by Jayne Castel
Elias huffed a laugh. “I haven’t made any compromises as yet. I’ve agreed to the destruction of the leagueforts because it’s in our best interests. As for the rest … we shall see.” He continued to drum his fingers on the table. “My father has given me instructions on what he is willing to negotiate on.”
Another silence stretched out. Ryana shifted in her chair. They’d been here since shortly after breakfast; her backside was getting numb and her spine ached. She longed to stretch her legs and get out of this tension-filled chamber. This morning’s discussion had been exhausting.
Elias and Nathan might not have been facing each other on the battlefield, but this was combat of another kind. The two men had been dueling with words all morning. She’d hoped to find time for some training with Ninia, but these negotiations seemed endless.
Nathan pushed back his chair and rose to his feet, towering above the table. His brows knitted together as he fixed Elias with a baleful look. “I think that’s all for this morning.”
The prince nodded, his expression giving nothing away.
Nathan shifted his attention from Elias, his gaze sweeping across the tense faces of the others present. “Those of you of my personal council will meet me again here after the noon meal,” he announced, his tone brusque. “The rest of you may go.”
Ryana walked into the courtyard garden, entering the small space between beds of tulips, hyacinths, and crocuses. She inhaled their scent and slowed her step. Gleaming white walls rose up around them, and a fountain tinkled in the heart of the space: the statue of a water nymph standing beneath a waterfall. This was the prettiest of the palace’s many courtyard gardens and the one the queen favored.
Eldia wasn’t here this morning though.
Ryana shouldn’t really have been either—for these gardens were for the royal family’s enjoyment only—yet she wanted a few moments of solitude, before she returned to the House of Light and Darkness. The noon meal approached, and after that an afternoon in the Hall of Charms. An audience of folk from all over the kingdom awaited with problems to be remedied.
Letting out a gusting sigh, Ryana walked into the heart of the garden. After spending the morning in negotiations, she felt drained. She longed to take the rest of the day off. Ryana had spoken little during the morning; she was there mainly as an observer.
Ryana’s boots crunched on fine white gravel as she stopped before the fountain. She focused upon where the nubile nymph cavorted under a cascade.
To be that carefree.
“Interesting fountain … my mother has one similar in her pleasure garden.”
Ryana started. She whipped round, the fingers of her right hand automatically splaying as she prepared herself to gather the Dark.
Heart hammering, her gaze rested upon Elias of Anthor.
How had he managed to sneak up behind her? She should have heard his boots on the gravel.
Flustered, Ryana swallowed, hard. “Did you follow me?” Her voice sounded a little too high pitched.
“Aye,” he replied with a slow smile. “You walk like a soldier on parade, but I managed to keep up.”
Ryana frowned in an attempt to cover up her discomfort. “What do you want?”
He folded his arms across his broad chest, the enigmatic smile never slipping. However, she didn’t miss the appraising look in his eyes. She’d been keenly aware of Elias’s presence all morning during the council. He’d acknowledged her with a nod when she’d entered the chamber and had glanced over in her direction a few times during the meeting.
“We didn’t finish our conversation last night at the ball,” he said softly.
Ryana stiffened. She didn’t like the naked challenge she saw in his eyes. “Yes, we did,” she replied. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m leaving.”
She went to move past him, but he caught her arm, gently pulling her up short. The feel of his powerful grip, the heat of his hand even through the sleeve of her robe, made Ryana’s pulse quicken. Suppressing the urge to yank her arm away, she met his gaze.
Elias wasn’t smiling now. When his face was serious, the lines were harsher, reminding Ryana that he was a military commander—a man who’d slaughtered hundreds in the name of Anthor. The air of danger around him made her skin prickle.
“You did well this morning,” she said, cursing the slight edge to her voice. “You must be feeling smug right now?”
He raised a dark eyebrow. “Why is that?”
“Nathan looked like he wanted to stab you through the heart the whole time … and yet he still negotiated with you.”
