Acolyte Axesinger shifted and placed her hands on two glinting daggers that hung from her slender waist. Her gaze hardened, clearly recognizing that Perry was questioning her ability to protect his wife.
Darian’s gaze narrowed on Perry, as well. “I discreetly instructed Prelate Brath to assign his two best warriors to my friends from Saphire and Pettraud. Both Huguet and Axesinger have served the Knights since childhood. Both are decorated acolytes within the organization. Axesinger is Brath Egarhaven’s chosen successor when he decides to step down as Prelate.”
Jax eyed the lithe acolyte with deepening respect. Her brief observation of the woman’s actions suggested she was more than a capable warrior. Jax recognized how the acolyte’s eyes never rested on one thing for long, how she constantly repositioned herself between her charge and the fluctuating environment. She moved with the same determination that George did when he was protecting her.
Perry swallowed audibly beside her, clearly chastened by Darian’s veiled reprimand. She frowned slightly at her husband. He should have known better than to judge her assigned escort based on her gender.
Jax waved away the tension of the moment. “I see we are in the best of hands. Darian, if you would, please have someone relay Acolyte Axesinger’s accomplishments and qualifications to Captain Solomon, so he knows I am being well looked after.”
Darian nodded a bit absently. “Forgive me, but I must attend to some other matters while we wait for Duke Crepsta’s arrival. Your guards will see you to your assigned chambers for the duration of the War Council.”
Jax’s brow furrowed with disappointment as he hurried across the courtyard and vanished into the darkness. She had wanted to speak more with her uncle before the commencement ceremony began, but understood that by hosting the War Council, Darian had other things to deal with.
“Your Grace, if you will come this way,” Ziri Axesinger purred, extending an arm toward the manor’s threshold.
With a demure smile, Jax gathered her skirts and followed the acolyte. Perry walked behind her, and Olin Huguet prowled silently after his charge.
The female acolyte rhythmically rapped her knuckles against the bronze door. As her hand dropped to rest upon the hilt of one of her daggers, the door swung inward, revealing a cavernous room bathed in candlelight. Jax and Perry followed their guards inside, taking in the stunning sight. It wasn’t just candlelight illuminating the expansive room, but the very walls themselves. Whatever sunlight have been trapped by the bricks of moonstone stretched across the hall, banishing away all traces of night.
“Amazing, isn’t it?” Acolyte Axesinger’s voice held a note of awe. “I’d never seen anything like it before in my life.”
Jax was too mesmerized by the glowing stones to respond.
“The moonstone absorbs the sun’s light throughout the day,” the acolyte continued. “When night falls over the fortress, the stones release the energy they’ve kept stored, both lighting and heating the main tower. Your rooms are equipped with fireplaces if you find yourselves cold in the morning, as the moonstones’ charge does start to fade in the hours before dawn.”
Perry’s lavender gaze trailed the length of the room. “And the entire fort is made from moonstone?”
Acolyte Axesinger nodded. “For the most part, save the outlying buildings in the courtyard. According to the estate’s archives, Fort Vyndheim was built directly over a moonstone quarry. Prelate Brath and I took some of the Knights to explore the mines and passages underneath the manor, to ensure they were all blocked and secured from outside entry. The maze beneath our feet is quite extensive, but rest assured, you are safe within these walls.” She resumed walking, gracefully slinking over to the gaping arch of a side hallway.
Before crossing over the threshold, the leonine acolyte paused to point at the massive, two-story door at the back of the entry hall. Even from a distance, Jax noted the elaborate details etched into the solid bronze doors. “That is the entrance to the grand hall. It will serve as the designated chamber for the War Council proceedings. I doubt you’ll have much need or the time to wander elsewhere in the fortress.”
“We will happily escort you anywhere you want to go,” Acolyte Huguet interjected, giving Acolyte Axesinger a scolding look. Jax guessed the fierce woman wasn’t too pleased to be assigned to babysit.
