened his mouth to explain, but I cut him off.

  “I know.” Gray eyes searched mine desperately for forgiveness. I couldn’t give it, but I could understand. “We are beholden to our people, you and I. To the Houses of our blood.” Digging in my tunic, I grasped the sapphire ring on its chain and gave a sharp tug, breaking the fine metal links and tossing it onto the table between us. “I am a traitor and a murderer. The kingslayer of Lazerin. No proper wife for the Lord of Daria.”

  “I never believed their lies,” he protested.

  “You believed them enough not to come for me,” I pointed out, unable to keep the hard edge from my tone.

  “I’d no idea where you were, or if you even lived,” he defended brusquely. “Why would you not send word?”

  “I did. Many times.”

  I held his gaze firmly and watched as the bitter revelation dawned on his face, the same one I’d experienced only days before. I couldn’t help but pity him. I had loved him, once. A small part of me always would.

  “Letters or no, I am what they say,” I continued more gently. “Daria needed ships, and I am not the same woman you danced with at the Greyshor. She is gone.”

  He considered me a moment, my short hair and strange eyes, my stained and ragged tunic, the scar on my jaw. The truth of my words settled over him, burying his anger.

  “What happened to her?” he asked quietly.

  I thought of the pyre in the garden, three charred figures bound and burned, and answered with the simple, honest, awful truth.

  “She died.”

  Silence stretched between us, punctuated by the sounds of the waves slapping against the hull. I shifted in my seat, tired and heartsore and eager to be on my way.

  “I need safe passage to shore, and some coin if you can spare it. There are people waiting for me.”

  His eyes narrowed with a hint of jealousy. “Who?”

  “The Queen. Lord Oristei. Quintin.”

  “Your father’s Tuvrian?” he scoffed, almost laughing. “That scowling brute who haunted you like some miserable specter?”

  I bristled. “A man of honor and loyalty.”

  He nodded slowly, reading beneath my reaction. “I see. My mistake.”

  “Indeed,” I replied stiffly.

  One hand reached out and picked up the sapphire ring, turning it over in his fingers. The light filtering through the small window glinted off the silver. My temper subsided, watching him. I didn’t know what else to say.

  “Is there truly nothing left of her?” he finally asked, voice low.

  Somewhere, beneath the coiling beast in my chest and the hollow drive to press on, there were flickers yet of the joyful girl I once was. I had seen her in rare moments of calm and companionship at the manor, in the forest, and on the road. I hoped if I lived long enough, maybe once this was all over I could try to find her again, but that’s not what he needed to hear.

  “No,” I said firmly instead.

  I watched him let me go, the last glimmers of hope fading from his eyes. Resolved, he closed his hand on the ring and stood. “I’ll see you escorted safely to Petrion and outfitted for travel. I’d send you up the river if I thought it safe enough.”

  I heaved myself to my feet, bruises aching. “I’d rather ride.”

  He nodded. “Do me one favor, will you?” he pressed gently. “Stay at the inns. It isn’t safe for a woman alone on the road, especially at night.” I considered refusing, but there was sense in his caution, so I agreed. I needed his help to get back. There was no point in being contrary for the sake of spurning him.

  True to his word, he instructed Natalia and her escort to see me into the port at Petrion, with a day’s leave to resupply their ships and see me outfitted. Our final farewell on the deck was strangely formal.

  “For what it’s worth, I wish you luck.” He held out his hand to me.

  I grasped it solemnly. “And you.”

  When we tied off at the dock, Natalia and a few of her men escorted me discreetly down the wharf past numerous clusters of Persican soldiers, my conspicuous hair tucked into a short-brimmed cap borrowed from one of her crew. To my surprise, we made for the Van Dryn manor in the heart of the city. Standing in the foyer, I couldn’t help but feel a wave of nostalgia. Two years and more had gone by since I’d last set foot inside those walls. It felt infinitely longer, and I, immeasurably older. The chamberlain bowed crisply to Natalia, who handed off her satchel to him and called for baths to be drawn for us both.

  Sitting alone in the steaming copper tub, I reflected on what might have been my life, had things played out differently. There had been a time when I’d reveled in fantasies of silk gowns and storm eyes and dark-haired babes on my hip. Now, after everything, I was hard-pressed to reconcile that vision with the mess of self inside my skin.