Elias huffed a laugh. “Just as well … we won’t get anywhere otherwise.”
Their gazes locked then. Ryana was standing so close to him that she could see the color of his eyes. From a distance they appeared dark brown, almost black. But this close she saw that the irises were flecked with different shades of brown: walnut, mahogany, and hazel.
Elias’s mouth curved. “So, you still suspect me of foul intent, Ryana?”
Shadows take him, she liked the way he said her name. The southern lilt in his voice made it sound exotic. Compressing her lips, Ryana forced herself to focus. “Aye … and I’m not the only one.”
He let go of her arm but didn’t step away. Likewise, Ryana didn’t move. Something held her in place. They were standing so near to each other she could feel the heat of his body enveloping her. She resisted the urge to lean in toward him.
It was an intimate spot here, in the heart of the garden, accompanied by the tinkle of rushing water. A meeting place for lovers.
“Will you be joining us this afternoon?” Elias asked finally.
Ryana shook her head. “I’m not on the king’s personal council … but Asher is.”
Elias pulled a face. “Your friend glared at me the whole way through this morning’s meeting. I don’t think he’s forgiven me for what happened in The Forest of the Fallen.”
“Aye … for good reason,” Ryana replied with a frown. “Is arrogance an Anthor trait or are the men in your family particularly blessed?”
Elias laughed, a low, pleasant sound. However, when his gaze met hers, it was serious. “You don’t have to like me, Ryana.” His tone was gentle, beguiling. “But believe it or not, we both want the same thing.”
“And what’s that?”
“Peace. I’d rather our kingdoms didn’t go to war.”
Ryana drew in a sharp breath and took a smart step back from him. Cool air rushed in between them, breaking the spell he’d cast over her. “We don’t want the same thing,” she said, her tone icy. “I, for one, would love to see Nathan take his army south and knock your father off the Swallow Throne.”
Elias watched the enchanter stalk from the garden. Not hampered by long skirts today, she was able to stride out. Unlike the night before, her present attire didn’t show off her ample cleavage. However, it did reveal her long, shapely legs.
Turning back to the fountain, his gaze rested upon the cavorting nymph and the look of ecstasy on its face.
He enjoyed sparring with Ryana. He hadn’t liked seeing the glint of victory in her eyes the evening before, and had been hoping to get his revenge. But, just like at the ball, she’d managed to get the last word.
He hadn’t followed her to the garden to goad her.
Ryana of the Dark had a high position in the Order, higher than he’d realized last night, and as such she was dangerous. He knew he’d do well to get the woman onside, to win her trust. Perhaps he could even use her to get close to Ninia.
Inhaling the scent of spring bulbs, Elias turned from the fountain and began walking back toward the entrance. Such machinations would have to wait for another day; a long afternoon of negotiations stretched before him.
The morning had gone well. Elias had enjoyed the cut and thrust of it. He hadn’t minded that everyone in the council chamber had watched him with hard, suspicious gazes.
Nathan had seethed the entire time, yet he’d still negotiated. Elias had be
en surprised to discover that he and Nathan thought along similar lines. Elias had negotiated for things that he would want were he king of Anthor. His father had given him little direction, so he made up the rules himself.
Part of him was impatient to see his mission through, but nonetheless Elias found he liked the game of politics and diplomacy. This was the first time this role had ever been thrust upon him, for the last decade had been spent captaining his father’s army. All his life he’d been a warrior. Now he had the chance to excel in other areas.
This morning he’d been able to focus on negotiating peace, to distract himself from his real purpose.
But Ninia has to die, a voice needled him. The longer you wait, the harder it’ll be.
Elias cursed his father for making him do this. It had been easy during his first mission to track Ninia down in Thûn, for he hadn’t known her then. She’d just been a faceless target that needed to be eliminated.
Then Ninia had spared his life and that complicated matters.
Elias didn’t think of himself as a man with a conscience—but last night, after the ball, he’d lain awake until the first blush of dawn lightened the eastern sky.
