Harrowed Heir

by Sarah E. Burr

  Her sing-song tone had a foreboding ring to it. Jax struggled to keep her neutral mask in place, but she was becoming increasingly uncomfortable in the powerful woman’s presence.

  “My reference was on his desk within a week’s time, and by the next, I had taken my oath to serve the Hestian court.”

  Reference? Jax swallowed her brewing anxiety. Had Savant inserted a spy into Florian’s court to make sure he toed the line?

  Dellathorne frowned. “I can see from the look on your face that you find my appointment unsettling, which I must say leaves me a bit confused myself. My uncle thought you would be pleased with this masterful act of subterfuge.”

  Jax’s unease morphed into bewilderment. Uncle? “Just who exactly is your uncle, High Courtier?”

  Dellathorne wrinkled her nose. “Why, Uncle Henrik, of course.”

  “Henrik?” Jax repeated, stunned to hear the name on her lips. But as her analytical mind overcame her shock, Jax noticed for the first time the striking similarity Dellathorne bore to Henrik Crepsta’s late wife.

  Dellathorne bobbed her head. “Yes. I’ve long studied to be a High Courtier and serve the Crepstian court, however, Uncle Henrik asked that I take up the mantle here as a favor to him and the Crown. My uncle feared that Florian was no longer in his right mind after the deaths of his children, and Hestes needed a strong hand to guide it during these tumultuous times. Then we learned Duke Hestes had decided to side with the Coalition of Right.” Dellathorne’s expression darkened. “The Coalition threatened to tear the entire realm apart, and yet, Duke Hestes refused to see reason. My uncle confided in me about the extent of Savant’s scheme to manipulate Florian and Duchess Amyra of Kwalatar, so we took it upon ourselves to hatch a plan to stop them. We could not allow the Coalition victory, for the sake of Hestes, Crepsta, and the entire realm.”

  Understanding and hope began to dawn on Jax. “You were in on Henrik’s plan to gain control of Hestes and Kwatalar from the start.”

  Dellathorne’s features tightened with sadness. “I will not lie to you, Duchess. I had hoped that my uncle would be the one I welcomed into Hestes after the conclusion of the War Council. I knew he hadn’t been feeling well of late, but I didn’t realize the magnitude of his illness.”

  “If you expected your uncle to be named in the Code of Succession for Hestes,” Jax spoke cautiously, “then why did you so warmly welcome me into the city?”

  “Before he rode to Cetachi, my uncle and I met in secret,” Dellathorne explained. “Duke Florian’s behavior only grew more erratic in the weeks leading up to the summit, and I worried he would turn on my uncle, just as he planned to do to Duchess Amyra. Uncle Henrik reassured me that he had already taken precautions against our plan going awry. He told me not to fret. ‘The rightful leader of Hestes will arrive at its gates,’” she said, mimicking her uncle’s papery dry voice. “’The Virtues will see to it, my dear.’” Dellathorne then dropped her gaze to the floor, but not before Jax caught tears pooling in her amber eyes. “My uncle always held you in such high regard, Your Grace. When I received word that you wanted an audience with the royal court of Hestes, I just knew my uncle had fallen and that he had selected you to lead in his stead.”

  Jax’s throat constricted with sorrow as she processed yet another layer to Henrik Crepsta’s ultimate plan to secure the prosperity of the realm. “Your uncle died protecting his people from the foul regime promoted by the Coalition of Right. He died a hero, Dellathorne.” While she did not reveal the darker outcomes of Henrik’s deeds, she spoke the truth.

  The High Courtier wiped away a traitorous tear. “The funeral procession you sent down...the water lilies…It was very kind of you to show Duke Hestes such respect, especially after his deceit.”

  Jax smiled softly, glad her soldiers had adhered to her orders and wreathed Florian’s body in water lilies once they approached Lamartre. It was the flower of Hestes, a symbol of the royal court. “I wanted to honor Florian as I knew him, not as the man he had become.”

