Sovereign Sieged

by Sarah E. Burr

  Nodding, George’s arm moved to her waist, taking the brunt of her weight as he maneuvered them toward the throne room. “The scout I sent ahead to announce your arrival rallied my most seasoned officers stationed here. They’ll be waiting for us, ready to protect you should you detect a traitor among your court.”

  Conserving her energy, Jax did not respond, but she let herself relax just a bit. While part of her feared someone she trusted had betrayed her, she had a hard time believing it. Not one single courtier knew the full extent of her plans, merely that she would be leaving the duchy for a time in disguise. When they had asked for more details, her deadly stare had promptly silenced them.

  As Jax and George entered the regal hall, the last glimmer of dying sunlight glinted off the ornate gold throne at the head of the cavernous room. The sight struck an ominous chord in Jax as she made her way down the long aisle to claim her rightful place.

  As she ascended the platform to her throne, George remained at the foot of the dais. “I want to supervise Olavo while he’s moved into a secure hold, but I’ll be back here shortly.” He pointed to the shadowy figures stationed around the room. “You are well protected, Duchess. I shan’t be long.”

  As she sank into the silk cushion covering the hard, chilly gold frame, Jax held her hand up to halt her Captain. “Bring Olavo here, please. I want to give my advisors the chance to question him.”

  George bowed his head. “I’ll summon your council.”

  With brisk, determined steps, the Captain of the Ducal Guard disappeared through an unassuming side door, leaving Jax alone…or as alone as she would ever be, surrounded by twenty faceless guardsmen.

  A hush of evening shadows stretched across the room, as the sconces remained unlit. In a rush to prepare for her arrival, the palace staff had overlooked this space. She didn’t mind the darkness, though. Draping over her like a coronation robe, the inky shadows hid the strain of her regal mask. As she sat there, her resolve began to crack, thinking about all that lay ahead. The advent of night concealed the desperate ache in her eyes, signs of how much she missed her husband. The darkness obscured her trembling limbs, wracked with nerves, revealing her weakness. She had but moments to pull herself together before her advisors arrived.

  The main doors creaked open, snapping Jax’s attention into focus. From the shadows, a slender figure emerged, carrying a small tray in one hand and a torch in the other.

  “George thought you needed a little liquid courage before the council pounced on you.” Vita’s lilting accent floated through the darkness like a purring panther. One by one, she lit the sconces, the room sparking to life with renewed vigor. As she moved to each lamp, her treasured ruby shoes echoed delicately on the moon-white stone. Once she’d completed her task as light bearer, she delivered a silver goblet into Jax’s outstretched hands.

  The honeyed mead tingled her nostrils as she inhaled the sweet, yet tangy aroma. “Goodness, one sip of this might put me to sleep.”

  Vita laughed. “Would that be so bad? You must be exhausted, Duquessa.”

  Jax leaned her head back against the throne, swirling her goblet around. “I could say the same of you. We’ve all had a long journey.”

  A slim, dark eyebrow rose over Vita’s glittering gold eyes. “I am not the person who carries the fate of the world on her shoulders.” A sly smile spread across the woman’s olive skin. “I merely keep her dressed.”

  The playful words tugged Jax’s lips upward. Noticing a roll of parchment protruding from a pocket in Vita’s skirts, she nodded her head in its direction. “Is that for me?”

  Vita reached for the scroll. “Oh no. It’s a note from home. I suppose my parents have been wondering what I’ve been up to this past month.”

  A twinge of regret nipped at Jax. Due to the secrecy required for their trip to the Oasis, Jax hadn’t given her friends much warning that they would be leaving the palace for a time. She hoped Vita’s family had not worried too gravely over their daughter’s lack of response to their letter. What unfortunate timing, since Vita so seldom received messages from home. “Then please, don’t let me hold you up any longer. Why don’t you write your parents and use one of the crowned falcons to carry your note to them? That way, it will be in their hands by morning.”

  Vita blushed at the offering. “But I thought the falcons were only used for official state business?”

