A growl rumbled low in Channon’s throat. “I have faith in Rayna, but I know her. She’s like you.”
“How do you mean?”
“She’s a warrior who loathes fighting. She wants peace, as desperately as you do. Despite everything that happened last winter, you and Rayna—even Silver—all seem to think there’s a way to stop the fighting.”
“What’s the point of fighting if not to stop it?”
Channon laughed. “Don’t you hear how ridiculous that sounds? You can’t stop a war by fighting it. You can win it, but winning will only create resentment, and given time? Another war.”
“If that’s true, then what’s the point?”
“I don’t know that there is one.” Channon shrugged. “I’ve seen more of this realm—and the realm beneath it—than most. I’ve reached the conclusion that great deeds, heroism, and all of our Fenearen ideals come to nothing in the end. They're dust—as we are. Only one thing matters, and that's finding something that’s worth all the pain and desolation of existence.” Channon turned back to Roxen.
The Beta's hazel eyes had lost their fierceness. “
“Rox, out of everything in this world and any other—out of every nation, creature, or person—only one matters to me, above everything else. So yes, I’d kill an ally, if I thought he were in my way. I’d do anything to find Rayna.”
Roxen sighed. “It isn’t right. It isn’t what she'd want. Be careful, Channon. If you hang on too hard, she might slip through your grasp.” He gestured back to the camp. “Go rest. I’ll take first watch.”
“Whatever you say.” Channon returned to camp to find Pike snoozing.
Gar’s blazing gaze tracked Channon’s return. Everything all right?
Channon prepared his bedroll. Rather than lie, he laid down and closed his eyes.
Chapter Ten
Rayna and Mina sat on a divan where Lord Swann had left them to await Seperun’s arrival. Rayna picked at the yellow cushion on her lap. Like the city surrounding it, the palace had changed. The scent of fresh flowers replaced the rich, spicy incense Rhael's regime had favored. The furnishings in this receiving parlor were less ornate, but far more comfortable. They'd passed several guards, washerwomen, and maids in the corridors leading here, and each of them had greeted the travelers with a bow or friendly smile.
Anhorde was no longer a place of fear.
Katrine boiled over with energy in their new surroundings. She sniffed the gleaming walls, fringed rugs, and wafting curtains. Two men stood at attention by the door, not flinching even when Katrine sniffed them over, too.
Mina sunk deeper into the couch with a yawn as she watched Katrine practically fly around the room.
“Seems this journey has drained your sense of adventure, Mina.” Rayna slung her arm over the divan's back.
“My spirit of adventure is as inexhaustible as ever. My limbs, on the other hand, are feeling the effects of keeping pace with a couple of Fenearens, and being crammed into a carriage for a day and night.”
Rayna laughed as the two guards standing in the archway adjacent to the interior rooms brought their fists to their chests. Rayna and Mina stood.
Seperun entered the chamber, beaming and gallant in floor-length ruby robes.
“Lord Seperun.” Rayna inclined her head.
“Please, Rayna. I am no lord. I'm a farmer’s son acting as regent for his country until she no longer needs my supervision. It is so lovely to see you again, Rayna.” Clasping her hands warmly, he turned to Mina and Katrine. “I do not believe I've had the pleasure, ladies.”
“I’m Katrine Saelia, sir.”
“A beautiful name, my young friend.” Seperun bowed and kissed Katrine’s knuckles.
As Katrine blushed in uncharacteristic silence, Mina took the opportunity to provide her own introduction. “Mignonette Tsanclar. Call me Mina.”
Seperun’s forehead creased before he bowed to her as well. “ If you don’t mind my asking, where are you from, Mina? You don't look Fenearen. If I didn’t know better, with your coloring, I might have mistaken you for a local.”
“I’m Kyrean, sir. Although my allegiances don't lie with the Council,.”
“As a former rebel myself, you are most welcome, Mina. Now, Rayna, I must ask what is your reason for traveling here? Like your uncle before you, I know your heart lies in your homeland.”
“Yes, Seperun.” She took a deep breath. “Silver told me you'd learned of what happened to the remaining Sylrians?”
