Burdened Bloodline

by Sarah E. Burr

  Gliding toward the massive oval table that spanned across the middle of the study, Jax brushed her fingertips lightly over the dozens of unfurled maps lining its rustic top. “You missed another outburst at breakfast this morning. He threatened to dissolve the Pettraud-Saphire alliance once he inherits the throne.”

  Cornelius’s stubbled cheeks lost their color. “Virtues, what has gotten into that boy?” His voice was a harsh whisper.

  “Philippe is a grown man,” Jax snapped back, more fiercely than she intended. “Coddling him will do your duchy no favors.”

  He sank into a cushioned chair, rubbing the back of his neck as if to alleviate the growing tension in the room. “I know, Jacqueline. I know. I just don’t know what to do. I hardly recognize him anymore.” Cornelius stared off, his gaze haunted.

  Jax knelt beside him, her hand gripping the arm of his chair. “You could invoke the Code of Succession.”

  Cornelius’s body convulsed. “Mind your words, Duchess!”

  Refusing to back down, she pressed onward. “Invoke the Code and declare Philippe unfit to rule. Name one of your other sons Pettraud’s heir. Goodness, you have enough of them to choose from.”

  Shaking his head, Cornelius hissed, “I cannot do it. It will send my entire family into a blood war, vying for the throne. And don’t think for one moment Philippe would ever accept his fate without a fight. I cannot risk such upheaval in my court now, with the War Council looming.”

  Jax rose and took a seat opposite her father-in-law. “Once this business with Savant and Beautraud is settled, will you consider it?”

  He did not answer.

  She edged forward, slamming her palm on the table. “He’s serious about breaking our alliance, about dissolving the trade agreements that sustain your people. Pettraud will fall to ruin if he has his way with his ill-conceived ideas of independence from the realm.” Jax folded her arms across her heaving chest. “I will not try to reason with a madman and let him destroy everything my father and I worked so hard to create.”

  The mention of the late Duke seemed to sober Cornelius. “You’re right, you’re right. Oh, goodness,” he said, pressing his head against the back of his chair as he closed his sorrowful eyes. “Penelope is just as disappointed as you are.”

  Is? “What was that?” Jax asked, assuming she’d misheard the Duke’s words.

  He looked at her matter-of-factly. “Penelope has had the same concerns about Philippe’s state of mind for a while now. She’s very unhappy with him.”

  Jax was at a loss for words for several awkward moments. “Sir, what do you mean ‘Penelope has had the same concerns’?”

  He shrugged, clearly unaware of her bristling anxiety. “She reprimands me for letting our son grow wild, but even she doesn’t have any suggestions for how to tame him.” His glassy stare wandered out the window, as if in search of something.

  Jax clutched the arms of her chair for support. What was her father-in-law going on about? His wife, Penelope, had been dead for over three years.

  Chapter Nine

  “Jacqueline? Jacqueline, are you all right?” Cornelius asked, bringing her thoughts back into sharp focus. “You’re white as a pearl. Should I go fetch someone?”

  It felt like hours had passed, but she supposed only a few stunned minutes of silence had elapsed. “I’m fine,” Jax managed, trying to calm her rapidly beating heart. “I’m just…Duke Pettraud, you do remember your wife’s death, don’t you?”

  The lines on his face deepened. “Now, why would you bring up something like that? What has Penelope’s death got to do with anything?”

  Jax stared at him, her mind a tangle of confusion. “You just said a few moments ago…Penelope has been talking to you about Philippe’s behavior—”

  His bushy brows rose. “What? No, you must have misheard me, dear.” He rose and poured her some water from a nearby pitcher. He placed it in front of her, eyes brimming with concern. “Are you sure you got enough sleep last night? I’m sure this business with Philippe is causing you distress, but we must focus on the task at hand for now.” He reclaimed his seat and steepled his fingers together. “We must draft up a summons for the War Council.”

