Imber

by Tyffany Hackett

  The sound of tinkling silverware and clattering porcelain filled the room. I chanced a glance toward Jyn who gave me a drawn smile. Lucian pushed an elbow into my side casually. He shoved a bite of food into his mouth at the same time, and I glared.

  “Sorry,” he said a moment later. “You did that?”

  “Did what?”

  “Petitioned the Council for your mother?”

  I tapped my fork on the edge of my plate. “I had to. I didn’t feel like there was a choice. Raising two girls, losing my father, ruling the kingdom alone . . . she deserves a modicum of peace.”

  Lucian nodded. “You’re going to be an amazing leader.”

  “Here’s hoping.” I took two large swallows of my wine.

  “You’ve got the will of a queen.” Helyna’s pale blue eyes locked onto me from under the silver white wisps of hair that hung in her face. She was soft spoken, and her voice was only slightly more than a whisper when she added, “I daresay you’ll even find a way to manage the speeches.”

  Lucian’s face scrunched in confusion, but Helyna didn’t specify. She knew about the panic that overtook me prior to engagement with large crowds. Her advice had helped me to the point I was at now. When I turned eighteen, Mother had thrown me a birthday celebration. Helyna accidentally walked in on me as I sobbed and gasped on the floor. Jyn had asked her to leave, and she’d done so without argument. As she left, she told him to try to focus me. To get me to breathe. We had worked for months to get into the routine we had now.

  I smiled at her. She pondered my face a few seconds more before she inclined her head and turned back to her plate. I wasn’t sure what she’d decided in her short appraisal, and she’d never tell. This was the way of things with Helyna. Wyatt was her polar opposite—he had no issue speaking his mind, even if doing so caused offense.

  Mother seemed more at ease as dinner went on. Her posture relaxed, and I wondered if she’d been worried that the others would judge her for my decisions. At the very least, telling them seemed to have given her a measure of relief. Or perhaps her ease was courtesy of the ever full glass of wine clutched in her hand.

  The only person that spoke louder than her was Drask. He and Wyatt were having a colorful debate about the trade situation with Kalum, and even though I knew I should care at least a little, I was utterly disinterested.

  “ . . . you and Natylia ran into the forest and Jyn couldn’t find you all day?”

  I looked up at my name and narrowed my eyes at my sister. Lucian laughed beside me.

  “What nonsense are you spouting?” I asked her. She giggled.

  “Lucian and I are reminiscing about what a problem child you were.”

  Lucian lifted his hands. “I laughed, I didn’t partake.”

  “You’re both still problem children, what are you talking about?” I snorted at the look on Annalea’s face.

  “But I’m older than you.” Lucian shifted away from me in his chair as he said the words. “You can’t deny the truth.”

  He was saved by the interruption of the servants who came to clear the table. Desserts were laid out, and I filled my plate with sweet crackers, cakes, and pudding before I leaned back to watch the others as I ate. Lucian and Annalea had changed topics, now discussing a new silk imported from Evenlea. I smirked at the way she kept nervously twirling a strand of hair around her fingers. Helyna and Mother were in quiet conversation about one of the art galleries in town and every now and then Mother would cringe when the noble woman unconsciously cracked her knuckles.

  The prince rapped his fingertips on the table next to me, and after he’d done so a few times, I started to wonder if he was bored or attempting to draw my attention. I dared a glance at him and he met my eyes with a smile, but I wasn’t sure what to say so I simply sipped at my wine and smiled back.

  Jyn had long ago slipped into the kitchens, and I knew he was almost completely at ease with that very Numyra guard he’d scoffed at on his way in. The guard barely twitched, even under the weight of a full set of armor. His color-changing eyes were watchful of every movement, though, sliding back and forth in near-constant motion.

