Harrowed Heir
Page 3
Jax’s cheeks reddened; George was still within earshot of their conversation. “We will be together again soon enough,” she simply replied, somewhat annoyed with Perry’s crassness.
Yet, George gave no indication that he had heard Perry’s suggestive words as he led the way down to the foyer of the military fortress. Perry’s pained strides were no match for the Captain of the Ducal Guard’s strong gait, and they fell further and further behind. Whether this had been intentional on George’s part to give them total privacy, as they would have none in the upcoming days, she did not know. Perhaps, he simply wanted to be out of their presence. She had been all too eager to leave Ziri and George behind to their military discussions. Their flirtatious banter often created an unwanted, suffocating weight inside her chest.
“I know you are worried about me, Jax.” Perry’s sigh pried her attention back to him. “But I’ll be fine. I wouldn’t ride home to Pettraud if I didn’t think I could handle it.” He stopped in the dark hallway, stacks of old stone their only company. “I would never do anything to jeopardize returning to your side.”
Jax assessed her husband and saw determination shining in his lavender eyes. While she understood his desperate need to return to Pettraud, she could not dismiss her own well of worry so easily. “Virtues watch over you, my love.” With three fingers, she stroked his cheek, her touch trailing down his strong jaw and neck. “We will be reunited soon.” She tried to sound confident in such a future, even if fear for her husband’s health sent her emotions spiraling.
Perry intercepted her hand and kissed her middle three fingers, still frighteningly warm from the heat radiating off his feverish skin.
‡
Her concerned gaze did not leave her husband’s figure as two Saphirian guards assisted him up onto the back of his steed.
“I take it Duke Pettraud shot down your suggestion that he ride in a coach?” a feminine purr commented from her right.
“He dismissed it immediately. He told me he’s already wasted enough time in the infirmary and cannot afford any further delays.” Jax addressed Ziri Axesinger’s question without tearing her focus from Perry. “He also pointed out that if I was healthy enough to ride on horseback, then he was, too.”
“And are you healthy enough to ride, Duquessa?”
At that, Jax turned to face the former acolyte with a resigned sigh. “I have to be. Our journey south will take half the time if we take the horses.”
Ziri’s bronze gaze warily eyed Jax’s scar. “I understand your urgency, Duquessa, and I know it would be fruitless to persuade you to do otherwise.” Her velvety tone dropped to a whisper. “Just let me know if you need help commanding your stallion at any point.” Her beautiful features dripped with devoted conviction.
Ziri’s covert offer to ride with Jax should she become tired or overwhelmed touched her. “I’m sure babysitting me isn’t what you had in mind when you accepted my proposition.”
Ziri gave her a crooked grin. “Please. In addition to being your court spymaster, I’ve also given myself the unofficial title of your personal bodyguard.”
“Don’t you mean spymistress?” Jax raised a teasing eyebrow.
Ziri batted the idea away with a hand. “Semantics. My responsibilities are that of a spymaster, so why should I be called anything else?”
Jax admired Ziri’s nonchalant courage when it came to knocking down the barriers that had historically restricted female roles. As the first female to join the Knights of Grace, a legendary group of warriors that fought for justice on behalf of the Virtues, Ziri was no stranger to the challenges women in power often faced. “Then I thank you, dear spymaster, for your understanding. All I ask is that if you notice me slowing our pace, that you hop atop Mortimer, even if I should protest.”
“Can I get that in writing?” Ziri chuckled before doing a doubletake. “Did you say Mortimer? Wasn’t that your Crepstian stallion that bolted during the battle?”
A swell of warm gratitude rose within Jax. “The Virtues led him back to me.”