  As Cornelius went about finding an unmarred roll of parchment, Jax tried to regain her composure. What in the name of Virtues had just transpired between her and the Duke? One minute, he was talking as if his wife was still alive and the next, he was close to calling her crazy? She warily examined his hunched-over form as he waded through mounds of papers. Had she just witnessed a glimpse into the Duke’s deteriorating mental state?

  “Jacqueline? Are you ready?” Again, Cornelius’s gruff voice sliced through her thoughts as he waved an inked quill in front of her face.

  Taking a deep breath, she decided she’d share her concerns with Perry later. The need to summon the War Council took precedence over everything else, as worrisome as the Duke’s health may be. “As ready as one can be, I suppose.”

  He gave her a toothy grin. “How to begin? There’s no template for anything like this, sadly.” There had only ever been one War Council held in the realm’s history, and there was little documentation about the event that had not been corroded by time.

  Jax held out her palm, silently requesting the quill. This was her plan, after all. It should be written by her hand. “I’ve given it a bit of thought.” She scribbled the words that had been bouncing around in her head for days. “Here, tell me what you think.”

  She handed Cornelius the parchment, and he narrowed his eyes to read her fluid script:

  Fellow sovereigns, these are words I hoped I would never have to write. I, Jacqueline Arienta Xavier, Duchess of Saphire and the Isla DeLacqua isles, summon the leaders of the Realm of Virtues to a War Council.

  Recent events have cast a shadow across the continent by the Duchies of Tandora, Beautraud, and Savant, and my grievances with these nations must be aired. By the code of the realm, the leaders of the duchies are required to attend a council should one or more of the Virtues be broken by another nation. This War Council aims to resolve these grievances without bloodshed, but should any party breach the protocol of the War Council, rest assured, forceful action will be taken. The time and place of this gathering will be determined in subsequent communications.

  I await confirmation of your attendance and willingness to adhere to the code our ancestors laid down at the founding of the realm.

  Regards,

  Duchess Saphire

  Cornelius looked up from the scroll. “You’re not going to address that Tandora and her cronies broke the code by issuing an assassination attempt on your life?”

  A grim smile curled on her lips. “And give the other rulers the same idea? No. I’d rather put it all out in the open at the council.”

  “But, if they don’t know the grievances,” the Duke said, scratching his head, “why would they come?”

  “Curiosity, for one,” Jax said. “More importantly, it is all part of the bylaws. If a sovereign issues a decree for a War Council, the other leaders must comply, or risk being openly attacked. With me being the one calling for action, I doubt anyone would want to go up against the might of Saphire’s armed forces.”

  Cornelius conceded with a nod. “I guess I need to brush up on these guidelines. I’d hate to breach protocol out of ignorance and end up on the chopping block.”

  His tone suggested he was joking, but Jax found no humor in the comment. “I’ll draft a notice for each sovereign, yourself included.” She seized another piece of blank paper and went to work. “How fast can you get these to our counterparts?”

  The Duke stroked his beard. “I’ll have them sent by raven as soon as the ink is dry.”

  With a satisfied smile, Jax copied her summons word-for-word for each of the realm’s leaders: Duke Lysandeir, Duke Cetachi, Duke Mensina, Duke Savant, Duchess Tandora, Duke Crepsta, Duke Beautraud, Duchess Kwatalar, Duchess Zaltor, and Duke Hestes. The War Council would be the first time they’
d all been in one room together since before she’d taken the throne. Even at the summit that resulted in the creation of the Cetachi dukedom, most leaders had sent High Courtiers in their place. They would not have that luxury this time. A War Council required the sovereign’s presence and the sovereign’s presence alone.

  Cornelius’s eyes roamed over the fateful words. “Where are you hoping the gathering will take place? Somewhere neutral, like Kwatalar?”

  Caramel locks of hair tossed over her shoulder as Jax shook her head. “Considering the attempted assassination took place in Kwatalar, I’d hardly consider it neutral territory. My hope is to eventually convince everyone to travel to Cetachi.”

  The Duke raised an eyebrow. “What makes you want to go there?”

  “I sent Saphirian guards to help train and build Darian’s own forces,” Jax explained. “Most outposts have at least a battalion of Saphire warriors within their ranks. Should the War Council go poorly, I want to be able to launch an immediate assault.”