  More than anything, I yearned to return to the forest, to bask in Selice’s golden beauty, to hear Izikiel’s sage advice, to sit around a fire listening to one of Will’s stories. I prayed he was still alive. And Quintin – ah, gods – there lay a labyrinth of love’s perfect ache, knotted and pulsing like a heartbeat in the darkness of my gut. I had locked it there for so long, since Tuvria and perhaps long before. Cracking the lid of it, just barely, it threatened to overwhelm what calm I’d managed to find in the wake of Adrian’s betrayal.

  The beast in my chest coiled and uncoiled. Leave it be. Focus on the task. Solomon’s face swam in my mind and I wondered where my path would lead.

  One long look in the mirror as I climbed from the tub reminded me just how unrecognizable I had become, even to my own unsettling eyes. The bruises from my fall had begun to mend, vast patches of purple fading to a sickly yellow hue. My sable hair had grown out barely past my shoulders, starting to reclaim a bit of its elegant wave. Lean from hard months behind me, I looked feral and hungry. Fingertips traced the twin scars on my ribs and pawed at the web of ruin on the once-silken skin of my back. I was something other, now, molded by necessity.

  With the day quickly waning, Natalia insisted I wait to set out until morning. She saw me well fed and well equipped, giving me my choice of the mounts in their small stable. I settled on a long-legged bay mare, inconspicuous but well-bred. Despite my discomfort, I slept deeply in the plush guest room, rising at dawn with purpose in my step.

  Clean and dressed in a fresh pair of breeches and tunic, I buckled my sword belt about my hips and tugged on my well-worn boots. Without my father’s dagger and my long-lost Freyjan shield, I felt less than myself. Without the sapphire ring around my neck, I felt more than. Bracing for the journey ahead, I left the Van Dryn manor one final time.

  My friend found me in the courtyard as I checked the last of my saddlebags, handing me the length of white silk, carefully folded.

  “This was wrapped around your arm when we pulled you from the water. I thought you might want it.” Her mouth twisted in a wry smirk. “A souvenir.”

  Taking it reverently from her, I ran the luminous fabric through my fingers. I’d assumed it lost in the fall, along with my bow and my brave stallion. “Thank you.” In my recounting to her, I’d glanced over the dead city and my cloaked rise from the ashes, telling her only that I had emerged unscathed from my own funeral pyre.

  Gray eyes considered me. “I wish
there was more I could do.”

  I shook my head. “You have your hands full here. Thank you for everything.”

  Pressing a pouch of coin into my hand, she smiled with genuine affection. “Despite everything, I would still count you a sister, if you’d have me.”

  “I’d like that,” I replied honestly.

  After one last embrace and a flash of her beautiful smile, I climbed into the saddle to set off. The road was a familiar one, traces of it dredged laboriously from my memory. I kept well off it, following carefully from my own path a few dozen yards away. When I spotted the first company of Persican guards searching a merchant caravan, I was thankful for my own precaution and ducked deeper into the trees to give them a wide berth. They were looking for something or someone, and I couldn’t help but imagine it was me.

  I kept my final word to Adrian and overnighted at the various inns along the way. Faces in the common rooms ranged from the dusky Persican soldiers to common Alesian merchants, and even a few minor lords here and there. I recognized no one, and no one recognized me as I devoured my dinner in one inconspicuous corner after the next before shutting myself in my rented rooms. To travel alone was dangerous for anyone, man or woman, and I checked the bolt on my door several times each night before lying down to sleep, my sword laid bare in arm’s reach by my bed. In the mornings, I woke at dawn and set off before the majority of the clientele had even begun to stir.

  For five days, I worked my way north toward Litheria. It was slow going, having to pick my own way through the trees and brush off the main road, but eventually, I reached a familiar landmark. The well and clearing of the crossroads swarmed with white armor, and I was glad I didn’t need to refill my water skin. Keeping a generous distance, I turned east to circle around on the far side of the Kingswood.

  I pushed my gentle mare a bit harder those last few days, the nearness of relative safety forcing a sense of urgency into my pace. I rode along the forest’s southeastern edge, scanning the open fields for signs of the Tuvrian legions. On the third day, just as I’d begun to despair, I crested a ridge to see a cloud of maroon banners clustered below in neat formation. Savern marched for the woods.