“All the sovereigns are housed on the tower’s first floor,” Axesinger continued, ignoring the silent chastisement from her partner. “Duke Fangard has provided the Knights with a vague itinerary concerning the War Council, as the schedule is subject to change. We will escort you to and from the grand hall, and of course, serve as protection during any breaks that may occur. Our shifts conclude once the sovereigns retire for bed, as there will be sentries patrolling the halls.” She sounded bored, rattling off the War Council’s security measures like a jaded schoolchild.
“How many Knights of Grace has Darian employed for this gathering?” Jax asked, noting that none guarded the main entrance hall where they currently stood.
“Prelate Brath selected forty of his most seasoned Knights.” Axesinger’s dark eyes glinted in the glowing tendrils streaming from the moonstone canopy.
Forty? Jax’s gaze scanned the desolate room. Where were these guardsmen? Had any of them been assigned to watch over George and the other escorts?
“You are in good hands, Duquessa,” Acolyte Axesinger commented, a smug smile on her glossy lips. “The twelve sovereigns of the realm will come to no harm from outside interference.”
A scoff escaped Jax before she had time to rein in her reaction.
Axesinger’s head cocked with intrigue. “Or perhaps, you are not concerned so much by outside interference, but rather what troubles may befall you once the doors to the council chamber are closed.”
Perry released the clasp of his riding cloak, the warm air clearly getting to him. “Will the Knights of Grace attend to the sovereigns while the War Council is in session?”
Axesinger shook her head, her silky hair rippling with movement. “No. The bylaws forbid attendance of anyone without a crown.” She paused, an almost challenging sneer lifting the corners of her lips. “You will be on your own, dear Duke.”
Perry’s hand reflexively went to the hilt of the silver sword hanging from the leather belt around his waist. Jax envied her husband for being allowed a weapon…yet another patriarchal tradition she wished would fade into the annals of history.
Despite the heat saturating the room, a shiver ran through Jax. Standing there in the massive entrance hall, she suddenly felt very small and vulnerable. “Please, our rooms, if you would, Acolyte Axesinger.”
The woman dipped her chin and glided down the long passageway as she spoke. “Please, Duquessa, since I plan to be your shadow for the foreseeable future, call me Ziri. The Prelate only calls me Acolyte Axesinger when I am in trouble.”
Jax smiled at the young woman’s lightheartedness, but Perry did not react the same. “Are you frequently getting into trouble, Acolyte?”
Jax rolled her eyes at her husband’s rude overprotectiveness.
Ziri simply responded with a feline grin. “I do have a habit of breaking the rules, Duke Pettraud. If I didn’t, I’d never be a Knight of Grace to begin with.”
Intrigued by the mysterious woman, Jax sent her husband a shushing glare and hurried after Ziri. “How did you come to join the Knights of Grace?” Her voice echoed softly down the ethereal hallway.
Ziri glanced over her shoulder, a look of surprise flashing across her features. Evidently, she had not expected the Duchess of Saphire to take such an interest in her backstory. “I was born in a poor fishing village along the Kwatalarian coastline. My mother and father struggled to make ends meet and provide for me and my three younger sisters. My father made his living as a fisherman, and when my mother wasn’t taking care of the children, she created crude pottery to sell at the local market.” A muscle twitched in Ziri’s elegant jawline. “Despite how hard they worked, my family wa
s extremely poor, one of the poorest in the village. When other, wealthier fishermen who worked for the region’s Earl began to find their lines being cut, my father was accused. He was sentenced to death by hanging.”
Jax closed her eyes, concealing her inner agony for the young woman ahead of her.
Ziri continued, her pace slowing to a graceful prowl. “My mother forbade us from attending the public spectacle, but I snuck out of the house anyway. I wanted to be with my father in his final moments. I wanted him to know I would protect the family in his stead. Yet, as the hangman dropped the floor out from under my father, a blade cut through the air, slicing the rope.”
In the glow of the moonstone radiating from the surrounding walls, Jax noticed Ziri stroking one of the daggers hanging at her waist.