  When the servants began to pour the after-dinner drinks, I excused myself. I knew Mother would expect that I stayed around for the chatter, but I was tired and wanted to see how Jyn was doing. One of the servants offered to fetch him from the kitchens as I said goodnight to each person. I took extra pains to wish the ones leaving in the morning safe travels—the nobles would likely leave before dawn even broke and Mother had offered to attend their departures. A small relief, but nothing in comparison to the nerves that fluttered through my stomach when she tugged Jyn off to one side. I turned when Drask stood, excusing himself long enough to pull me aside. I didn’t bother to hide the confusion on my face.

  “While your mother occupies your companion, I thought I might take a moment and ask how you’re doing?”

  “I’m well, thank you for asking.”

  He grinned. Lucian had inherited that from his father—the smiles were an identical match. “No, my dear, I meant as queen. How do you feel?”

  “Overwhelmed.” I laughed, but Drask nodded. I wasn’t entirely surprised that he’d taken the time to check. Kathryn and Drask had been even more involved in our lives after the passing of my father. Him especially, who had always been somewhat distant.

  “A kingdom is a lot to take on at first, but after a while, things get easier.” He smiled. “If you ever need anything, don’t hesitate to send word. Wydus will always come to the aid of Thrais.”

  “And us to you, Your Majesty.”

  “I’ve said this once, but allow me to reiterate. Drask is fine, my dear. You are my equal.” His eyes twinkled before he dropped into a deep bow, stepping away to accept a drink from his wife. I glanced to where Jyn and Mother stood. All I could make out was a stream of furious whispers and the tight-set line of Jyn’s jaw as the muscles clenched before he gave a sharp nod.

  ***

  We managed to get all the way upstairs and close the door before Jyn started into long strides that spanned the length of the room. He paused long enough to take a deep breath before he began to speak, spitting his thoughts out so quickly I wasn’t able to follow. He let out of a long string of curses, his fists clenched and brows furrowed.

  “Jyn, you’re not making sense.”

  He shoved his hair back from where the locks had fallen onto his face. “She wants a permanent alliance between the kingdoms. She wants you married, respectably, because she’s always considered you a problem child.”

  “I don’t understand.”

  “If you’re in an approved relationship, the Council and your people will be far less harsh if you make a mistake. Or if you act rashly, which seems more likely. She’s hoping that she can push you into choosing to marry Lucian on your own, but she wants the marriage arranged either way. Your feelings be damned.” He clenched his teeth, growling, “What’s really infuriating is her willingness to risk your safety and inhibit my position for a wedding.”

  “I could marry Scarlet.” I wagged an eyebrow at him.

  Jyn’s wild movements stilled completely and his expression darkened. “Don’t even joke about marrying into that family.”

  I hesitated and bit back my sarcastic retort. Jyn’s hands shook at his sides and he growled in frustration.

  “Kalum is no place for you, Princess,” he said tightly. He let his steps carry him to the fireplace and jabbed at the wood with a poker. “You have a good heart and a rare soul. I don’t care to see that tainted by the likes of the Southern Kingdom.”

  “I’ve met the Kalum royalty, Jyn. They were a bit . . . high strung. But Audri and Phelix seemed decent enough.”

  “The less you have to associate with that family, the better. Trust me on this. I haven’t heard a kind word about Audri as long as I’ve been out of Eurylia, and even the Elves didn’t flatter them. I can’t imagine her husband or her spawn are any better.”

  I shook my
fingers through my hair and loosed a breath. I had questions, but I wasn’t sure now was the time to ask. Jyn’s eyes warily traced over my face but after a moment he dropped into the plush chair across from my bed. I tilted my head. He didn’t react.

  “You know, I don’t even know Lucian. Not really. We were friends when we were children, but so many years have passed. He’s charming and handsome, sure, but I’m not picking out a dress and writing a guest list. Even if that is what Mother wants. I’m not marrying someone for politics.”

  Again, I was met with silence. I shrugged and grabbed a set of cotton nightclothes from my wardrobe. The bathing chamber was empty at this time of night, but there was still a basin of clean water I could use to wash up.

