Please log in to recommend or discuss...
Valewood Bay, Estmere, Elydor
“She lives less than a full day’s ride from here.” I stopped, waiting for the serving girl to clear our meal. She’d not taken her eyes from me last eve when we arrived or this morn, but I wasn’t interested in a dalliance.
Not today, at least.
“How long will it take to secure your lady’s acquiescence?” Kael asked, leaning back into the wooden seat and stretching out his legs. His partner, Mev, watched him with a look that I knew well. One of desire.
I’d been introduced to the Gyorian prince and Aetherian princess only a fortnight ago but could appreciate their tight bond, even if partnering wasn’t in the cards for me.
“Attempt to secure it,” I clarified. “There is every likelihood she won’t come with us.”
Mev took a sip of ale. No one at The Maiden’s Rest seemed to notice anything unusual about her. By outside appearances, she was an Aetherian woman… Princess Mevlida’s long pearl-white hair overshadowing that she was also half-human. If patrons knew the long-lost daughter to King Galfrid sat in the same tavern as them, we would be surrounded. As it was, the few that remained this early in the morning were more interested in their own ales than us.
“That’s not the first time you’ve said as much. What’s the deal?” Mev, the only human to have come through the Gate from the human realm in nearly thirty years, often used words not familiar here.
“The deal?” I asked.
The corners of Kael’s mouth lifted. “The scoop. The dealio,” he said in his best Mev impression.
“Pretty sure he won’t know those either. Besides, I’ve never used ‘the dealio’ before.”
Kael’s brow raised. “No? Then would you care to tell me where I learned it?”
“Oh, I don’t know. Maybe from one of the other humans in Elydor? We’re in an entire kingdom of them.” She waved her hands around. “If you haven’t noticed.”
“I don’t associate with any other humans. As you know.”
“Not true. You associate with Issa.”
My hand froze. I put down the mug of ale and asked Mev to repeat herself.
“Did you say… Issa?”
“It’s short for Isolde. She’s literally one of the only humans, besides me, Kael likes. Actually, when I first met her—”
“Lady Isolde Hawthorne?” I asked.
Kael answered. “You
know her?”
Oh, I knew her well enough. “I’m certain I mentioned going to Hawthorne Manor when we arrived in Valewood Bay. You made no mention of being familiar with it.”
Kael sat up in his chair. “I’m certain you didn’t.”
“I’m pretty sure,” Mev cut in. “Your exact words were, ‘After we drop off Rowan, I need three days in Valewood. There’s a woman there who might be useful for this mission.’”
“And when we asked,” Kael added, his gruff, Gyorian manner more on display now than it had been before Issa’s name had been mentioned. “You refused to say any more.”
That was entirely possible. I didn’t talk about Issa.
Ever.
To anyone.
“How do you know her?” I asked, half-afraid of the answer.
“I would ask you the same.”
It was a story I had no intention of sharing.
“Uh, guys. Can we put the measuring tape away?”
Both Kael and I looked at Mev, neither of us having an idea of what that meant.
“Never mind. It would take too long to explain. Kael is friends with her. But I have a feeling she was more than a friend to you?”
Fucking humans. “A feeling? Because you’re reading me?”
No human could enter the Aetherian Gate without some type of intuitive ability. Typically, once they came through, those abilities were heightened due to the magical qualities of our realm. Mev, the daughter of a king, had apparently become quite powerful in her short time here and could sense both emotion and intent in others.
“I’m not reading you, Marek,” she said calmly. “But women’s intuition is real.”
Kael and I
exchanged a glance. He shrugged.
“Issa is the woman I intend to ask for help,” I said.
“You’re going to Hawthorne Manor?” Mev asked.
“I am.”
Kael cleared his throat. “Correction. We’re going to Hawthorne Manor. Issa is a good friend, as Mev said.”
From what I knew of Kael, that was surprising, to say the least. Gyorians and humans were very rarely friends, especially when the Gyorian in question was the son of the king who hated humans with a vengeance.
“It a long story,” Mev said. “Which it seems like we’ll be able to tell you on the road. I can’t believe Kael’s Issa is the woman you’re asking for help.” Her eyes widened. “Oh my God, of course. She senses magical qualities. Kael…”
He was looking at her with amusement.
Mev pretended to scowl at him. “You figured it out already.”
“More than that,” he said dryly. “I thought of asking her as well, especially when Marek said we were porting here.”
“Why didn’t you?” she asked.