Ziri let out a low, impressed whistle as her dark eyes scanned the scene around them. The Ducal Guard hoisted themselves atop armored horses, ready to depart the safe confines of Fort Uhstal. Jax followed her spymaster’s gaze, her amethyst eyes settling on Ivan Pettraud’s wrapped form. His body had been placed on a lightweight gurney, specially crafted by the garrison’s blacksmiths and carpenters, and would be secured to the backs of two horses. When Perry had finally awakened from his medically induced slumber once the worst had passed, he had ordered the fastest mode of transport for his brother’s body, and the craftsmen had complied.
The bodies of the deceased sovereigns had been sent back to their duchies with more ceremonial flourish, and while Jax had offered the same processional for her brother-in-law, Perry turned down the pageantry, stating his brother would receive a proper Pettraud burial once his body was brought back home.
A burial for which she would not be in attendance.
Jax prayed the contraption would allow Perry quick and safe passage to Pettraud. He’d be accompanied by the over fifty members of the Saphire and Cetachi Ducal Guards who had been stationed at Fort Uhstal during the War Council under the orders of herself and Duke Darian Fangard.
Her uncle approached now, his steps hurried. “Thank goodness you’re still here.” He sounded breathless. “The courier made it sound like you were nearly halfway out the gate.”
While the last of their belongings were loaded, Jax had sent one of Uhstal’s couriers to find her uncle and let him know they were preparing to depart. “I wouldn’t leave without saying goodbye.” She met Darian halfway and gave him a kiss on the cheek.
Uneasiness still tinged his handsome features. “I know that. I…I just wanted to do this under different circumstances.”
“Do what?” Jax wrinkled her nose in confusion.
Darian surveyed the restless crowd, as her Ducal Guard escorts were saddled and ready to depart. “May we speak in private a moment, my dear?”
Curious as to what her uncle, the Duke of Cetachi, had to say, Jax caught George’s attention and moved toward his mount. “I need a few minutes to speak with Darian. Perhaps our delegations can get underway and Ziri and I will ride to catch up?”
Perry edged his own horse forward, catching only the last bit of the conversation.
George stroked his chin and gazed across the gathered troops. “I’ve already sent a squadron out to scout our route, and they’ve given us the all-clear.” He leaned in his saddle to confer with another officer mounted next to him. Straightening, he nodded to Jax. “We’ll send the archers and shieldmen out to get the group moving. Once they have fortified a barrier, the Pettraud and Saphire delegations will follow.” His chocolate gaze slid to Ziri. “Don’t dally too long.”
Perry sputtered, an incredulous look on his face. “George! You’re going to let Jax remain behind unprotected?”
A flurry of annoyance skidded across Ziri’s features. “The Duquessa will not be left unprotected, Duke Pettraud.” For emphasis, she stroked the hilt of one of the long swords strapped to her back.
George responded in a more level-headed fashion. “It’s actually safer to have Jax follow behind upon our initial departure, in case our delegation is walking into some trap laid by Savant and his remaining minions.”
Perry seemed to grapple for something more to say. His horse danced nervously across the snowy ground, imitating her rider’s frustrated state.
With soothing coos of reassurance, Jax stroked the disgruntled mare’s mane, calming her down with the expertise of a seasoned rider. Once the horse stilled, she reached for her husband’s hand. “I will be fine.”
Perry glanced down from atop his saddle, his expression clearly pained, and Jax suspected not just from his wound.
A mean-spirited thought flashed through her mind. Would Perry be this concerned if she were under the protection of a male warrior? George’s faith that Ziri was ample protection for
the Duchess of Saphire should have been enough to satisfy Perry, as George would never purposefully allow her to be left in harm’s way. In the past, her husband had let gender bias cloud his judgment when it came to Ziri Axesinger, and she feared he had fallen back into old bad habits.
Perry’s shoulders sagged, apparently having given up trying to find another objection. “Please hurry and catch up with us. Having you in my sight will make me feel much better.”
Knowing his concern came from a place of good, Jax kissed the back of his hand. “I’m sure that in the time it has taken for us to come to an agreement, Darian could have already told me what he wanted to share in the first place.”