On the journey here, he’d told himself that he’d find a way to survive this mission. Yet he realized now that unless he cornered Ninia alone, that was unlikely. When he struck, he’d have to be ready to fall. And since he’d be killing a woman who’d spared his own life out of kindness, there was a part of him that wondered if that wasn’t for the best.
Did such a man deserve to live?
It had to be done, even if it cost him dearly.
A chill settled in the pit of his belly at the thought.
6
Steel is Steel
ELIAS TOOK A seat at the banquet table, opposite Ninia. “Good evening, princess.”
Meeting his eye, she favored him with a polite smile.
Elias returned the smile. Four days had passed since his arrival at The Royal City, and he hadn’t seen the princess since the ball. However, once a week the king and queen invited Ninia to dine with them. And, tonight, they’d extended the invitation to Elias as well.
Elias had been pleased to accept—this was the opportunity he needed to get close to the princess.
Tonight could be his chance to complete his mission.
His senses sharpened at the thought, and he was keenly aware of the knife in his boot, awaiting its chance to draw blood.
He needed to get this done.
The negotiations proceeded well, but with each passing day, Elias grew tenser. He had only one true purpose in this city—and he felt as if he was letting himself get drawn away from it.
He’d hoped to see Ryana again, to use her to get closer to the princess. Yet the Head of the Dark hadn’t attended any more of the negotiations. Elias wondered if she was deliberately keeping away.
It mattered not, for tonight Nathan had brought Ninia to him.
“I thought it right that members of the royal houses of Rithmar, Anthor, and Thûn took supper together at least once during your visit,” Nathan announced from one end of the table, holding his goblet aloft.
Elias resisted the urge to frown. He was tempted to remind Nathan that the house of Thûn no longer existed. Their gazes met, and Elias caught the gleam in Nathan’s eye; the king was deliberately goading him.
Taking her seat at one end of the table with a rustle of damask skirts, the queen gave Elias a warm smile. “The king tells me that the negotiations proceed well.”
“Aye, Your Highness.” Elias raised his own goblet to Eldia. “It looks like our kingdoms will soon be firm allies.”
Elias flicked his attention back to Nathan and saw him tense.
A smile curved Elias’s lips. Two could play at this game.
They were taking supper in the royal banquet chamber, a relatively intimate space compared to the huge banquet hall downstairs. Located on the upper levels of the palace, the room had tear-drop shaped windows that were open to the elements tonight. A cool highland breeze wafted in, as did the scent of woodsmoke from the fires of the city below. However, two hearths burned at opposite ends of the banquet chamber, keeping its four occupants warm.
Oblivious to the frown that now furrowed her husband’s brow, the queen cast Elias an appraising look. She was a pretty woman of fragile, almost ethereal, beauty. And yet, Elias caught the glint in her eye that spoke of a strong will and playful edge. “That is good news indeed,” she murmured.
Servants entered the chamber, circling the table with ewers of wine and platters of quail roasted in white wine and butter—the first dish of the evening.
Taking a sip of wine, Elias glanced once more over at Ninia. The princess wasn’t looking his way. Instead, she kept her gaze firmly on the quail she was dissecting.
“How goes life in the House of Light and Darkness, Ninia?” Nathan asked when they were halfway through their quail.
Ninia glanced up and smiled. “Very well, thank you. I had my initiation rite yesterday.”
To prove it, she put down her knife and turned her hands over, revealing eight-pointed stars tattooed on each palm. The one on the left was inked completely black, while the star on the right was not. The skin around both stars was slightly reddened and swollen.
“That looks sore,” the queen observed with a delicate wince. “Do you need to see our healer?”
“Asher has already attended me,” Ninia assured Eldia. “It doesn’t hurt.”
Nathan swirled his goblet of wine, his expression veiled, before he shifted his attention to Elias. “An enchanter who wields both the Light and the Dark,” he mused. “Surely that makes Reoul a bit nervous?”