I was still reeling from the fact that Kael was a friend of Issa’s.
“Because she won’t do it.”
I tended to agree but remained silent.
“Even if we tell her the situation?” Mev argued. “If she can sense the Wind Crystal.” She lowered her voice. “Which I assume is something she’s capable of doing since it’s apparently the strongest of all magical artifacts. It would be nice if Marek can verify it really is in the Maelstrom Depths before risking his neck to retrieve it.”
“Precisely my thinking,” I said, leaving it at that. Assuming “risking my neck” meant risking my life, it was actually much worse than
that. Surviving the Maelstrom Depths would be nearly impossible. “It would be helpful to know the Crystal was there for certain.” I turned my attention to Kael. “You don’t believe she’ll do it? Even if finding the Wind Crystal is the only way to reopen the Gate?”
Popping his last piece of bread into his mouth, Kael sighed heavily. “She’ll not want to leave Hawthorne Manor. The border has become more unstable since Mev’s return. Her people are everything to Issa. Keeping them safe is more important to her than anything, including the Gate.”
I didn’t argue his point. Kael was right about Issa’s love for her people, but I could think of one thing even more important to her than that. Either way, I was going to Hawthorne Manor to at least try to convince her to accompany us.
“You’re not going to tell us how you know her?” Mev asked.
“No,” I answered. “I’m not.”
Kael waved the serving girl to us. “I’ll simply ask Issa.”
“Maybe he doesn’t want us to know, Kael,” Mev countered.
While her partner gave the serving girl coin for our meal, I offered Mev a smile. The Aetherian princess was as kind as she was fearless. Unfortunately, the same couldn’t be said for Kael. He may be fearless, but “kind” wasn’t the first word that came to mind to describe the Gyorian warrior. He might have sworn allegiance to Mev’s father, pitting him directly against his own, but the man glowered more often than not.
I stood as Kael and Mev did the same.
“We will need to find you mounts,” I said, spotting the very person who might secure them for us. Kael followed my gaze and groaned.
“What?” Mev asked.
“Rhett Damaris is a known human smuggler, even in Gyoria. I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised Marek knows him.”
a favor. A big one. And it was time for him to pay up.
“Too bad,” Kael called. “Since I meant it as that.”
Thankfully, my back was turned so Kael couldn’t see me smiling. He was growing on me, but even so, I would be depositing King Balthor’s son in Aetheria before making my way to the Maelstrom Depths. The question now was, would I be heading there alone? Or would Lady Isolde be accompanying me? And more importantly, could I survive another encounter with her? Because the first one had nearly brought me to my knees.
Hawthorne Manor, Border of Estmere and Gyoria
“Fall back.”
The order came from my commander, one I trusted with my life. But that didn’t mean I always listened to him. As Lady of Hawthorne Manor, the welfare of its people was my responsibility. I would not surrender these animals to our enemy when they were relied on by the farmer who owned them.
“Lady Isolde.”
Pretending not to hear him, I continued to pursue the reivers, spurring my mount forward. The Gyorian raiders were headed for the trees, dangerously close to the border. I knew that was the reason my commander attempted to pull us back. But if they did make it to the border, I was prepared to deal with the consequences. It was the largest herd of sheep they’d stolen yet and one I refused to allow.
Mindful these reivers were Gyorian and could manipulate the land and eliminate us easily, if they so chose, I relied on my knowledge of the terrain to anticipate their movements. Their most likely path was a choke point, a narrow path by the stream where they could herd the sheep through.
“We need a diversion,” I yelled to Warren, who rode beside me. He wasn’t thrilled with me, but I could deal with my commander later.
As he called for two guards to loop around and draw the reivers’ attention, the remainder of our party rode into the trees. “We need to block the path at the stream,” I yelled.
Unfortunately, as the reivers became aware of our advantage, tree roots suddenly snaked across our path. Navigating through them and an innocuous rockfall that proved the reivers meant to intimidate rather than harm us, we stayed the course.
Thankfully, the diversion worked. As the reivers hesitated, we seized the opportunity to block the narrow path at the stream. The Gyorians, realizing they had lost the advantage and the herd, retreated. Regrettably, I couldn’t do the same. Warren wasn’t pleased. I rode ahead as he gave a command for the others to herd the sheep back where they belonged.
“They could have killed you. Easily,” he said, catching up to me.
“True enough,” I admitted. “But they wouldn’t risk King Balthor’s ire in doing so.”