“Yes. Word of this tragedy has reached me. My heart aches for the men, women, and children the Kyreans have killed and enslaved. But, what does this have to do with you three?”
“While I was in the Outers, Councilor Terayan sought to capture me. A tribe of Sylrians saved Mina and I from certain death. We never would have survived without their help.”
Mina gripped Rayna’s hand.
“Now you wish to repay their bravery and kindness by helping them? But how? How can you expect to find your friends, or free any Sylrians at all?”
“I don’t know exactly,” she admitted.“I know it’s ridiculous and foolish and outright insane,” Rayna could hear Channon’s voice in her head as she pushed forward, “but I cannot stand idly by knowing that my friends and innocent Sylrians are in peril. I have to try and help. More than that, I’ve been having dreams about one of the captured Sylrians. I think the gods want me to do this—to save as many Sylrians as I can.”
At the mention of her dreams, Seperun’s eyebrows rose with interest. “You say you’re dreaming of one of these captured Sylrians? What else has Lumae communicated to you?”
Rayna hesitated. She hoped Seperun would agree with her interpretation of the limited view she had. “I—haven’t seen much else. My dreams have been clouded as of late.”
“Clouded?”
“Aye. I think perhaps, after everything that happened…” She trailed off, hoping Seperun would take her meaning.
He stroked his chin. “I suppose recent events could have affected your connection to the veil, but I'm no expert on such matters.”
“What of the Resistance’s mage?” Rayna asked. “Davin Dantes? Is he not such an expert? He's the one that told Coer about the Eye of Heaven.”
Seperun smiled at Davin’s name. “Indeed he might. I will send him a message.”
“He isn’t here?” Katrine asked. “I’d like to meet a mage.”
“No.” Seperun frowned. “I’m afraid he's otherwise occupied. As the only born mage in Maenor, he is needed at the Cult.”
“The Cult?” The hairs rose along Rayna’s neck. “Do you mean the Cult of Demetrian? Rhael’s family?” She had not considered what would happen to Rhael’s children and female relatives. Usually, an Overlord’s passing signaled a fight to the death between his sons, but surely Seperun had stopped that?
“Davin is using his magic to keep those loyal to Rhael in check. But, that is a rather sensitive topic best left for another time, given your own current predicament. I want to help you in whatever way I can. My resources are spread thin but, I can secure your passage to Halmstead, if that is your wish.”
“Thank you,” Rayna stammered. Her thoughts spun with images of dark-haired children with black-and-yellow eyes. She swallowed.
Seperun smiled, creating arcs all over his handsome, brown face. “I only wish that I could do more. We're allied nations now. The Kyreans are our enemy. They have destroyed a peaceful culture. We're all fools if we do not realize that the Peninsula is next.” He paused. “I do this for you Rayna Hex Breaker, because you are a remarkable woman. But I also do this to send a message to the Kyrean Republic. We are unified, we are strong, and when they rise against us, we shall destroy them, as one.”
Rayna, Mina, and Katrine stood in stunned silence as they took in Seperun’s indomitable resolve. Rayna recalled Seperun's battle prowess. His kindness belied a warrior unmatched in ferocity. She was proud to have him not just as an ally, but as a friend.
; Seperun’s expression returned to its normal softness. “In return, might you consider doing me the honor of staying the night here? I'm hosting a state dinner tonight, and I would be overjoyed to have Fenearens and a Kyrean rebel represented.”
Rayna considered the request. Swann had assured them his men would lead Channon and the others in the wrong direction, and she hadn't scented them at all the last day of their journey. Still, Rayna wanted to move as quickly as she could. Channon and the others were smart. They would not be fooled forever. But Katrine and Mina were exhausted—as was she. Perhaps one night spent in comfort would be for the best—even if it meant having to endure Maenoren cuisine.
With a nod from Katrine and Mina, Rayna turned to Seperun. “We would be happy to attend your dinner.”
He clasped his hands together. “Wonderful! Errol, Dosson,” he spoke to the guards, “would you be so kind as to escort these ladies to the east tower’s guest suite? I must go oversee preparations and arrivals for tonight’s dinner.”
The guards saluted and gestured for the women to follow them into the castle’s interior.
