House of Shadows: Royal Houses Book Two

by K. A. Linde

The House of Shadows will become the thirteenth tribe of Alandria, sovereign to the Society and hereto known as tribe Charbonnet.

  All full-Fae will remain within the arranged boundaries of Charbonnet for a duration of five years with no standing army.

  A Society occupation will exist within the bounds of the tribe until the Society dictates that they are able to rejoin the greater world.

  No member of tribe Charbonnet will be permitted to enter the dragon tournament or join the Society for a period of one hundred years.

  All held slaves will be immediately released and slavery abolished in all forms.

  Any and all illegal magical artifacts will be handed over to the Society for destruction.

  A fine of a million marks a year will be paid to the Society for the rebuilding of the city of Lethbridge and reparations for lives lost.

  Kerrigan winced with each new infraction added. The Society had all the bargaining chips on their side. They could and, apparently, had asked for everything. And the queen, in an effort to keep her people safe, had given it all away.

  Fordham said nothing. He hardly even blinked as his people were stripped of everything that had made them what they were. She wanted to reach out to him, to offer comfort as the army cheered their victory and his demise. But he had been so adamant that he didn’t want them to turn on him that she had no way of doing that without putting a spotlight on him.

  He should have been in those negotiations. He should have figured out a way to help those he cared about. But he hadn’t stepped forward as king even though he was the rightful heir.

  And when the treaty was finished being read, he didn’t cheer with the others. He just stood there and watched as everyone celebrated. Then, he turned and walked away. Kerrigan didn’t know how to help him. So much of it was excessive. The House of Shadows had already lost so many lives. To confine them to the mountain they’d been isolated in felt cruel. To not permit them a place in the government they were now forced to be a part of was even worse. And what did that mean for Fordham? He was already part of the Society. Would he not ascend to an official position because of this treaty? It seemed ridiculous since he had fought for the winning side.

  Kerrigan stepped forward, hoping to speak to Helly about it, but she was dismissed from the commander’s tent before she could even get inside.

  She huffed and whirled around, determined to do something. Kerrigan’s eyes landed on another council member, Master Kress. He was in charge of the list of prisoners and working out who was and wasn’t a slave to be released. Something would have to be done with all the humans and half-Fae within the House of Shadows, as they could obviously no longer remain where they had been enslaved. Which gave Kerrigan an idea. She just wished it weren’t Master Kress.

  “Sir,” she said as she approached him.

  His eyes swept to her, and he sneered. “What is it, Miss Argon? Can you not see that I am busy?”

  “Yes, sir. Of course. I was inquiring about two half-Fae slaves—Benton and Bayton.”

  “Why?” he demanded.

  “I’d like to request that they be released to me.”

  “To you?” he asked. “You’re going to have two half-Fae slaves?”

  She balked. “Of course not, sir. I was hoping to help them find work and a place to live in Kinkadia. They’re going to need a lot of help. There should be sponsors from within the Society for this, sir.”

  He looked at her for a moment and then softened. “Too true. If only we could get more Society members to offer such.” He shrugged. “I’ll find them on my roster and have someone collect them. They should be ready to fly when we leave here.”

  “Thank you, sir.”

  “Maybe spread it around that we’re looking for more sponsors.”

  “Of course, sir,” she said with a brilliant smile. Kress had voted for kicking her out of the Society. She might have just turned one council member in her favor. One down, a dozen to go.

  There was so much more work to do before they could all fly out. She helped round up prisoners and clear rubble from the city. She cleaned out burned buildings in the lower quarter, salvaged what she could of the boats she’d destroyed, and ran missions to nearby cities for supplies, mainly food. She was weary and ready to go home and not think about war for a hundred years or more.

  But she knew that even when she returned, she wouldn’t really rest. She had started a movement for humans and half-Fae in the city. Bringing in all the displaced refugees from the House of Shadows would only swell their numbers. The Society might see them as a problem, but Kerrigan saw it as an opportunity. These people might be refugees, but they deserved fair treatment and a voice in the government as much as anyone else. And if no one else would take up the mantle, she would have to do it.