I could sense by Warren’s expression he didn’t agree. “Balthor would not mourn the loss of a few humans.”
I pointed to the roots we circumnavigated. “Those men have little regard for law, or Elydor. Balthor hates us, but he has a deep respect for Terranor.”
Their god, like all others in Elydor, demanded one thing above all. Balance. Creating, without taking away, was
strictly forbidden.
“Perhaps they will return to right the land they’ve disturbed.”
I laughed, earning a smile from my stern commander.
“Or perhaps not,” he admitted. “Even so, I’d not see you come to harm and would have been pleased—”
“If I remained at the keep,” I finished for him.
He smartly remained silent, for that was the truth of it. Despite the fact that my father trained me himself like the son he never had, Warren disliked whenever I used that training. It was an argument we’d had so many times, I tired of attempting to dissuade him. Instead, I let him believe what he would about my role as Lady of Hawthorne and continued to think and act according to the values my parents taught me. And if that got me killed one day?
So be it.
The ride back was as terse as I expected. While my men returned the stolen sheep to their owner, we passed through the gatehouse and spoke again only when both Warren and I dismounted in the courtyard outside Hawthorne Manor’s great keep as the steward hurried toward us, blurting, “You have guests.”
That was not unusual. Hawthorne Manor often entertained guests. Warren immediately joined me. Though we did not always agree, my commander, once my father’s commander, was as loyal as they came.
“Who?” I asked, handing the stableboy the reins of my mount.
“Prince Kael and Princess Mevlida.” His eyes darted between Warren and me which made little sense. I adored Kael and was glad to see him. I’d only met Mevlida once, but the spark between the two of them was undeniable. Even so, I was surprised when rumor reached us that they were partnered. Their fathers
were bitter enemies. Kael pledging himself to King Galfrid had been a shocking development indeed.
I removed my riding gloves and took a step toward the keep. “I’ll be glad to see them both.” When my steward cleared his throat, I stopped. He was acting unusually odd.
“There is another guest.”
Master Edric, the son of a tenant farmer who my father befriended as a young boy, had been the steward of Hawthorne Manor for as long as my memory served. As loyal as Sir Warren and sharp-witted as any man or woman I knew, he and his family had served me well, especially after the sickness that spread through Estmere claiming both of my parents’ lives.
The look on his face now was typically reserved for the direst of news.
“Who?” I asked.
“The Thalassarian Navarch.”
If Edric punctured my leather armor with a broadsword, it would have been less painful. I knew it for a fact since I’d experienced it once in an unfortunate training accident.
“Marek is here?” I asked. “With the others?”
I couldn’t even manage their names. Or remember my own. If not surrounded by my men, I’d have easily succumbed to the desire to sink into the ground. Instead, I channeled the woman who’d once told me, “You’re stronger than the storms that seek to break you.” My mother’s voice echoed in my mind, steadying the whirlwind of emotions swirling around inside me.
“He is, my lady. They await you in your solar.”
Resisting the urge to rearrange the errant strands of hair that had escaped my braid, or, worse, hurry to my chamber to change from riding clothes into something more presentable, I thanked him. Telling Edric I had no need of his assistance, I made my way into the keep.
some reason that neither my parents nor my grandfather, when he was alive, could explain, it had always been named as a manor house.
Such was the way of things in Estmere.
Our ancestors who first came through the Gate brought their ways with them. Over the course of a few hundred years, some were replaced by more modern human traditions and ideals, but more of Estmere remained the same than it had changed. Elydor was a strange place for humans, its requisite need for balance allowing very little technology to pass through the Gate reminding everyone that this world was made for immortals, and humans were their guests.
Some of us, myself included, never quite believed that. If native Elydorians simply accepted we were a part of their world, we would have less cause to worry for our safety from their elemental abilities.
Each step I took toward the solar chamber was heavier than the last. Why could I face a band of Gyorian reivers but the thought of seeing Marek again made me want to lose my last meal? My leather boots crushed the newly replaced and scented rushes beneath my feet. Standing in the corridor, my gaze focused on the light of the wall sconce as it flickered against the weathered stone wall behind it.
The last time I saw him, the meeting hadn’t gone as planned.
My entire journey to Thalassaria, I imagined seeing him again, not knowing if it would even happen. Though I planned a detour to the tavern he frequented whenever in port, there was every possibility he would be out to sea. But instead, Marek was right where he’d once told me he spent much of his time when home: seated at The Moonlit Current, ale in hand. Also unsurprising, he was with a woman. A beautiful one at that. What happened next was not something I could have predicted.