“I will have fresh attire sent to your rooms shortly. My lieutenants, Cassian Libera and Daveed Junian, and your friend Lord Swann will fetch you when it’s time.” Seperun disappeared down a corridor as they followed Errol and Dosson to the palace’s east wing.
Gone were the tapestries and portraits of various Demetrian ancestors Rayna remembered. Instead, bright landscapes and curtains adorned the black walls. They rounded a corner and a large painting caught Rayna’s eye. The plaque beside it read, “Our Alvornian Allies Arrive.” It depicted the Alvornian reinforcements entering the battle for the Southern Densite, complete with Rayna, Channon, Gar, and Mina at the front lines.
“A new addition,” Errol said with a smile. “One of my favorites.”
“I can see why.” Katrine's brown eyes widened. “I wish I'd been there.”
Mina and Rayna exchanged a glance. “It’s a beautiful painting,” said Rayna, “but I’m afraid the reality was far less so.”
“Well said, Miss Myana.” Dosson led the way to a door opening to a spiral staircase. It wasn’t the same tower Rayna’s quarters had been in, but it reminded her anyway.
When they reached the suite of rooms crowning the tower, Errol and Dosson bowed.
“If you need anything, please do not hesitate to find someone,” said Dosson.
“And feel free to explore if you’d like,” Errol added, with a quick glance at Rayna. Perhaps he sensed her discomfort and wanted to put her at ease. “Just make sure you’re back in time to ready for dinner.”
“I doubt we’re in the mood for exploring, but thank you.” Mina as she collapsed onto a silky violet chaise.
Once the men had left, Rayna followed Katrine to the balcony.
“It must be strange,” said Katrine as they peered over the terrace edge, “being back here.”
The view overlooked Anhorde’s central gardens. The plants within were heavy with flowers and fruit. Their fragrance sweetened the cool evening air.
To the north, past the castle’s inner walls, Rayna saw the sculpture garden where she and Coer had gone the day he died. “It is. But I’m glad to see Anhorde like this.”
“Like what?”
“Free.” She inhaled deeply.
“It is sort of beautiful,” said Katrine. “Too closed-in for my tastes, but pretty in its own way. I wish we had more time here.” The sun was setting, bathing everything in orange light. Katrine’s tan skin and brown hair shone like burnished copper. She looked young, whole, and unblemished.
Rayna brought her hand to her own scarred cheek. Four gashes ran the length of her face’s left side. The last mark crossed her lips, twisting the bottom lip in a slight grimace. For a non-Fenearen, the scar would've been a devastating disfigurement. To Rayna, it was a reminder of everything she'd overcome. It joined the parallel scars on her ribs and abdomen—one a gift from Rhael, the other from Gabriel Garrison of the Kyrean Council Guard. Countless other bumps and marks formed a tapestry of experience on her skin. She could not see her reflection without being reminded of her past traumas.
But Katrine’s scars were different. They could not be seen, but Rayna knew well that invisible scars were the most painful. Katrine had lost her family, her packmates, and everyone she'd ever known in the war. They were rebuilding the Northern Densite that Katrine had once called home, but Rayna knew Katrine would never return there. Despite her energetic personality, Katrine was already broken inside. Rayna did not want to see her hurt again.
“Katrine. Stay here in Maenor until Mina and I return.”
“What?”
Rayna swallowed. This would be a fight, but she had to try. “You don’t know the Sylrians. I realize you want to help but, you’ll be safe here.”
“And let you two have all the fun? Not a chance.” Katrine blew a stray hair from her face.
“What we’re doing isn’t fun. It’s reckless. You have your whole life ahead of you—”
“Rayna,” Katrine said seriously, “you’re only three years older than me. You have your whole life, too. Why can you choose to do something brave, but not me?”
“The Sylrians, they’re a part of my pack. I can’t abandon them, but you—”
“Aren’t I a part of your pack, too?”
“Of course! That’s why I want you to be safe.”
To Rayna’s surprise, Katrine smiled. “You know who you sound like right now, right?” When Rayna didn’t answer, Katrine continued with a laugh. “Your aunt. Didn’t you say she wanted keep you safe?”