  Cornelius looked even more doubtful. “Why would our adversaries ever agree to meet there?”

  “Because out of all the duchies, Cetachi is the most underdeveloped and the least likely to be able to spring a trap. Whoever the hosting nation is will have incredible power, housing every leader of the realm within its borders. Any other, more established nation could use that to their political advantage.”

  “And hold us all hostage?” the Duke said with a gasp.

  Jax bowed her head. “Exactly. Darian still has very few resources at his disposal, which significantly lessens the likelihood of such a maneuver.” She rolled up the last missive, sealing the wax with her family’s crest with the small gold stamp she’d tucked in her pocket before breakfast. “I’ll let everyone come to that conclusion on their own, though. If I even hint at wanting the council to assemble in Cetachi, you can bet there will be opposition.”

  Cornelius gathered the sealed documents in his arms. “I’ll deliver these to the courier house myself. The ravens will be airborne soon, Jacqueline. Your plan is underway.” He paused upon reaching the doorway of his study and turned to her. “Are you sure you want to go down this path? I won’t hold it against you, should you want to back out.”

  His offer weighed heavily on her shoulders. “As much as I’d like to avoid confrontation, I cannot ignore the black clouds stretching across the realm. Something has to be done. Something must be done.”

  He dipped his chin. “Very well, Duchess. So it shall be.”

  She followed him out into the gloomy hallway, the morning sun now hidden behind thick, leering clouds. “I’ll see you at lunch?”

  “I think I’m going to take to my chambers for a bit of rest,” the Duke replied, his cheeks flushing. “All this excitement has worn me out, but I shall be in top form for dinner.”

  He disappeared through a nearly-invisible side door before she could reply. It wasn’t even midday and the Duke was already tired? She hadn’t made him exert himself that much during their morning session. They hadn’t even begun to strategize how to approach the council debate. Should she have offered to take the missives to the courier house herself? Her worries flitted back to Cornelius’s mentions of his late wife, as if she were alive and well, doling out advice. Had she somehow misheard him, or had the Duke been lost in some strange episode?

  As she retraced her steps to the dining hall, Jax replayed the entire exchange in her mind. Besides the odd references the Duke had made, she felt satisfied with what they had accomplished. By tomorrow, every sovereign would have her summons in their hands.

  ‡

  “Done already, Duchess?”

  Jax searched for the source of the question, spotting Sabine lounging in a sitting room that sprouted off a hallway she’d been exploring.

  Springing up out of her chaise, Sabine waltzed over to the archway, giving Jax a friendly wave. “Galahad isn’t going to be pleased. He bet Kaul twenty gold you’d be locked away with the Duke until nightfall.”

  Jax surveyed the cozy room the young woman had been occupying. Welcoming flames flickered in the fireplace, warming the chilly atmosphere of the cold stone. “We made good headway this morning and decided to quit while we were ahead for now,” she replied.

  Sabine’s cheerful expression slackened. “The Duke needed to rest, didn’t he?”

  “Is that normal of late?”

  Sabine nodded, her cascade of pale hair bobbing up and down. “Everyone else seems to be chalking his mood swings up to old age, but the Duke isn’t that old.”

  “You’re worried about him?”

  “Of course,” Sabine answered. “He took me in, treated me like a daughter for most of my life. I thought his affections might waver with Duchess Penelope’s passing, but no, he was gracious enough to let my mother and I live out our days here.” She threaded her hands together, wringing them with obvious anxiety. “It pains me to see him suffer in such a way.”

  Jax debated a moment whether she should share the Duke’s lapse in memory with the young woman before pressing forward. “The strangest thing happened while the Duke and I were at work. He began talking like Duchess Penelope was still alive and giving him counsel.”

  Sabine’s eyes became pools of liquid gold. “I know he’s been confused about her passing when his sleepwalking is interrupted, but I’ve never known him to have a lapse during the day.”

  “Perhaps I heard him wrong, but I don’t think I did.” Jax bit her lower lip. “When I questioned him, he looked at me like I was losing my senses.”