  Jax scoffed. “A mandate my great-grandfather only put into place when he discovered one of his courtiers was monopolizing the flock to send love notes to his many mistresses.” She giggled as Vita’s face registered shock. “It will be our little secret, though. I’m sure Charles would only be too eager to use the birds to send notes to that librarian he seems sweet on.” Jax remembered the last time she had caught her court physician daydreaming about a young woman he’d met at the grand library in Saphire’s capital city.

  At the mention of the healer, Vita’s eyes squinted. “I don’t recall seeing Charles among the faces at the welcome in the courtyard.”

  “I’m sure while we’ve been away, he’s been helping Lady Giovanna whenever possible. He might be a physician, but he grew up in a talented household, and I suspect, knows a thing or two about the theater.” Having met the Montivarius siblings during a sea-bound voyage a few seasons ago, Jax succeeded in convincing her friends to relocate from Hestes to Saphire this past spring. Charles, a recent graduate of the Academy, had been appointed her interim royal physician, due to Master Vyanti’s departure to Isla DeLacqua to ensure the isles were well cared for, and Lady Giovanna had been working with Perry to build a grand playhouse where her acting troupe would perform. “I must send word to Giovanna that we have returned. Perhaps she and Charles can join us for dinner tomorrow.”

  Vita absently fondled the scroll in her hands. “Focus on the task ahead of you now, Duquessa. Uma and I will sort out your correspondences.” With a little curtsy, she glided toward the doorway. “Good luck, Jax. We’ll be waiting for your report at dinner.”

  As her lady’s maid vanished into the gaping castle, several elegantly robed men and women appeared in her place. “Duchess Jacqueline, you have returned to us safely. May the Virtues be praised,” Courtier Monelle rejoiced, speaking for the gathered group.

  Jax smiled warmly at the youngest courtier in her service, a bright, engaging young woman from one of Saphire’s outer villages. “I am glad to be home.” She motioned them all closer to her throne.

  One of the more tenured courtiers in the group, a man by the name of Gavant, let a look of displeasure eclipse his wrinkled face. “I hope you plan to tell us what you’ve been up to, Your Grace. We’ve barely heard from you since you departed on your little sojourn.”

  Jax, like her father before her, had always encouraged her courtiers to be frank and open, so she did not reprimand Gavant for his biting comment. “I’m sorry to have kept you all in the dark for so long, but I felt that I had no other choice.”

  “Why? What are we up against, Duchess?” sputtered Courtier LaRouge, one of her father’s longest serving advisors. “You barely gave us any details about where you were heading and why, and now you’ve returned to us under the protection of an army.”

  Jax sighed, stalling for time. “I departed Saphire,” she began, “with the intention to visit a Kwatalarian resort with my husband, to finally take some time to celebrate our union. For my security, we assumed false identities, portraying a lord and lady from a Mensina family.”

  “And you purposefully chose not to tell us anything other than you were leaving Saphire in disguise?” Courtier Monelle’s amber eyes shone with hurt as the others in her audience issued a collective intake of breath.

  “For my safety, I wanted to involve as few people as possible,” Jax explained. “Besides this group, the only other person within all of Saphire who knew I planned to leave was Master Montivarius, as I required a special dye to conceal my eye color.” Her amethyst gaze met that of each of her courtiers. “Even Charles did not kn
ow which duchy I was setting off to. I must ask you all to forgive me for the deception.”

  Courtier Gavant crossed his arms. “If you left court to enjoy a romantic getaway with your husband, Duchess, why have you returned looking grimmer than ever and without Lord Percival?”

  A dark smile formed on Jax’s lips. “Nothing ever seems to go according to plan, now does it?” She rubbed her temples, a dull ache throbbing beneath, before proceeding to share with her advisors about the events that had befallen her at Ogdam Oasis, how Duchess Tandora had betrayed Saphire and aligned with Beautraud and Savant, how their assassination plot had been foiled by the death of an innocent man, and how she’d traveled to the Duchy of Pettraud to seek protection among allies. “And most surprising of all?” She couldn’t help but chuckle at the stunned expressions of her courtiers. “Perry is no longer Prince Consort, but the newly crowned Duke of Pettraud.”