  She was so lost in her thoughts that she didn’t even realize she had crossed from the Society holdings over to the gap of land that led to the Bryonican soldiers until one of them hollered, “It’s Lord March’s fiancée!”

  She froze at the word. Fiancée. It still left a bitter taste in her mouth.

  March stepped out of his tent at those words. A smile lit his face as he found her gaze. She didn’t return the gesture. In fact, all she wanted to do was run as March purposely strode across the camp in her direction.

  “Have you come to see us off?” March asked as he got closer.

  “Are you leaving then?”

  “We’ve done our part. The Society is giving the House of Medallion a reward for our work here.” He beamed. “And I’ll be awarded a medal of honor.”

  March, the war hero. Just great.

  “Congratulations,” she said. “We’ll remain for a few days to clean up.”

  “Hear, hear,” he said with a laugh.

  It was maybe the most normal conversation that they’d ever had. He was jubilant. Not an ounce of the venom that he’d had that night at the winter Season party in Rosemont. If she didn’t know he was a snake, she might have even enjoyed his company.

  “Well, I’ll just…” She gestured away.

  “No need to run off,” he said, catching her hand. “We got off on the wrong foot. You’ve lived your life, and I’ve lived mine. I want to apologize for how I acted this winter. I was… jealous.” He ducked his head, as if he were a fool in love. Gods, he was a triumphant actor.

  “It’s fine,” she said, pulling herself free. “I was under an immense amount of stress from the Society. I wasn’t myself.”

  “I realize that. You’re brilliant,” he said with a smile. She looked at the edges, waiting to see it for false, but it wasn’t there. “I watched you flying and in battle. I have never met a woman such as yourself. If you’d permit, I would like to get to know you more, my lady.”

  “I thought that you didn’t care about me,” she said, anger returning to her voice. How dare he treat her like trash and threaten her people, only to try to court her favor.

  “Can’t we do this in a way that’s more agreeable?” he asked, stepping forward. “You are as fierce and deadly and beautiful as a nightshade. Truly, I am besotted, Lady Argon. We are to be joined. It does not have to be unpleasant.”

  She swallowed and watched herself swimming in his blue irises. How easy it would be to love this man if he were anyone else. He had spoken the words to entrap her, not understanding that he had already lost every single ounce of her goodwill at a party on Geivhrea.

  But she had taken strategy classes in her government courses the last year. They had taught her all the history and philosophy of modern warfare. Perhaps what was happening with March was no different. A new sort of war. And if she wanted to win, to keep herself from being weak ever again, then she had one job. Convince him that she wanted this too.

  Slowly, she released her anger and looked to the ground and then up at him through dark lashes. All the coquettish lessons she’d suffered through with Darby coming in handy.

  “Maybe it could work out,” she said softly. “I would like that.”
<
br />   His smile only brightened. And then to her shock, he grasped her around the waist and planted a firm kiss on her lips. She gasped, and he took advantage of the opportunity to slide his tongue in and meet hers. Every instinct in her body told her to escape, to scramble away. Instead, she went loose as jelly in his embrace and told her mind she could endure one kiss to get away from him forever.

  Cheers and catcalls and whistles rose up from the army all around them. The Bryonican soldiers seeing exactly what they wanted. Their general planting one on his intended, their future lady. Maybe their future queen.

  He released her slowly, a lustful smile on his pretty lips. She staggered backward with a forced laugh.

  “I shall see you at the spring Season,” he called out to her as she fled. “Then, we will discuss wedding dates.”

  The crowd cheered louder. She had to keep the embarrassed smile on her face for ages. It wasn’t until she was safely ensconced in her own tent that she let it slip, and anger covered everything else. She would beat March at his own game. She would bury him before this was over.