Chuckling, Perry looked to George for direction. “Lead on, Captain.”
George dipped his chin in understanding before issuing a loud, piercing whistle. “Soldiers! Travel formation. Archers and shieldmen to the front. Ready for departure!”
As the Ducal Guard shifted into position and flowed through the open gates of Fort Uhstal, George glanced down at Jax. “I second Perry’s sentiments. Make sure to report in once you’ve caught up with us.” With that, he urged his mount forward and disappeared into the sea of soldiers.
Jax patted Perry’s mare, silently urging her husband to follow. She’d privately tasked George with keeping an eye on Perry and given orders to assign a guard to ride with him, ready to take over should Perry show signs of fatigue.
“Be careful, Jax.” Perry’s lavender gaze was hard and severe.
Before she could assure him once more, Perry clicked his tongue and his mare sprang forward, quickly trotting in step with the horses carrying Ivan’s body.
Backing away from the formidable scene of armed warriors, ready to face whatever challenges lay ahead, Jax met her uncle at the bench under the branches of a bare poplar tree in the courtyard. “I must catch up with the delegation soon, but I’ve bought us a little privacy.” Or what privacy I’m allowed, she noted as she sat down next to Darian, spying Ziri’s lithe, watchful figure across the courtyard, propped against the trunk of an old oak.
Her uncle ran a hand through his dark brown hair, the color nearly matching his eyes. The son of a baker, Darian had been the first Duke in the realm to be appointed to a throne who had not been born of a legendary royal bloodline. His radical ideas about governing democratically had changed Jax’s view of the world forever. “I realize there may be a better time and place to do this, but I’ve just had some news from home that puts things into a new perspective.”
Jax felt the breath leave her lungs. “Is everything all right? Is Annette safe?” Darian was married to her dear aunt, who had been a sister to Jax’s late mother, Amaryllis.
“Everything is fine.” Darian chuckled, patting her forearm to hastily reassure her. “More than fine, really.” His dark eyes sparkled with joy and hope. “I’ve had word from your aunt that I am to be a father.”
Jax’s initial panic burst into pure elation. “Oh, Darian! What wonderful news!” She threw her arms around him and hugged him tightly.
Darian wiped a happy tear from his eye. “Annette wrote that she had her suspicions before I left for the War Council, but she didn’t want to worry me.” He shook his head, still appearing to be in a stage of disbelief.
Jax silently thanked her aunt for her clever foresight. Darian had enough to worry about while hosting the realm’s leaders during the War Council. Adding the birth of his first child to those concerns could have spelled even more trouble for their peaceful attempts at negotiating a truce.
As delighted as she was by the news that she was going to have another young cousin, Jax didn’t understand why Darian felt it warranted the shroud of privacy he’d requested. “Did Annette send word of anything else? Is everything all right throughout the region?” She sensed there was something more to his request to speak with her alone.
“There is another matter I wish to discuss.” Darian fidgeted with his thumbs, clearly struggling with what he was about to say. News of Annette’s pregnancy seemed to have aged him more than the horrors they had survived during the War Council. Flecks of silver mingled in his dark brown hair, and although he still cut a striking profile, he appeared tired and deflated. “I need to speak with you about the future of Cetachi and my role as its leader.”
Jax’s eyes widened, not expecting such a radical change in topic.
“With the arrival of Annette’s happy news, I suddenly realized my son or daughter will become heir to Cetachi’s throne.” Darian’s dark gaze met hers. “When I set out on my quest to bring democracy to my people, I agreed to assume the title of Duke, as it would elevate my influence throughout the realm and allow me to continue promoting my beliefs.” His brow furrowed. “But I only assumed the role because my people had elected for my leadership in the first place.”
Jax nodded, patiently waiting for her uncle to continue.
“I never thought I’d become a father,” Darian admitted. “I thought your lovely aunt would tire of me and return to Mensina. I never expected to earn her love as deeply as she has won mine.” His features softened as he mentioned his wife. “And now, with our child on the way, it has forced me to reevaluate my entire future…Cetachi’s entire future.”