I looked down at my hand, remembering the slap as clearly as if it was this morn and not years ago. The rage that had built up, seeing him again, was as unexpected as my action. I’d never struck another man, or woman, in my life, outside of training. But the look he’d given me… it had been worse than the flippant smile Marek so often wore.
It was one of regret.
Anger welled inside me. He had no right to feel regret when he’d been the one to leave, without a word. It had taken the entire journey home for me to calm myself, to wonder how I could have actually been in the same room with him but not spoken a word to the only man I’d ever loved.
What a fool I had been.
Not for loving him. Marek was an easy man to fall for. But to hear his stories, laugh at his conquests and bad behavior, and then believe I was different? If Kael and Mevlida were not in that chamber, I’d not be reaching my hand out toward the door. But they were, and the reason all three were together had me curious enough to turn the knob, take a deep breath, and step inside.
I thought I was prepared to see her for the first time since The Moonlit Current.
I wasn’t.
Disheveled, her dark-brown hair pulled off her face with strands escaping everywhere, she was dressed for battle and looked as if she’d just come from one. Those piercing hazel eyes were trained directly on me, Issa’s expression exactly as I’d imagined it would be. Her lips, fuller than on any woman I’d ever known, parted, as if she would say something to me.
Instead, she turned to Kael and Mev.
It didn’t matter that it had been my fault I’d lost the right to have her look at me the way she did them. This had been a bad idea from the start. But I had known that all along.
“What,” she said, as Kael rose and hugged her, “are you doing here?”
Mev did the same. For my part, I remained seated. Issa was more likely to stab me than hug me, more’s the pity.
“Have you eaten?” she asked them, the wine goblets Master Edric gave us already filled. He was a fine steward and even managed to be cordial to me. Without knowing what Issa had told him, I’d expected a cooler welcome.
“We have been fed,” Mev said, sitting beside the fire in one of four plush chairs that had been arranged before it, the intricately carved, wooden table at the center holding our wine goblets. Even without windows, it was a welcoming space, not unlike the rest of Hawthorne Manor. Issa prided herself on the care she and her staff took to make it a home despite its size. A fortress nearly as large as any in Estmere, it was one of the first built when King Galfrid carved out a portion of his own Aetherian land for the humans.
“I’m uncertain,” Issa said, sitting back, “if I should ask first if the rumors of the two of you are true or”—she looked at me—“how you come to travel with him.”
“Hello, Isolde,” I said, not daring to give her the same sort of smile I once had. Instead, I willed myself to forget how beautiful a woman Issa was. Forget how her lips felt against my own. Pretend she was simply a human noblewoman whose help we needed. “It is good to see you.”
“I cannot say the same.”
“Well.” Mev put her wine back onto the table. “I for one can’t wait to hear what the hell happened between the two of you. Marek told us squat on the way here.” She added, “Sorry, he told us nothing.”
“Squat. That’s a new one,” Kael murmured. “She’s a constant source of surprise,” he added for Issa’s benefit. “And while I can’t account for which rumors you’ve heard, I can tell you Mev and I are partnered. And I did indeed pledge myself to her father.”
Issa didn’t hide her surprise. “Those are the rumors. Would you care to tell me how that happened? The last time I saw the two of you, Princess Mevlida’s name was Mia, she claimed you kidnapped her and
I’m certain,” she said to Mev, “your hair was not white.”
Mev’s side-eye to Kael confirmed part of that as true. “Oh, he kidnapped me alright. Totally rude. Long story short, after we left, I started being able to do strange things and”—she tugged on her hair—“this.”
“Mev knew when she came through the Gate,” Kael said, “that she was King Galfrid’s daughter. And smartly hid the fact from me, for as long as she was able. Hence, Mia.”
“Basically, he fell head over heels for me. An Aetherian noblewoman named Lyra found us and began to train me. The two of them brought me to my father.”
“I’ve heard of her, from Kael.” Issa avoided looking at me, but I couldn’t seem to do the same. Was that blood on her tunic? Had she been injured?
“Prince Kael of Gyoria,” Issa said, her smile to Kael one of warmth, “falling in love with King Galfrid’s daughter. Fate has a way of intervening in mysterious ways. Although I doubt your father appreciates the irony of your current situation. ...