“A hooded man in the crowd claimed the Virtues had spoken and my father was to be spared.” Ziri’s strong shoulders grew even more straight. “Before the Earl’s henchmen arrived on the scene to recapture my father and maintain order, the hooded man whisked Papa away.” She pulled one of the daggers from its sheath, the silver hilt sparkling in the moonstones’ luminescence. “I found this imbedded in the post of the gallows and followed the man, keeping in the shadows. I’ve always been good at being overlooked.” A feline grin curled on her face, belying her striking beauty.
Jax felt an understanding pass between them in that moment. She also knew what it felt like to be underestimated and disregarded because of her gender.
“I trailed the hooded savior to a cavern outside the village,” Ziri continued. “I made it into the very heart of a Knights of Grace outpost before they realized I was even there.” Her pace slowed as they wandered further down the long, domed hallway. “Even though he required no payment, I knelt before the Knight who rescued my father, pledging my service to the brotherhood to show my undying gratitude for securing my father’s freedom and sparing my mother and sisters more hardship. The hooded man humbly accepted the only thing I had left to give.”
Jax found herself breathless at the harrowing tale, almost something out of a bedtime story. “What happened after that?”
Ziri shrugged. “I gave up my old life, and the Knights became my family. The hooded man gave my father a pouch of gold, along with the advice to take his family away from the desert sands and start a new life somewhere else. The last time I saw Papa was when he left that seaside cavern in Kwatalar.” There was a hollowness to her words, betraying the true pain she still felt for her lost family. “I have served the Knights of Grace ever since. I have them to thank for everything. If that hooded man had not thrown this blade…I don’t know what would have become of my family. I may have wanted to protect my mother and sisters in my father’s place, but I was only eight.” She fingered the dagger before sliding it back into its sheath. “I am the first woman to be accepted into the Knights of Grace. So, as I said before, Prelate Brath knows I have been breaking the rules a long time.”
Jax marveled at the young woman’s tale. “I take it Prelate Brath was the man in the hooded cloak?”
Ziri’s eyes brightened in the soft light encompassing the hallway. “I’ve heard of your skills in the art of deduction, Duquessa.”
Jax’s cheeks warmed at the veiled respect in the woman’s statement. “It’s helped me stay alive this long.”
At that, Ziri’s eyes narrowed. “I don’t intend to break the streak.” She lowered her voice. “I will also assure your Captain Solomon that his charge is in good hands. I may have overheard the exchange that took place before Prelate Brath led him away. I will make sure he knows you will be the only one to walk out of the War Council alive, should it come to that.”
Jax appreciated the woman’s swaggering confidence. “Please make sure that pledge extends to my husband, as well.”
Chapter Four
Jax and Perry had been assigned adjoining chambers in the eastern wing, as the elusive War Council protocols stated each sovereign was owed a private room during the summit. The moment Ziri departed, giving Jax a welcomed moment alone, Perry popped his head through the side door.
“I’m assuming Darian hopes the sparse living quarters will incentivize the War Council to make a decision in haste.” He sauntered into Jax’s room, eyeing the bed, two sitting chairs, wash basin, and fireplace. “I cannot imagine Duchess Tandora or Dukes Beautraud and Savant wanting to remain here any longer than necessary.”
Jax surveyed the small space with a pinched expression, nothing the light patter of rain assaulting the lone window. She hoped the storm her uncle had pointed out earlier would pass quickly.
“I believe Darian’s primary concern is our security,” she finally said to her husband. “The Knights of Grace are able to defend smaller spaces with ease.”
Perry plopped down on her quilted bed. “What do you think of it all, Jax? I saw your face when Brath introduced himself. You thought the Knights of Grace were a myth, too.”
She sank onto the cushions beside her husband. “I’m still coming to terms with it, I suppose. I always believed the Knights of Grace to be tall tales told to children, but it seems they’re one of the few secrets still alive within the realm.”
Perry’s expression darkened. “Can we really trust them to protect us when our ancestors hunted them into near extinction?”
