Harrowed Heir

by Sarah E. Burr

  “Virtues, you really are here! And I thought dear old Ashie was pulling my leg.”

  Jax beamed as Lady Carriena Lucia Brunovaris, the former Crown Princess of Isla DeLacqua and her darling friend, glided toward her with arms outstretched.

  The two women embraced each other tightly, Jax treasuring the moment. She hadn’t realized until now that the dark events of the War Council had almost robbed her of simple joys such as these.

  “What in blazes are you doing here? Don’t you have a coronation to attend?” Lady Carriena playfully snapped when they finally parted. “That’s what the headmaster’s spies tell us, at least.”

  Jax eyed the empty threshold. Carriena had come to greet them alone. Still, she kept her voice low. “Your letter, dearest. It concerned me.”

  Lady Carriena’s refined nose crinkled. “I worried I was overreacting by writing you. I hoped you would just send a note back, telling me I was jumping to wild conclusions.” She greeted George with a quick, but affectionate hug, then a coy simper twitched on her lips as she looked at the newest member of their party. “And who might this be?”

  “Carriena, I’d like you to meet Ziri Axesinger.” Jax motioned for Ziri, clinging to the shadows of the portico, to step forward. “She is my new spymaster.”

  Lady Carriena held out a hand, which Ziri promptly shook.

  “It is a pleasure to meet your acquaintance, Lady Carriena,” Ziri said. “The Duquessa speaks fondly of you.”

  “How kind of you to say, Lady Ziri.”

  The spymaster smirked. “Oh, I am no lady.”

  Carriena’s jaw dropped at the blunt reply but quickly burst into trilling laughter. “I cannot wait to hear where you picked this one up, Jax.” She motioned to Ziri with her thumb.

  Jax grinned with weighty relief. “It’s quite a story. Much has happened since we parted ways at Galensmore.” For a time, Jax had stayed at the Saphirian estate that she had gifted to Carriena and her father after her acquisition of Isla DeLacqua.

  “It seems so. Since my return to the Academy, Ezarath’s spies have kept us all quite well informed of the goings-on in the north. But with the War Council at an end, and this Coalition of Right in tatters, we are anxious for news of what comes next.”

  “Where is the headmaster, by the way?” George asked, his eyes once more prowling to the empty hall that lay across the open threshold.

  “Ashie was on his way to inform Ezarath of your sudden arrival when I ran into him,” Carriena explained. “He let me know you were here.”

  Ziri placed a hand on her hip, her fingertips stroking one of the daggers that hung from her belt. “Who in the Virtues is Ashie?”

  Carriena opened her mouth, but George cut her off. “Lord Ashcroft Carthington is the Lord Praesidio, the leader of the Academy’s knights. He’s widely considered to be one of the best fighters the realm has ever seen.” He glared at Carriena. “‘Ashie’ hardly seems like a respectable name for such a man.”

  Carriena rolled her lilac eyes, a mark of her royal bloodline. “Still a stick-in-the-mud, eh, Solomon? You must lighten up. And until the students arrive back for lessons, I refuse to be serious.” She paused, glancing at Jax. “Although I take it this isn’t going to be a fun, social visit.”

  “Before Ezarath arrives to greet us, what more can you tell us about these providence documents?” Jax asked in hushed tones. She wagered they only had minutes before the headmaster appeared.

  Carriena sighed. “Not much, I’m afraid. I’ve tried to engage Master Gautherd in conversation about it, but he feigns ignorance. I even confronted him about what I overheard, and he told me I had simply misheard.” Carriena’s expression hardened. “I know my ears didn’t deceive me.”

  “Have you brought it up with the headmaster?” Jax asked.

  Carriena chewed on her lower lip. “Honestly, I’ve been hesitant to. My position here is still tenuous. I don’t think Ezarath has forgiven all my transgressions here as a student, and if he found out I’d been spying on him and Gautherd…well, it might not go over well.”

  Jax tilted her head. “Wouldn’t Gautherd have told him?”