Rayna could not argue with that. “I understand Silver’s position, but I can’t honor it.”
“And I understand yours.” Katrine patted her arm. “But sorry, not honoring it, either.” She headed back inside and Rayna followed. That had not gone as she'd hoped.
Mina snored on the chaise. Katrine sniffed out a plate of meats, cheese, and grapes in the adjoining room and brought it back to share. She sat on the floor and Rayna leaned against Mina’s chaise.
Katrine eyed the cheese suspiciously, before taking a tiny bite. Rayna laughed as Katrine immediately coughed it back up into a napkin and reached for a slice of ham instead.
“Tip for tonight’s dinner,” said Rayna. “If you think that cheese tastes rotten, avoid the wine.”
“Ick.” Katrine smacked her lips. “They put spices on the ham.”
“Welcome to Maenor.” Rayna smiled.
A little while later, Mina woke and polished off what was left of the food—namely cheese and grapes. The sound of footsteps echoed up the tower before three young Maenoren women entered, each carrying an armful of dresses.
Rayna and the others stood, helping the Maenorens lay each of the dresses out on the bed. Once their faces were un-obscured by mounds of silk and lace, Rayna exhaled in shock. She recognized the Maenoren women as the handmaidens once assigned to her.
“My lady,” said the shortest of the three. Rayna remembered her as the bravest of the group. “Do you remember us?”
“Yes, of course.” Rayna looked away. “I owe you three an apology.”
“My lady?”
“Please, call me Rayna.” She moved toward them. She was not surprised when one of them—a pretty, round-faced girl—flinched away. “I treated you poorly when I was here last. I frightened you. I’m sorry.”
“My lady—er—Rayna,” said the first girl. “You owe us nothing. You had every right to be angry when last you were here. We understand.”
“I had every right to be angry with my situation, and with Rhael, but you three did nothing but try to prepare me for my role as queen. I was ungrateful, and for that I apologize.”
They nodded, pink touching their cheeks.
“If it's all right, I'd like to start over?”
“Of course!” The shortest smiled. “I’m Mirabelle, this is my sister Tamarin.” Mirabelle and the round-faced Tamarin curtsied. Mirabelle gestured to
their companion, a younger, curly-haired girl. “And this is our cousin, Candela.”.
“Nice to meet you all. I’m Mina.” Mina turned her attention to the dresses, grinning with excitement.
Katrine introduced herself and joined Mina's inspection with notably less enthusiasm.
Mirabelle, Tamarin, and Candela had lain out four dress options for each of them. Each attendant took their place beside one of them.
Mirabelle stood next to Rayna, pointing out each of the gowns.
Rayna did not relish wearing Maenoren garments again. They didn't allow for easy shifting like her leather and fur clothing did. Only fabrics made from animal skins melded into her wolf form. The silk, cotton, and lace before her would only result in her being tangled in sleeves and skirts if she tried to shift. At least these dresses were cut more loosely than those she’d been forced to wear as Rhael’s betrothed, and there were no corsets in sight.
“This first one is so soft and smooth, it’d be like wearing water.” Mirabelle ran her hands over the silvery-blue fabric. “This one here is more traditional.” She moved her hand to a high-necked, lacy gown. “Probably too stuffy for you, though.” She set it aside and turned her attention to the third. “To be honest, this one is more befitting a courtesan, and we don’t have those anymore of course.”
“You don’t?” Rayna remembered well one courtesan—Rhael’s personal favorite, Morna Helena.
“Well, nothing bad happened to them of course!” Mirabelle giggled. “They’ve been reassigned to different roles. The Regent does not approve of many of the old Demetrian ways. He’d prefer all Maenorens, men and women alike, have the same opportunities.” She beamed,
Rayna returned the smile. Months before, she'd all but ignored her attendants. Her oppression had blinded their humanity from her. But it seemed like these young women genuinely loved working at the palace, especially now that the leadership had shifted. Rayna may not have cared for fabrics, face paint, or embroidery, but that didn’t mean that women who did were beneath her. “I’m glad to hear it.”
“Indeed, my lady.” Mirabelle lifted the fourth gown for Rayna’s inspection.
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