  As promised, Benton and Bayton appeared at her tent the morning the Society intended to return to Kinkadia. Her eyes filled with tears when she saw them. She rushed forward and threw her arms around her friends. “They let you out.”

  “All thanks to you, my lady,” Benton said.

  “We’d still be displaced without your help,” Bayton added.

  “Kerrigan. It’s just Kerrigan from now on. You’re no one’s attendant anymore.”

  Benton and Bayton exchanged glances. Benton spoke up, “Actually, miss, if you’d please, we would like to work for you as our thanks.”

  Kerrigan gaped. “What? I… I don’t think that I can cover your expenses. Plus, I live in the mountain, but I don’t have my own quarters yet. I was going to help you find work.”

  Bayton waved that all aside. “We understand the circumstances, but we still feel that we owe you our support. And truly, you need some looking after.”

  Benton clucked her tongue at the camp. “Allow us to take this down for you, miss.”

  “Call me Kerrigan, please. I can’t have attendants that I can’t pay. That’s not how it works.”

  “I’m sure you will figure it out, miss,” Bayton said.

  “You always do,” Benton said and then went to work, taking down the tent and packing all of her belongings.

  Kerrigan shook her head.

  Fordham appeared then out of his own tent and stared at the twins in shock. “What have you done?”

  “I’m sponsoring their release,” Kerrigan said. “I’ve been offering the opportunity to other Society members to reduce the potential refugee situation.”

  Fordham gaped. “You didn’t mention it to me.”

  “And when would I have? This is the first I’ve seen of you.”

  “I’ve been working.”

  Benton bowed deeply to Fordham. “Your Highness, may we help with your campsite as well?”

  Fordham flinched at the royal title and looked around to see if anyone else had noticed. “No, I can do it.”

  “Absolutely, Your Highness,” Bayton said and then began to deconstruct his tent as well.

  Kerrigan shrugged. “They don’t listen to me either.”

  “Because you both need looking after,” Benton insisted.

  Fordham pursed his lips. “We’ll have to pay you.”

  “Of course, Your Highness,” Bayton said dismissively.

  He ground his teeth and looked to Kerrigan as if this were her fault.

  “You’d have known about this if you were doing anything but penance,” she hissed at him. “You should have been in that tent, negotiating for your people. You should be at the head of discussions for the refugees. These are your people, Fordham.”

  “Don’t,” he snarled. “I am dealing with it. You deal with your fiancé.”

  She glared. “I am dealing with my fiancé. I am dealing with how to get rid of him. That is my main objective.”

  “I saw you kissing him in front of the entire camp. Forgive me if I don’t believe you.”

  “Believe what you want. You always have made assumptions about me, haven’t you?”

  “This is not at all the same thing.”

  “Then, what are you doing about everything right now, Fordham? Why are you on the sidelines?”

  “It’s the curse!” he barked. “This whole bloody thing is because of me.”

  She startled. “When are you going to stop blaming yourself for everything that happens and start trying to fix it?”

  “I tried that with you, and look where that led us,” he said, placing another foot of space between them. “The minute that I feel anything at all, it is stolen or killed in front of me. My mother is dead. Dacia is dead. My father is dead. Half of my kingdom is dead! I will not interfere and have the rest die with it. And if you marry March, then good riddance.”

  Tears came to her eyes at the harsh words as his cold gray eyes fixed on her with all the built-up anger and frustration. Then, he disappeared in a cloud of shadows, leaving her to pick up the pieces of her heart.

  After they had finished with Fordham’s tent, Benton and Bayton carefully bundled her in a blanket, sitting her before the dying fire. Bayton brushed free the snarls in her curly hair and then plaited it back out of her face. Neither of them said a word, but the caution and worry in their faces said everything.

  When the camp was packed, Kerrigan shrugged off Fordham’s anger and called Tieran. Audria had agreed to carry one of the twins to redistribute the weight. Over the next couple of weeks, the remainder of the refugees would be brought into Kinkadia by foot or in caravans.