  Dellathorne glanced away, her gaze sweeping across the myriad of flora in the conservatory. “How did Florian perish? My uncle…"

  Jax’s expression hardened. She knew what Dellathorne had left unspoken. Henrik had originally planned to take Florian’s life himself, but the Virtues had intervened. In a fit of maniacal madness, Florian murdered the Duchess of Kwatalar and had tried to kill Henrik, only to be fatally wounded during the process. Florian’s rash, violent actions had allowed Henrik to keep hold of his own morality. “Duke Hestes died a murderer and a coward.” She tried to summon the pity she had once felt for the man who had suffered a devastating personal loss. She could not muster that pity today, knowing just how close the Coalition had been to victory.

  Dellathorne shook her head. “Despite his actions, I hope Florian is at peace now. He wasn’t always a lost soul. His people miss him greatly.”

  Her words softened Jax’s bristled exterior. “You’re right, High Courtier. For many years, Florian served his people admirably. I only hope I can win their trust.”

  “You shall, in due time, Duchess.” Dellathorne gave her a small smile. “Saphire has always been an ally of Hestes, at least in the eyes of the public. Florian never made his plans to side with the Coalition known outside his advisory council.”

  “And you think I should keep the truth from them?” Jax asked, wanting the woman’s honest opinion.

  A contemplative frown enveloped Dellathorne’s face. “I’ve been debating this dilemma for quite some time, ever since I found out Florian had sided with the Coalition of Right.” She straightened her shoulders. “I do think the public deserves to know the truth. From what Uncle Henrik has told me of your new democratic system in Saphire, if that way of life is to flourish within Hestes, the people need to be informed. They need to be trusted, like you, in turn, ask them to trust you.”

  Jax agreed with the High Courtier, although she did not relish tarnishing the Hestian people’s view of their beloved leader. Their rage might just backfire, causing a revolt against her rule. “Then the truth shall be told,” she instructed, and Dellathorne bowed her head. To George, Jax said, “The story behind Duke Florian’s demise cannot be shared without mentioning the fate of Duchess Kwatalar. While I had hoped to avoid any use of our armed forces, which might be interpreted as invading, I do need a faction of the Ducal Guard moved to Kwatalar. They’ll be needed to deal with any unrest, once news travels north that I, too, am Kwatalar’s new sovereign by right of the Code of Succession.”

  George bowed his head. “I’ll send a crowned falcon to Vice-Admiral Hightower today to organize their deployment. We will have them in the duchy by the end of the week.”

  Jax breathed a sigh of relief. Hightower was more than capable of overseeing such measures without George to assist. Due to his own stubbornness and shame over losing an arm in battle, Archibald Hightower had long served the Ducal Guard as a Corporal, although his skill and wisdom warranted a much higher rank. He had turned down any promotion offered to him until he learned of a war brewing across the realm. Before Jax and George departed for the War Council, Hightower had accepted the promotion to Vice-Admiral of the Saphirian armed forces, stating he could not forsake Saphire in her hour of need.

  Dellathorne clasped her hands as she rose. “Then I will begin making preparations for your coronation gala, Your Grace. We should be able to have everything arranged by the end of the week, as well.”

  Jax waved a hand. “I do not wish to suffer through the pomp and circumstance of ascension a second time. I will make my claim in front of the Hestian people, and we shall be done with it.”

  Dellathorne bit her lower lip. “Wouldn’t a banquet for the people be a welcomed treat after such news?”

  Heat boiled under Jax’s cheeks. Here I am, thinking only about myself. “Of course, a celebratory banquet for the people is in order.” Weariness began to tug at her eyelids, but she had other concerns to deal with. “What about Florian’s interment?
Has he already been laid to rest?”

  “The entire capital witnessed his funeral procession when your guards arrived with the Duke’s body last week.” Dellathorne sighed. “I led a lament that evening in the city square, as is the custom when a member of the royal family dies. Florian was placed in his family’s ancestral tomb at dawn the next day in a private service.”

  Jax gave the High Courtier a grateful smile. “I’m glad there has been time to mourn his passing. It seems you have everything in order. I will leave the coronation preparations in your capable hands for now, Dellathorne. I am in dire need of some rest.” She rose from the comforts of her chair and glanced around the conservatory. “Might I have an escort to my rooms?”