  Carriena scoffed. “Not if he knew what was good for him. Gautherd is getting on in age, and everyone is encouraging him to retire, which he’s loathed to do since he can still recall historical events at the drop of a hat. But his age is beginning to get the better of him. The only reason I overheard their conversation to begin with was because Gautherd forgot I was still doing some research in the archives’ reading room.” Her frown deepened. “Ezarath came by at Gautherd’s request, and when Gautherd mentioned he wanted to talk to him about the new collection, Ezarath asked him directly if they were alone. Of course, they weren’t, but Gautherd had forgotten I was there, right inside the reading room, listening to their every word.” She folded her arms. “So, Gautherd and I are in a bit of a stalemate. Neither of us can go to the headmaster about the subject without getting ourselves in trouble.”

  “Oh, dear,” Jax murmured. “Our sudden arrival isn’t going to make things any better, especially if Ezarath finds out you alerted me to the matter.”

  Ziri cleared her throat. “Perhaps this is the perfect scenario for your spymaster to take center stage, Duquessa.”

  George cast a curious glance her way. “What do you have in mind?”

  “That Saphire’s spies got wind of a precious Savantian collection being donated to the Academy,” Ziri said, speaking with calculated finesse. “Naturally, we are still concerned about our enemy and are hoping the documents provide information as to where Savant might be hiding.”

  A wicked grin stretched across Carriena’s face. “I like this one, Jax.”

  Jax chuckled. “Then let us all get our stories in order. I hear hauntingly familiar heavy footsteps.”

  Headmaster Gregorio Ezarath’s towering form marched through the open doorway moments later, his sleeveless, scarlet robes sweeping the flagstone floor. Most of his sandy-white hair was concealed by a floppy cap, his rank of headmaster denoted by a sun-rimmed star patch on the short brim. For a man in his early seventies, he was remarkably fit. Jax had not seen Ezarath in nearly a decade, and yet, he looked as if he had stepped right out of her memories, perfectly preserved against the effects of time.

  A scowl marred his distinguished features as he came to a halt a few paces from the group. “Forgive my delay in greeting you, Duchess Saphire.” He offered her a deep bow. “Welcome to the Academy. It has been quite some time since you graced its halls.”

  Despite all the rebellious trouble she’d given him as a student, Jax had always admired and respected the esteemed headmaster. Even now, he refused to mention that the delay in greeting her had been caused by Lord Ashcroft’s calculated power move. Ezarath was not a man to make excuses for anything that happened under his own roof.

  “Indeed it has, Headmaster. Although not so much time has passed that we are now strangers. Please,” she said as she stepped forward to take Ezarath’s leathery hands, “I will always be Jacqueline to you, sir.”

  Ezarath’s scowl softened a bit, his fiery amber eyes twinkling. “What a relief. I half expected that you’d want to be referred to by all the duchies you now hold court over.” A silvery eyebrow rose. “What is it? Five?”

  Well, at least Cetachi still remains a blissful secret. She was not pleased that rumors had already surfaced about Kwatalar and Crepsta being under her dominion, in addition to Hestes. “I see your spies have kept you well informed,” Jax dryly responded.

  Ezarath’s expression grew troubled. “Those that survived the treachery of the Coalition, that is.”

  Jax’s brows rose at this admission, asking wordlessly what had happened.

  Ezarath rubbed wearily at his temple. “I felt it my duty that the Academy remain apprised of the situation, especially since I requested my teachers return at the start of the year, with promises to protect them. I sent a team of Praesidio to monitor the comings and goings of the War Council. Only
two men returned. Apparently, our knights failed to slip past one of the Coalition’s encampments.” His haunted gaze trailed off across the courtyard. “Their blood is on my hands.”

  “No.” Jax’s voice was firm. “The Coalition is the one with blood on its hands. What’s left of it, that is.” But she now had a better understanding of why Lord Ashcroft was angry with the headmaster. It had little to do with Ezarath’s decision to reopen the Academy. The Lord Praesidio’s men had died carrying out an order he had not given.

  Ezarath stared at her a moment, his eyes narrowed. “Do you really believe Duke Savant will give up that easily? You may think you have won, Jacqueline, but what’s to say he won’t entice Beautraud and Tandora’s heirs to his side?”