Jax took Darian’s restless hands in hers.
“I do not want my son or daughter to be the heir apparent to Cetachi’s throne,” he declared. “I want them to be able to choose whatever life they see fit. I don’t want them to feel tied to a crushing duty, forced to push their personal feelings aside for the sake of their duchy.”
Jax knew only too well of such sacrifice. How her heart desired to be by Perry’s side, yet her duty required her to travel to Hestes. There were so many decisions in life she had made based on duty…she wondered where and who she would be without the phantom burden of the Crown.
Darian’s expression hardened. “I chose this role for myself. I chose it because I wanted to lead my people into a better future. But I do not want my child to be forced to live in the shadow of his or her father.” Slipping his hands out from Jax’s grasp, he reached into the pocket of his cloak and pulled out a sealed scroll. “Which is why I have drafted a declaration transferring my duchy’s holdings to you, Jacqueline, under the condition that you allow me to resume my post as Cetachi’s elected governor, or whatever governing equivalent you deem appropriate.” He placed the rolled parchment in Jax’s trembling hands.
Her stunned thoughts swam with a hundred questions, but she could only summon one word. “Me?”
Darian chuckled. “Your work across Saphire and Isla DeLacqua has not gone unnoticed. You are building a new model of democracy, allowing your people to elect village premiers to serve as their leaders. Why, you’ve even implemented a regional leader, or so I’ve heard. A Governor Royale, isn’t it? A bit fancier title than plain old Governor.”
Jax nodded mutely.
“You’re bringing to life what I could only dream of doing. I want Cetachi to be remembered for championing this movement. I don’t want to be known in the annals of history as the common-born man who launched a ducal reign. I want to be the man who helped bring democracy to the realm, and I cannot rightly do that while sitting atop a throne.” He managed a bashful grin. “No offense to your position, Your Grace.”
Jax stared at the paper in her shaking hands. Another piece to the puzzle. With Cetachi under her command, she was one step closer to bringing about her dream for a united realm. She intended for every one of her holdings to be run by an elected board of premiers who operated under the guidance of an elected Governor Royale. Each duchy’s Governor Royale would then sit on a continental council to ensure that every duchy was being managed in a just and prosperous manner, funded by one treasury so that none went without…a council which she would oversee as Queen.
“Darian,” she finally said, slowly and deliberately. “I don’t think you’re in your right mind. Annette’s happy announcement has rattled your brain. I cannot accept such a gift.”
Jax felt the true weight of his words. So many people were depending on her to right the wrongs in the world. She thought of the common-born, of the low-born nobles, of the persecuted practitioners of the Ancient Faith. They, and so many others she’d met during her travels, were counting on her to make the world a better, fairer place.
I ask the Virtues to give me the strength to do it.
Darian rose from the bench and placed a hand on her shoulder, as if physically transferring his power as Cetachi’s Duke to her. “I know you have a great many matters to deal with, so I will hold off on announcing my formal resignation as Duke until I hear word from you that it’s time. I’m sure the Cetachi people would be thrilled to have you tour the north when you have a moment’s peace.”
Feeling slightly overwhelmed, a snort of disbelief escaped her lips. “A moment’s peace? Governor Royale Fangard, in that case you may be waiting a long time.” She stood and met her uncle’s gaze head-on. “My first order of business once I reach Hestes will be to send word to Jaquobie and establish Cetachi as a member of the Unity Fund.” The Unity Fund was the name she’d given to the sole treasury from which all her holdings operated and to which taxes were paid. Hestes, Crepsta, Kwatalar, and now Cetachi, would soon join Isla DeLacqua and Saphire, once her tour of the continent was complete. “Once funding is all straightened out, then we can deal with title transfers and the like.” It all sounded so simple, coming out of her mouth.