  With a snap of her fingers, Dellathorne summoned a palace steward. “I shall update you on my progress in the morning, Your Grace.”

  As Jax and her companions were escorted from the conservatory, she paused at the threshold and turned to Dellathorne. “I assume you have heard of the newly elected Governor Royale of Isla DeLacqua?”

  Dellathorne tilted her head in confusion. “You mean, Governor Vorsetti?”

  Jax smiled. Isla DeLacqua was the first duchy under her control to be run entirely by elected officials, including a regional leader, the Governor Royale. Vorsetti, a respected, well-educated cobbler, had run for the position and captured a majority of the island’s vote. While she had not met the man in person, his correspondence proved that he was a resourceful politician and smart man. “I hope you consider running for the position when the time comes for Hestes to join our new democratic system.”

  The High Courtier looked taken aback, as if she had not considered the notion before. “Thank you for your confidence in me, Your Grace.”

  With a satisfied smile, Jax turned and eagerly followed the palace steward to her awaiting chambers.

  Chapter Four

  The sun tickled Jax’s cheeks, a sign her sleepless night had finally drawn to a close. Despite her exhaustion from the arduous travels over the past week-and-a-half, sleep had eluded her. Instead, questions about the uncertain future of the realm plagued her mind, leaving her to toss and turn all night. Perhaps if Perry had been by her side, she would have slept soundly in the comforts of the spacious bed, but alas, she’d not heard from her husband since he had reached Pettraud, despite sending him updates about her own journey’s progress. I suspect he has a lot on his own plate to deal with. She frowned as she rolled over, away from the beseeching sunlight. Although I do as well, yet I found the time to write, came a begrudging thought.

  Perry’s silence wasn’t the only worry on her mind. Despite the warm, reverent reception she had received yesterday when arriving in Lamartre, Jax fretted over whether the Hestian people would welcome her as their rightful leader. Dellathorne had told her how grateful the people were that the benevolent Duchess of Saphire had ensured their Duke’s body returned home for burial.

  I wonder how long they’ll continue to sing my praises?

  While she still believed deep down that telling the Hestian people the truth about Florian’s downfall was the right thing, she couldn’t overlook the possibility of revolt. What if Florian’s people agreed with his decision to join Savant’s Coalition of Right? What if they didn’t want the new era of democratic ideals she wished to implement across the duchy? What if, what if…

  I’m going to drive myself mad with these thoughts. What will be, will be.

  With a begrudging sigh, Jax hoisted herself out of the clutches of the massive canopied bed, surveying the regal Hestian apartment she’d been assigned. The bright sunlight filtered through the window, restoring her failing spirits. Stifling a jaw-cracking yawn, she staggered over to an ornate vanity and plopped down in front of the mirror. Dark circles rimmed her amethyst eyes, her skin dull and pale. It made her look weak and overwhelmed, as if she were not up to the task at hand. She sighed at her dreary reflection. The Hestian people will take one look at me and toss me out. I need to pull myself together before I am crowned at the end of the week.

  She picked up a brush to tame her caramel-colored tresses and made quick work of the tangles. Once she felt her reflection looked somewhat more presentable, Jax fastened the belt of her dressing gown and wandered out into the sitting area of her impressive suite. She’d barely glanced at the fine furnishings when she’d arrived yesterday before collapsing into bed. Now, in the stillness of the early morning, she wanted to properly assess her new surroundings.

  As she stepped over the arched threshold into the spacious sitting room of the apartment, she stifled a small gasp. Ziri lounged on one of the elegant sofas, tossing her blades skillfully into the air.

  “Good morning, Duquessa.” The former acolyte’s dark gaze swept over Jax. “I hope you don’t mind me saying, but it doesn’t look like you’ve had a good night’s rest.”

  Jax laughed off her shock. “I appreciate your honest assessment, Ziri. No, I’m afraid sleep remained quite elusive.” She tilted her head quizzically. “May I ask what you are doing here?”

  Ziri gracefully rose from the cushioned sofa. “I thought it best that I keep watch over you during our first night in a foreign castle. Even with the warm reception we received from High Courtier Dellathorne, one can never be too careful.”