  I wasn’t interested in actively pursuing Lucian. To be honest, he didn’t pull my attention at all. I understood the merits and benefits to marrying him, but . . . I didn’t want to marry for my kingdom. Willingly, I would give all I could to my people. I didn’t think myself so terrible for not compromising on the person I had to spend the rest of my life with. Have children with. Didn’t Mother think I had enough on my plate, what with everything I had yet to learn, guests, and ceremonies?

  Jyn was in a straighter position when I returned and had pulled his hair back into a leather tie. One of his daggers was in his hand, and he twirled the blade between his fingers, his eyes narrowed in concentration. I jumped into my bed and settled against the headboard. The legs of my pants brushed my ankles. I rolled them up.

  “You can do better,” he said finally.

  “I can do worse.”

  Jyn shrugged. “Maybe. Make the choice for yourself though. Don’t let anyone take your choices from you.”

  “Is there something else? You seem preoccupied.”

  The blade stopped, the point precariously tilted on his middle finger. Jyn stared at the silvery metal, then clenched the blade into his palm.

  “Do you really want to learn archery? From Lucian?”

  “He’s only here for a few more days, but yes, since no one else can teach me.”

  “I can, but I won’t.” Jyn glanced up at me. “Your mother has insisted that you get the lessons. Ironic, considering how long you’ve been asking for them. Either way, let me do my job. Please. I went mad waiting for you to come back today. After last night, I can’t imagine what is in her mind leaving you unarmed like that.”

  “Jyn—”

  He held up a calloused palm. “Your mother insists that I leave you and Lucian be. If he or you request that I leave, I am to leave immediately. At the surrender of my position.”

  “She can’t do that. I’m the queen. At the surrender of your position?”

  “Until the Council has tested your knowledge of the kingdom, she still retains a great deal of power. She can do what she wants. For now.” Jyn stood and did another lap of the room to check all the door and window locks. For a moment, I thought those were to be his last words on the subject, but then he said softly, “Yes, at the surrender of my position.”

  Chapter 8

  I was sticky, sweaty, and wanted nothing more than to beat the smug expression off Camion’s face. He had been absolutely right in his assumptions that the swap to weighted metal blades would exhaust me. The weapon was awkward and heavy in my hand, even despite the fact that he swore the blade was one of the lightest metals he could craft with.

  When I swiped the blade at him in annoyance, my swing was clumsy and underhanded. He easily deflected with a click of his tongue.

  “Is this really what you’ve come to?”

  He didn’t deserve a real response. I grunted. His blade slashed toward me, a short sword identical to the one I wielded. Instead of an appropriate retaliation, I promptly dropped to my stomach, completely avoiding his attack and rolled onto my back. My sword clattered onto the wooden floor next to me.

  We decided to practice in the ballroom since the room was the largest unused space available. Mother would be absolutely livid if she thought we might scratch the floor, but even Camion wasn’t cruel enough to make me practice in the torrential downpour that waited outside. I wasn’t about to cancel my lesson either. So here we were.

  My muscles screamed in agony, even as I laid splayed out on the floor. Jyn approached with a glass of water, and I stared up at him before opening my mouth pointedly.

  “This is really sad.” Jyn crouched to dribble water into my mouth. The cold liquid spilled over onto my cheek and throat. Camion moved to join him, both faces filled with judgment. I glared up at them.

  “This is what happens when you don’t begin sword training until you’re eighteen.” Camion wasn’t accusing, merely stating fact. I still took the glass from Jyn and threw the remnants of water into his face.

  “Temper temper,” he clucked with a laugh.

  Jyn shifted slightly to his left in an attempt to block my view of the water that still remained in the pitcher. He didn’t seem to realize that getting to the pitcher required energy that I wasn’t inclined to exert at the moment. I watched Camion wipe his face with the neck of his shirt. He shook his head, spraying me with droplets of water.

  “If you two are just going to mock me, I’m sure I could find someone else to teach me,” I grumbled.