  Benton held on tight, only screaming a little as Tieran rose into the skies and headed south toward the city. Bayton looked to be in a blissful state just getting to be near the dragons, let alone to ride on one.

  It was a few hours back to the city. Fordham even fly with them. Alura was being carried by a healer back to Kinkadia. Now, it was just the three of them, and Audria wearily took point. A few hours later, they landed in an aerie, and with Benton and Bayton’s help, it only took one trip to get her belongings back to her room. She’d have to figure out where they could stay, but there was plenty of space within the mountain.

  Kerrigan returned to the aerie to see if they needed help with any of the remainder of the supplies. She followed Mistress Corinna into the room. She veered straight for Helly, whispering furtively, and handed her a document. Kerrigan kept chancing glances at them, wondering what was going on.

  Then, Helly sighed heavily and nodded. Kerrigan read the words on her lips. “Do it.”

  Corinna moved into action, and the Society Guard who had been carefully placed around the aerie formed up behind her. She stepped up to Lorian, who had just landed and stood by his dragon, Oria.

  “Lorian Van Horn, you are under arrest by order of the Society council for possession of illegal artifacts and treason. Anything you say and do can be used against you.”

  Lorian jumped backward toward his dragon, as if he were going to flee, but a rush of guards dropped him to the ground. A set of magic-dampening manacles were fixed around his wrists, rendering him inert.

  Lorian gasped. “What is the meaning of this? I didn’t commit treason.”

  He was still shouting as Corinna dragged him away, reading him his rights as a Society member to appear before the council to plead his case. Kerrigan crossed to Helly, who was silently crying.

  Helly glanced up. “You were right. I had a team check his home and study, and there were artifacts as well as letters with the House of Shadows all this time. He was the mole, and he cost us good men and women in this war.”

  Kerrigan pulled Helly into a hug. No matter that Lorian had caused her so much grief, he had been friends with Helly for years, and his treachery would have lasting repercussions.

  63

  The Trial

  Kerrigan hastened into the council chamb
er. Her eyes flitted around the room until she found Audria and Roake seated off to the side. “Sorry I’m late. I was looking for Fordham. Have you seen him?”

  Audria shook her head. “He wasn’t in his room when I left. Roake?”

  “He said he’d be right behind me. Must be late.”

  But Fordham was never late.

  “Huh,” she muttered. She bit her lip and sat back. He’d show up. He had to. Kerrigan and Fordham had both received notices about a formal meeting with the council after Lorian’s fate was decided.

  She had never seen the council chamber full before. Every Society member in the mountain was in attendance for Lorian’s trial. He stood at the podium, straight-backed and unblinking. Someone had the decency to clean him up, but she could see the strain the last few days had on him.

  “Have either of you spoken to Alura?”

  Alura awoke yesterday. Helly had informed Kerrigan that Alura didn’t wish to have any visitors. She wouldn’t tell her how she was doing medically either.

  Audria and Roake shared a look, and Audria said, “Helly wouldn’t let us see her. But can you imagine how she’s feeling right now?”

  “Terrible,” Kerrigan whispered.

  But Alura wasn’t in attendance. Surely if she was awake, she would do everything she could to be at her father’s trial.

  Then the council door opened one more time and two figures stepped through. Kerrigan gasped, and she wasn’t the only one. Alura had one hand on a cane and the other wrapped around her mother. Anya’s eyes were puffy and red, but she helped her daughter maneuver through the council room, looking at no one save her husband.

  But Alura… Alura was not okay. She had woken up, but she hadn’t recovered. She leaned heavily on the cane, limping every step and taking an interminable amount of time to cross the room. Despite it all, she was as blank-faced and straight-backed as her father. No pain crossed her visage. Only clear determination. How could someone whose entire identity had been their strength and skill in battle have been decimated so thoroughly? Who would Alura be without it?