  “Why, Ziri,” Jax said with a raised brow, “you’re even more protective of me than Captain Solomon.”

  Ziri’s lips twitched with an impish smirk. “Please, Duquessa. Propriety is the only thing keeping the Captain away from your side.”

  Jax stiffened slightly at the remark. Was Ziri making an innocent observation or insinuating something more?

  “He was more than relieved at my suggestion to keep watch over you,” Ziri continued, either oblivious to or ignoring the effect of her comment. The additional explanation did make Jax inclined to believe that Ziri’s comment contained no covert subtext.

  “You two seem already of one mind—when it comes to my safety, that is.” Jax carefully examined Ziri. It had been a while since the two of them had been completely alone and were able to speak freely. Perhaps now was the time to uncover if her hunch about the growing attraction between George and her spymaster was right.

  Ziri tilted her head. “Captain Solomon is very respectful of my opinions, of all his men’s opinions. As are you, Duquessa. It is rare to see such humility in a leader these days. Your virtuous leadership has only reinforced my belief that I made the right decision to join your court.”

  Jax felt her face warm. “I’m glad. I would hate for you to regret leaving the Knights of Grace.”

  “I am touched by your concern.” Ziri bowed her head.

  “So…” Jax paused, struggling to direct the conversation without being obvious, “I know, as spymaster, you have a duty to the Crown, but please don’t forget you have a duty to your own happiness, Ziri. I want you to feel like you can make a life for yourself, once things have settled down in the realm.”

  “A life, Duquessa? Protecting and serving you is my life.”

  Jax waved a hand. “You’re allowed more than that, Ziri. You’re allowed to have fun, to seek out new experiences and friends, to find love.”

  Ziri placed a hand on her hip. “I see.”

  Jax released a frustrated sigh. Ziri wasn’t taking the bait, so she decided to stop beating around the bush. “I’ve noticed you and George have grown quite close over these past weeks.”

  “Indeed. He is the Captain of the Ducal Guard, and I am your spymaster.”

  Ziri’s straightforward tone made Jax’s teeth grind. Was the spymaster toying with her, or just completely unaware of what Jax was getting at?

  She was grateful when Ziri continued without any additional prodding. “I am very much enjoying my time with the Captain, if that’s what you mean. He has become a trusted friend.”

  “Just a friend?” Jax’s stomach flipped with anxiety as she waited for Ziri’s answer.

  Ziri’s eyes trailed across the room, settling on one of the
large windows. “Perhaps there is a chance for us to be something more to each other, but I suppose time will tell.”

  Jax’s heart thudded violently against her ribcage, her suspicions confirmed. So, Ziri was interested in George, but their relationship had not progressed as quickly as Jax had assumed. As much as it pained her to think of George’s love for her diminishing, she knew that for her friend’s sake, she had to encourage him to make a move, and soon.

  Yet, before she could suggest to Ziri that she pursue George on her own terms, a knock on the apartment’s main door interrupted their discussion.

  Ziri tilted her head toward Jax in wordless question. It was still quite early in the morning. Why would anyone be disturbing the Duchess at this hour? Perhaps Jaquobie had already sent word about Cetachi and the Unity Fund, as Jax had written to him last night. On the wings of her legendary crowned falcons, a message could be across the realm within a few hours’ time.

  Crossing the room with quick steps, Jax’s fingers grabbed the brass door handle. The thick wood prevented her from hearing who stood on the other side, but with Ziri hovering nearby, she had no concerns. Jax drew back the door, expecting to see Dellathorne or another Hestian courtier, carrying a message.

  “Virtues! I guess we do have our work cut out for us.”

  Jax found herself staring slack-jawed at two figures beaming back at her.

  “Uma! Sabine!” In a fluid rush, Jax flung her arms around the two petite women, her myriad of anxieties melting away. Squeezing her friends tightly, she finally broke free of them long enough to ask, “What in the Virtues are you both doing here?”

  “Surprise!” Uma Dorrow, Jax’s lady-in-waiting and longtime companion, gave her a mischievous smile. “As soon as Jaquobie returned home to Saphire, he suggested we come down here to meet you, if you can believe it.”