  “I think Mistress Lenora should be made aware. We were all so hopeful the worst of his sickness had passed…” Sabine’s gaze trailed off with her words.

  Jax agreed. “Would you mind directing me to the infirmary? I’ll speak with her before lunch.”

  “Let me show you the way. This old castle is littered with passageways. Sometimes I still find myself lost, and I’ve lived here nearly all my life.”

  Sabine escorted her down a series of dark stairwells, and Jax was exceedingly glad for the company along the way. “You were right. I never would have found this, even with a map.” She chuckled as they arrived at a set of double doors that bore a healer’s symbol.

  “Oh, I’ve heard you’re quite good at puzzling things out, Duchess. You would have found it eventually.” Sabine’s laugh was melodic.

  “Please, call me Jax.” The Duchess smiled as she bestowed the honor given only to those she considered friends.

  Sabine blushed, clearly understanding the significance of the offer. “Would you like me to wait out here to escort you back to the luncheon? High Courtier Shavon arranged to have it out on the conservatory terrace.”

  Jax hesitated as she raised her hand to push open the door. “Why don’t you come in with me? Perhaps hearing concerns from both of us will prompt Mistress Lenora into action.”

  Sabine reached for Jax’s arm. “I hope my speaking about my mother’s health didn’t give you the impression that Lenora is not dedicated to her post. She’s doing all she can to ensure the Duke remains healthy.”

  Jax took the young woman’s hand and squeezed it. “Still, I’d like you to be present.”

  They entered the dimly lit infirmary, the only source of light flickering from three gnarled chandeliers hanging overhead. There were no windows in the sprawling circular room, leaving Jax to assume they were somewhere deep within the cliffside.

  “Lennie? Lennie, are you here?” Sabine called out, her childlike voice echoing against the high stone ceiling.

  Lenora poked her head out from behind one of the many privacy screens surrounding the cluster of sick beds. “Hello, there. I was just replenishing the bedside incense burners.” She stopped short upon noticing Jax standing next to Sabine. “Greetings, Duchess. Are you feeling all right?”

  “I’m fine,” Jax said, moving closer to the court physician. “I actually wanted to speak with you about a strange episode I witnessed the Duke having this morning.”
r />   Lenora’s amber eyes widened. “Episode? What do you mean?”

  Jax recounted her exchange with Cornelius about his wife, keeping to herself that Duchess Penelope had voiced criticism of Philippe’s behavior.

  Lenora stroked her chin in thought. “Oh, dear. Philippe came by this morning and told me the guards found the Duke wandering around last night, and now this…”

  “Is there anything we can do?” Sabine asked.

  “I’ve tried everything I was taught about memory strain at the Academy. I’m not sure what else I can do…” Lenora’s eyes searched the room for an answer. “I’ve gone through my medical tomes a dozen times already, hoping something regarding his symptoms will pop out at me.”

  Jax approached the topic from a different angle. “Duchess Penelope wasn’t afflicted by memory loss when she became ill, was she?”

  “No.” Lenora shook her head. “She suffered from a crippling blood disease. It basically eats away at the healthy cells in the body.”

  Sabine sniffled at Jax’s side, likely thinking of her own mother’s pain.

  Lenora moved over to her work table, picking up a flask filled with a green liquid. “I’ll up the dose of the Duke’s sleeping drafts. Perhaps he’s simply not getting enough rest. He has been preoccupied of late, what with your arrival, Duchess.”

  Jax interpreted the royal physician’s solution as a dismissal. “Let us hope that is the case.” She and Sabine retreated into the hallway.

  “I feel so bad for Lennie. She seems so defeated.” Sabine’s shoulders sagged. “She’s asked for more resources, but the Duke won’t give them to her. He insists he’s fine.”

  Jax wrapped a comforting arm around the young woman. “As soon as I return to Saphire, I’ll send my best healers to assist her.”

  Sabine smiled. “You’re nothing like I’d thought you’d be, Jax. Philippe painted such a boorish picture of you after he returned from the wedding. I can see he was very wrong about you.”