Elias huffed. “Not really.”
“Not only that, but she’s also the heir to the Swallow Throne,” the king added.
Elias put down the knife he’d been using to slice his quail. Nathan was making a point it seemed—Ryana wasn’t the only one who suspected Elias of still wishing Ninia harm.
Days of negotiations had started to stretch Nathan’s patience. Tonight, the king had an agenda. Elias would need to be wary of him.
“The Swallow Throne belongs to my father now,” Elias reminded him.
Nathan’s mouth twisted. “Blood is blood.”
“And steel is steel,” Elias countered. “The strong conquer the weak. It’s the way of things.”
A tense silence settled upon the table. The queen’s delicate face drew taut, while Nathan’s expression darkened.
Across the table, Ninia watched Elias, her gaze narrowing. “Did you kill my family?” she asked, her voice low.
The directness of the girl’s question threw Elias. This was the last thing he wanted to discuss, yet he understood why she’d want to know. “Not personally, no,” he replied, meeting her eye. “My father took The Swallow Keep, while I secured the city. By the time I entered the palace, your family were all dead.”
It was the truth.
Ninia held his gaze. “Where did it happen?”
“Ninia,” Eldia interjected softly. “Perhaps, it’s best not to—”
Ninia ignored the queen. “Where did Reoul slaughter my mother, father, and brothers?”
“In the throne room,” Elias replied. “They made their last stand there, surrounded by The Swallow Guard.”
Ninia’s throat bobbed, her hazel eyes glistening. Observing her, Elias felt an unexpected pang of sympathy—and respect. The young woman’s self-possession was admirable. Inhaling deeply, she reached for her goblet of wine and took a large gulp.
“The people of Thûn will never accept your father as their ruler.” Nathan spoke up, shattering the tension. The king leaned back on his chair now, his expression inscrutable as he watched Elias. “I hear half of Veldoras starves so his army can eat. He’ll only ever be a dictator to them.”
The doors to the banquet chamber swung open then and servants entered. They brought the main course to the table: a rich boar stew accompanied by a selection of bre
ads and steamed vegetables.
Elias let out a deep exhale. It was a welcome reprieve.
The aroma of the gamey stew drifted across the table, reminding Elias of Santino and his dislike for the heavy northern dishes. Elias wasn’t quite as fussy. After years of campaigning, he ate whatever was placed before him.
He helped himself to more food, aware that the mood at the table had now shifted. Ninia had been smiling earlier, yet her gaze was shadowed now. The queen had gone pale, and Nathan watched him like a stalking wolf.
Ignoring the king, Elias focused his attention on Ninia. He had to be careful with her, and he didn’t want Nathan ruining his chances of getting close to her. “War is brutal,” he said, keeping his voice low. “I wish there had been another way to take Veldoras.”
Ninia’s mouth thinned. “Like you said, the strong conquer the weak.”
Elias reached for a piece of bread. “Unfortunately … that’s the way of it.”
“And yet, here you are … the son of a dictator working for peace.” Nathan’s voice rumbled across the chamber. “Doesn’t that strike you as ironic?”
Elias leaned back in his chair, meeting Nathan’s eye once more. He realized now why the king had invited him to supper. It hadn’t been a gesture of warm Rithmar hospitality—despite the fact that the negotiations were progressing well, Nathan was still suspicious of his Anthor guest. He was trying to corner Elias, to get him to reveal his hand.
However, Nathan had just unwittingly given Elias the opportunity to change the subject. Eagerly, he took it. “Enough blood has been spilled,” he replied, holding the king’s gaze. “Until now, I’ve dedicated my life to war. But it can’t go on … eventually there must be peace if we are all to prosper. I want a different future for the people of our kingdoms.”
The rest of the supper passed slowly, the atmosphere so tense that you could have cut the air with a blade.
Nathan continued to make pointed comments, veiled under casual observations. Elias continued to let them slide. He wouldn’t give the king what he wanted. Nathan was wasting his time.