  Courtier LaRouge was not the only one in the group nervously wringing his hands. “Could you not have sent word warning us of all this?”

  Jax let the question settle into a long, pointed silence.

  “She didn’t trust that she hadn’t been betrayed from within.” Monelle’s words were spoken with a tremor. Pain etched into the young woman’s features as she addressed Jax. “You didn’t trust that your own court hadn’t deceived you.”

  Jax assessed the wary group before her. “You are correct, Monelle. I couldn’t ignore the chance that one of you had unearthed the details surrounding my plan to visit Ogdam Oasis and sold me out to our enemies.”

  Courtier LaRouge lifted his chin, his golden gaze a lance of steel. “And do you believe that to be the case, Duchess? Is there one among us that you suspect?”

  Jax examined every inch of her court, taking in the trickling sweat on confused brows and trembling limbs, but lingering her sharp gaze on every pair of eyes. She spent moments lost in her instincts, trying to wheedle the truth from those frozen stares. “No, I don’t,” she said at last, releasing her courtiers from the analytical spell she’d held over them. They sagged with relief before her. “But I still am unsure how Duchess Tandora discovered my itinerary. There is a chance my grandfather—”

  “Your Grace!” Monelle interrupted her, digging her hands deep into the pockets of her courtier robes. “Yesterday morning, this message arrived from one of your grandfather’s carrier hawks.” She pulled out a tightly folded piece of parchment, still sealed with Mensina’s crest.

  Taking the note, Jax unfolded it with haste, eager for information.

  Jacqueline,

  Pettraud’s raven ferrying your War Council summons arrived merely hours after his winded messenger bearing your briefing about your stay at Ogdam Oasis. I can only assume the War Council has been called to demand retribution from Tandora, Savant, and Beautraud for their attempt to end your life. When I read about the plot you uncovered in Kwatalar, I couldn’t fathom how Tandora learned of your travels, as we were so careful to conceal your plans. In search of answers, I sent my most elite guards to the estate I own in Tandora, only to find Delphinia’s spies camped at its front gates. My men apprehended them and were able to weasel out of the bastards that Delphinia had intercepted my first missive detailing your disguise of Lady Victoire Rapaste. She killed the man carrying it. She knew, I suppose, longer than you did, who I’d arranged for you to portray during your holiday, which is how she was able to set such an elaborate scheme into motion. I give endless thanks to the Virtues that she failed, although my heart aches that it was my own message she intercepted that gave her the information. I hope you and the family of the poor lad can forgive my foolishness for placing such important documents in the hands of an unarmed messenger. In all the growing chaos, it did not cross my mind to question why I never saw him again. Delphinia will pay for his death.

  Regarding your request that I travel to Saphire to meet you and plan for the War Council, I am afraid I must decline your invitation. After learning the lengths Tandora, Beautraud, and Savant are willing to go to, it is best for me to stay holed up in my keep. You will need allies by your side during the War Council, my dear, and I will do you no good if I am dead. I apologize if my actions seem cowardly, but I need to stay out of the crosshairs of our enemies until we all enter the War Council on neutral ground.

  I await your next communication, in hopes you have reached Saphire safely.

  Yours,

  Grand-Père

  Jax released the letter, letting it float to her lap. Her knuckles whitened with hot rage and sorrow. First Tarek Killiam, now this young messenger. Yet another innocent person had lost their life on this savage quest her enemies had undertaken. Delphinia would pay for her treachery. Tandora would be brought to her knees.

  “What news comes from Mensina, Your Grace?” Monelle’s tone was gentle, clearly reading the pain lining Jax’s face.

  Jax handed the courtier the letter, allowing her advisors the time to huddle around and read it. “I want to know the Mensinian messenger’s name.” Her stony command was met with nods of agreement. “I must reach out to his family and ensure they are provided for.”

  Courtier Gavant pushed his spectacles up the bridge of his long, crooked nose. “Can we trust that your grandfather writes the truth?”