  “Absolutely nothing, which is why my armies are scouring the continent for him as we speak,” Jax responded coolly. She didn’t appreciate the slight condescension in Ezarath’s voice, as if she were still a young girl who didn’t know the duplicities and betrayals of life. She would not take the tentative peace between the new leaders of Beautraud and Tandora for granted.

  Ezarath shook his head and shrugged. “It is a sad state of affairs. Duchies warring with each other. It makes me ever the more grateful that the Academy abstains from the political arena.”

  As Ezarath greeted George and introduced himself to Ziri, Jax studied the old man with a keen eye. Are you really abstaining from the realm’s politics, Headmaster? She was bursting at the seams to ask about the providence documents, but she knew that would spell trouble for Carriena, who had put her position on the line to send word to her. No, she would stick to their plan and remain cool and collected, as she’d been trained to do since birth.

  “Now, please, come inside. It looks like we might be blessed with a rain shower soon.” Ezarath, ever the gracious host, ushered them across the threshold into the grand entry hall.

  An ornate staircase sprouted up from the center of the gaping chamber, leading to the various floors and dormitories upstairs. The main building housed both the student and professors’ suites, as well as the dining hall, several service areas, the archives, the headmaster’s office, and the grand study. Classrooms were peppered throughout the outside structures that made up the vast academic compound.

  “Like you, the place has hardly changed,” Jax commented with a demure smile at Ezarath. The same austere portraits she remembered from her days as a student greeted her. Masterful sculptures spanning centuries of artistic styles lined the entrance hall, reminding Jax just how many priceless treasures were housed within these walls.

  Ezarath rocked back and forth on his heels, his chest swelling with pride. “This is my home, Jacqueline. I like to keep it in order.” He clasped his hands in front of him. “Now, since we don’t have proper accommodations for a Duchess and her delegation, I hope you don’t mind staying in your old suite? The students left their rooms made up before they were sent home, so it is already prepared for you.”

  Carriena snickered. “Surely, Headmaster, the Duchess can be housed in one of the empty professor apartments?”

  Ezarath shot a silencing glare at Carriena. “Those are reserved for our instructors, Mistress, who may be returning or hired at any time. I’m sure the Duchess understands.”

  Jax kept her face neutral, but inwardly, she smirked. The Academy prided itself on worshiping wisdom and knowledge, not bloodlines. Ezarath was not-so-subtly reminding her that here, her title really had no place amongst the revered history of the realm and that she would be expected to tend to her own needs normally taken care of by servants. The Academy wasn’t a palace; it wasn’t staffed with housekeepers and maids. The students and professors were expected to maintain their own quarters.

  “I actually don’t foresee us needing to spend the night, Headmaster, but if that becomes necessary, my old suite will be fine. Although, I would ask you to see to it that Ziri and Captain Solomon are stationed on the same floor.”

  Ezarath bowed his head in acknowledgment. “While I will make an exception for the Captain here as your friend, you know we do not generally allow any soldiers other than the Praesidio within our halls. Where will the remainder of the Ducal Guard stay while you are here? Will they return to Lamartre?”

  George quietly scoffed, the idea clearly ludicrous to him.

  “We have more than enough room for them in the bunkhouse,” came a booming reply from one of the passageways that sprouted off the main hall.

  Jax spied Ezarath’s brow furrowing with anger as the charismatic presence of the strapping Lord Praesidio flooded into the room.

  “Duchess Jacqueline! Radiant as ever.” Ashcroft Carthington took Jax’s hand and bestowed a reverent kiss before he dipped into a grandiose bow. “Ruling a dukedom suits you,” he said warmly before a somber expression eclipsed his handsome face. “I was very sorry to hear about your parents. Your father was a fine man. I admired him very much in my youth.”

  If Jax remembered correctly, Lord Ashcroft had arrived at the Academy for his first term the year Jax’s own father, Richard Xavier, had graduated with honors. “Thank you very much, Lord Praesidio. I hope that while we are here, you might regale us with a tale or two about him.” She cherished the possibility of hearing stories about her beloved father in his youth.

  Ashcroft once again bowed. “If it would please Your Grace, I’d be happy to.”

  “Speaking of your impromptu visit, Jacqueline…” Ezarath had a sour look about him. “With everything going on in the realm, what brings you to our hallowed halls?” His words were barbed.