  Amusement lined Camion’s expression but Jyn was the one who said, “Your mother wouldn’t allow that. Guess you’ll have to suck it up.”

  “My mother would rather I not learn at all, so that’s always an option. Or I could ask Lucian. You know how Mother loves him.”

  Jyn pursed his lips and shook his head. He shot a subtle glance at Camion’s unreadable expression. “No, I’m really not so sure about that one. I already have to let him teach you archery. I don’t think I could manage swordplay too.”

  “You don’t like him?” Camion asked, eyes locked on Jyn.

  My guard shifted uncomfortably. “I don’t know him, I don’t trust him, and I don’t care for the way he looks at her.”

  “Jyn, maybe he’s not so bad. Give him a chance. And what do you mean, how he looks at me?”

  Jyn gave me a long look before he shrugged. “I don’t like him.”

  I blinked. When Jyn waved a hand at me, I changed targets. “What about you?”

  “Keep me out of this. I don’t know the guy.” Camion rubbed a hand over his neck. A slight glint of silver caught my eye by his neck, a chain if I guessed right. I debated asking him but he added, “Though, I generally trust Jyn.”

  “So, you don’t like Lucian either?”

  “I didn’t say that.” Trying to read his expression was impossible. He opened and closed his mouth once before he said, “We should get back to your lesson.”

  I huffed, dropping a measured gaze on Jyn. He met my eyes and crossed his arms over his chest, raising his brows. I stomped my foot, a childish taunt that made him laugh before he tossed me my sword.

  Another hour went by. I tried desperately not to impale myself on the sharpened blade. Camion’s swift blows patted my leathers over and over. He turned his sword before each hit connected, so only the flat of the blade actually made contact, but my pride was wounded all the same. A year we’d been training, and he still put me through my paces. Switching to a more solid weapon had only made my life more difficult.

  It was slightly gratifying to see that Camion’s shaggy hair clung to his forehead as tightly as my own locks did as they fell free of my braid.

  This time when Jyn handed me a glass of water, I drained the contents. I slumped to the floor to watch Camion clean the swords after I filled the glass once more. He opened a tiny flask of lavender oil and the scent filled the room. The floral tones hit a familiar note in my mind, and I realized that I recognized them from where they always lingered on Camion himself. Lavender and wood smoke. Not an altogether unpleasant combination. My heart fluttered.

  No.

  I was not about to entertain those thoughts. Not about this man, nor any other. Heartbreak wasn’t my forte.

  Camion had sheathed t
he blades before he noticed my stare, an eyebrow lifting in question. I flushed and shook my head, glancing away. My lower lip slipped between my teeth. I wasn’t about to tell him I found him interesting to watch, that he had a meticulous way of doing things that gave me questions I couldn’t find a way to ask—even of myself.

  I stood to brush off my leathers. This set was brown, worn from use, and had been custom fitted to my form. The outfit was another part of these lessons that Mother abhorred—and thus, I further delighted in.

  Jyn had leaned back against the wall, his expression completely blank. To any passerby he would seem attentive, watchful, but his eyes were unfocused and he was clearly lost in thought. I vaguely wondered what was going through his mind when I glanced up at Camion.

  “Hey. Thanks for the lesson,” I said.

  A half smile curved his lips when he dipped his head. Camion liked to tease, but usually he was relatively quiet. I found myself wondering about all the things he chose not to say. What he really thought of these lessons, the palace, Jyn, me . . .

  “So,” he said, interrupting my thoughts, “I meant to ask you the night of the ball—what is that?”

  He pointed to the large mural on the back wall.

  “Mother says it’s a depiction of the Ancients. Though I’m not sure which ones, and there’s never been anything that mentioned Valdis as being such an ominous figure.” I jerked my chin toward the cloaked person, a figure I was assuming to be the Ancient of the Nether. “Plus, most people use “fiery” to describe Nahara and that doesn’t seem to fit any of these . . .”