Her husband’s concerns weighed heavily on her mind. He was not wrong to question their security, but Jax’s thoughts floated back to Ziri Axesinger and the quiet, noble nature she exuded. She seemed like a woman of her word, but Jax had been known to misjudge a person’s character before. “We can only trust ourselves within these walls, my love. Never let your guard down, even in the presence of friends.”
He straightened beside her, wariness tinging his chiseled features. “What do you mean? Do you suspect treachery from Darian?”
“I don’t suspect it,” Jax said with a shake of her head, “but I’d be a fool to dismiss the notion entirely. He’s funding the Knights of Grace, after all. Ultimately, they will answer to him.”
Perry’s hand found hers and stroked her palm with his fingers. “I’d feel a lot safer if George and Ivan were here.”
Her stomach tightened at the mention of her friend. She could only imagine the frustration and angst George might be experiencing, forced to remain separated from her. “I hope they are kept safe. I worry with them locked under the same roof as our enemies’ guardsmen.”
A knock on the outer door diverted their attention.
“Come in,” Jax said.
The door swung open, and Ziri’s lithe figure leaned against the doorframe. “I’ve just heard word that Duke Crepsta has arrived, Your Grace. Duke Cetachi requests everyone to assemble in the grand hall in an hour for the War Council’s formal commencement session.”
Jax’s insides turned cold. The past months of planning, scheming, and calculating had all led to this one moment. The fate of the Realm of Virtues could possibly be determined just within the next few hours. Perhaps when she came face-to-face with her enemies, reason would dawn and they could all return home. But the chilling darkness swirling through her painted another story.
“Please allow me a few moments to freshen up, Ziri. I’d like to head to the grand hall sooner rather than later.”
The acolyte bowed her head. “I shall wait for you in the corridor, Duquessa.”
Jax shooed her husband into his chambers. “You must look your finest. The war of words can be easily won if our enemies fall speechless upon seeing us.”
Perry needed no further encouragement. He disappeared into his room, leaving their adjoining door ajar.
While Jax wanted to travel lightly, Sabine and Uma had insisted on providing their Duchess with a formidable, regal wardrobe. From her bulging saddlebag, which she assumed had been brought to her chambers by a stable hand while introductions had been made, Jax pulled out the newly commissioned gowns designed by the Saphirian royal tailor. In an effort to conserve space during Jax’s ride north, Monsieur Duval had o
pted to reduce the volume of her dresses’ skirt portions. What they lacked in size, the gowns made up for in elaborate detail. For tonight’s engagement, Jax selected a violet gown with a golden lace overlay.
She quickly freshened up and got into the gown. Paired with her most stunning gold crown, her reflection in the mirror looked the epitome of a Saphirian ruler.
Perry joined her just as she was tucking the diamond-jeweled crown into her caramel tresses. He cut an attractive figure in his forest green tunic, hemmed with silver embroidery. A silver laurel crown rested on his dark curls, glittering in the light emulating from the moonstone that cocooned them.
Jax ran a finger up and down his chest, toying with the silver clasps of his tunic. “I am envious, my love. Madame Neasa never ceases to amaze me with her skill.” She smiled at the memory of the matronly royal tailor of Pettraud.
Perry kissed her hand in return. “Don’t ever let her hear you speak in such a way. She’d abandon me in a heartbeat if she knew you desired her services.”
As much as Jax longed to remain in her husband’s company, she knew time was against them. She wanted to be one of the first to arrive at the council chamber and assess the situation, as well as the other guests at Fort Vyndheim. Steeling herself for what was to come, she straightened, her amethyst gaze locked on Perry’s. “It is time we make good on our pledge to protect our people, Duke Pettraud.”
With a bow of his head, Perry extended an arm toward the door. “Lead the way, Duchess.”
‡
Their escorts maintained a similar formation from their earlier stroll. Ziri prowled in the lead, while Huguet kept watch at their backs. Jax noted the eerie silence all around them. She half expected to hear Duke Savant barking orders or Duchess Tandora’s shrill demands echoing down the hallways, but Fort Vyndheim remained silent as a tomb.
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