  Jax smiled her most serene smile. “You have something that might be of use to me, Headmaster. You see, my spymaster, Ziri Axesinger,” Jax flippantly motioned to the stealthy warrior, doing her best to sell the lie, “has heard reports across her network about a collection of Savantian treasures that have recently been bequeathed to the Academy.”

  Ezarath’s cheeks paled momentarily before erupting into red flames. “What nonsense is this?”

  Jax raised her eyebrows. Why was the headmaster blatantly lying to her? “Since we were already nearby in Lamartre, I thought it might do us well to peruse this new collection, to see if there are any clues, any hidden Savantian secrets, that might help my armies locate the traitor Qylvard.” She paused, letting her words sink in. “What with everything going on in the realm and all.”

  Ezarath’s nostrils flared as he took a calming breath. He clearly did not appreciate his own words being used against him. “I’m sorry you’ve come all this way to investigate a mere rumor, Jacqueline.”

  Jax stepped away from the comfort of George’s side and sauntered toward Ezarath, stopping inches from his face. He might have been physically taller than she, but the severe glare of defiance on her face made him shrink in her presence. “I think it is in the best interest of the Academy for the Coalition of Right to be dead and buried. What’s to say that Savant, in his desperation, won’t try to storm this castle and abscond with your precious treasures to fund his vendetta against me?” She kept her tone low and level. “Saphire has always honored the Academy’s sovereignty. Can you guarantee Savant would do the same, should the scales of power tip in his direction?”

  Ezarath studied her a moment, a storm of unbridled panic filling his golden eyes. “The Academy has always valued its relationship with Saphire and her allies.” He bowed his head in concession.

  “Then why lie about this new collection?”

  Ezarath’s gaze narrowed. “How are you so certain of its existence?”

  Out of the corner of Jax’s eye, she saw Carriena shift on her feet, incriminating herself.

  The old headmaster sighed. “How did you find out about the collection, Carriena?” There was no anger in his voice, only defeat.

  Carriena bit her lower lip, casting her eyes downward. “I overheard a conversation between you and Master Gautherd while I was working in the archives yesterday.”

  The color in Ezarath’s hollow cheeks drained as he sucked in a
breath. “Virtues. Then you know about the providence documents.”

  Jax nodded in confirmation. “That’s why we’re here. I can’t in good conscience take a throne that may not be rightfully mine.”

  This brought a sad smile to the headmaster’s face. “You are a credit to your title, Jacqueline. I wish I had as much confidence in your peers as I do you.”

  Jax frowned at his admission.

  “Why don’t we continue this discussion over lunch?” Ezarath suggested. “I shall see if I can wrangle Master Gautherd into attending, as his expertise is needed.” He clasped his hands. “I’ll let you rest in your rooms while lunch is prepared. We shall reconvene in, say, thirty minutes.”

  While Jax was impatient to understand why Ezarath had lied to her initially about the Savantian collection, she knew better than to press the stubborn man, and she was hungry. “We shall be down shortly.” Jax didn’t need an escort to her old quarters on the third floor, for she remembered the fortress like the back of her hand. She motioned for George and Ziri to follow, eager to speak to them in confidence.

  Carriena glided to her side as they all ascended the grand staircase. “I think it’s best if I stay out of Ezarath’s way for now.”

  Jax threaded her arm through Carriena’s. “I’m sorry if I’ve gotten you into trouble, dearest. That was never my intention when we set out.”

  Carriena shrugged off the apology. “Ezarath has some explaining to do, trying to lie his way out of this. Has he lost his mind?”

  Jax considered the headmaster’s odd reaction. She’d always believed him to be a man of impeccable character. Why had he lied to her about the Academy’s newest collection?

  “We’ll find out soon enough,” Ziri purred as she ambled up to Jax’s other side.

  Carriena leaned forward and eyed the svelte warrior. “That insignia on the hilt of your blades,” she said, her gaze lingering on the swords strapped to Ziri’s back, “I’m not familiar with that house. Where did Jax find you?”

  Jax and Ziri shared a wry grin before Jax turned to her friend. “Ziri is a former acolyte from the Knights of Grace.”