  Considering Saphire’s tumultuous history with Duke Mensina in the years before Jax took the crown, she understood Gavant’s concern. “We have to. If we are to emerge from whatever storm lies ahead, I need to give my trust over fully to my allies.”

  “Then what is our next move?” LaRouge asked.

  Rising from her chair, Jax descended to the dais, placing herself at eye level with the assembled courtiers. “We wait. We wait for confirmation that the duchies will attend the War Council.”

  “Can they refuse?” Monelle’s cheeks grew pale at the thought.

  Jax gave her a wry grin. “Only if they wish for the might of Saphire’s military to descend upon them. Every sovereign must answer the call of the council.” Clasping her hands behind her back, she began to circle the group while she explained the nuances of the War Council. Despite her courtiers being extremely well-educated and trained, the bylaws of the War Council were foreign to most of them, as it had been centuries since it was put into practice. They listened in rapt attention, showing no fatigue as she finally concluded by saying, “With the summons sent to every nation, the ducal leaders must next sort out where and when the War Council will be held.”

  Gavant was the first to process her lengthy explanation. “And your goal is to have the sovereigns all meet in Cetachi?”

  “With many of our own forces already stationed there, assisting with the training of the Cetachi army, we’d have the advantage of striking fast and hard.” Phantom sounds of swords clashing on the battlefield haunted Jax a moment. “If our negotiations fail, I want the fighting to be over as soon as possible. The less blood spilled, the better.”

  “Will your enemies agree? About convening in Cetachi?” Gavant challenged. “Wouldn’t they see it as a trap?”

  Jax shook her head. “The arrangement I made with Darian about sending Saphirian soldiers to Cetachi was done in person. No other dukedom knows that Saphire has a military presence in the new duchy.”

  “Are you certain, Duchess? What about these Tandorian spies?” Monelle held up Duke Mensina’s letter. “If they were watching your grandfather’s estate, Delphinia must be keeping a close eye on your movements.”

  Jax considered her warning for only a moment. “Summon Delphinia’s private secretary for questioning,” she ordered the Ducal Guards that surrounded her in the hidden shadows. One soldier nodded a quick bow before hastening from the hall. Turning back to her advisors, Jax’s smile shone grim in the candlelight. “We shall see if Sir Olavo is ready to make good on his plea for immunity.”

  While they waited, the courtiers brought Jax up to speed on the internal affairs they’d dealt with during her absence. Relief that her home continued to flourish doused her myriad of nerve
s. The system of elected town and village premiers she’d implemented at the conclusion of the Lysandeir peace summit last winter continued to prove a successful method.

  The creak of one of the throne room’s side doors drew the group’s attention to Captain Solomon as he entered the room, a chained man following in his wake. Seeing Sir Olavo shackled elicited an eye roll from Jax. “Those hardly seem necessary,” she muttered to George when he arrived at her side. Between the twenty-odd soldiers in the room, Olavo didn’t really pose a threat.

  “I determine the security measures around here, Duchess,” came George’s clipped reply, and she let the issue slide. While she could pull rank on him, she knew he was only acting in the interests of her safety.

  Jax’s critical gaze landed on the sniveling nobleman who had been under arrest since she’d uncovered the role he’d played in arranging for poisoned chocolates to be delivered to Ogdam Oasis. His once fine attire was torn and soiled with his salt-and-pepper hair a wild mess. The stench surrounding him conveyed his desperate need for a bath. She would request he be taken to bathe in the barracks after this meeting. If she truly planned to bring him forth as a witness at the War Council, he would need to be presentable, highlighting her compassion and mercy as a benevolent ruler.

  As if just realizing in whose presence he stood, Olavo sank to his knees. “Duchess Saphire, please forgive me for my misguided ways. I will do anything you ask, please, just spare my life.”

  Even though she had given no indication she planned to kill him, Olavo groveled at her feet. Clearly, he’d learned from his life in Tandorian court to never trust the word of a sovereign.

  Sweeping the skirts of her gown away from his beseeching hands, Jax stared him down. “It is yet to be seen if you have anything worthwhile to offer, Olavo.” A chill settled over the room as her formidable presence dominated the atmosphere.