Twinned Shadow (The Shadow Series Book 1)

by Candice Bundy

  This feast was a somber one, and tradition dictated little to no talking. So when the weeping man spoke, he drew all nearby attention.

  “I cannot abide this.” He slammed down his wine glass. Leaning forward, he pinned Becka with his glare. “Can we not have her removed? Her presence is unnerving.”

  “Alain, compose yourself,” Maura replied. “As you know, Becka is our esteemed guest for the week of remembrance.”

  “Her face is the mirror of my betrothed, and it wounds my soul to behold. Tesse’s memory is besmirched further by such poor presentation and a lack of adherence to our traditions.” He shielded his face behind his hand.

  Touched by the genuine nature of his grief, Becka held her tongue, instead focusing on finishing off her glass of wine. From what she’d heard, he was one of the least likely to be named a suspect. Besides, Tesse had thought well of him, even if their interactions had been limited.

  “Perhaps you need to take a moment?” Vott replied.

  “My love’s twin has clearly gone native, consumed by the corruption of the cities. She’s not even presentable.” He made a grand sweeping gesture towards Becka, head to toe, and then shook his head in disgust. “Tesse herself would have reprimanded her!”

  If she hadn’t been fending off much more creative insults from humans for years, Becka might have taken his critique personally. Becka looked at herself, noted nothing amiss, and then back at him.

  “My sister loved to hear about my fashion adventures. I doubt she’d care one whit what I’m wearing now.”

  “You spoke to Tesse? How appalling! And now you arrive covered in cat fur!” he groaned.

  Sure enough, she was. “Good news though, I located Oriani and he’s doing okay.”

  He growled pure angst. “I cannot sit here and grieve in silence with my heart’s shadow here.” Alain rose and fled the room.

  This is the emo drama I’ve been missing out on! Not exactly missing it now. Becka motioned to a server to refill her wine glass.

  After a few beats of silence, Maura spoke softly. “Please excuse Alain. His grief is difficult to bear.”

  She’d never had a close relationship with her mother. Maura had an entire house and guild to run, and as such, she’d spent most of her free time on promising new students. When her eldest had been deemed ungifted by the testers, Becka had had the impression Maura perceived the fateful turn of events as a loss of resources more than the loss of a child.

  “Everyone here is grieving,” Becka replied. “It’s an often unpalatable and unpredictable process.”

  Another server came around with a platter of sliced, roasted yams drizzled with pomegranate syrup. Becka took a couple of slices, refusing to miss out on the delicacies of the feast due to the scene. The food had been the best part of her visit so far. The company...not so much.

  Maura regarded her afresh, and Becka wondered which daughter she mourned tonight. She preferred to think it was both, and not just her twin.

  “So it is. I had had such high hopes for you both. I am sure you have heard Tesse had an unparalleled gift. Her ability to emulate lifelike creatures was unmatched.”

  “I saw her lavender rose gown. It’s impeccable in style and perfectly lifelike. The loss of Tesse’s magic leaves the world less remarkable.”

  Maura smiled a sad, half-hearted smile. “That dress was one of my favorites. Perhaps after the remembrance ceremony tomorrow you would like to see a few of her more impressive creations?”

  This was not the unapproachable and distant mother she remembered. This woman was vulnerable and open to dialogue. Could Maura’s willingness to talk be an opportunity to get more information to help the Enforcer’s investigation?

  “I’d appreciate that, Maura. Thanks.”

  Maura raised a brow, and her brother Calder’s face flushed red.

  Uh oh...

  “I know you have been away for some time, but you will refer to the Duchess of Rowan as befits her station,” Calder said, scolding her like she was an unruly child.

  Becka arched a brow. She’d been free from fae sensibilities too long to put up with this crap.

  Maura placed a hand on Calder’s arm. “Becka no longer lives in our world and is not bound by our customs.”

  “That much is obvious. But it would not kill her to display appropriate respect, my Lady,” Calder replied.

  “Perhaps then you could lead by example,” Maura said.

  Yowza! Maura didn’t let anything slide, did she?

  Calder sank back in his chair, cheeks flushed red. “Yes, my Lady. My apologies.” Calder stared daggers at Becka, but she ignored his ire.

  No doubt he’d blame the public chastisement on Becka. When she’d been outcast Calder had been fourteen, two years her junior. Even back then he’d been a hothead, first to charge into the middle of the fray, wee dagger drawn, begging for excitement. Becka had thought of it as status-seeking behavior even back then. With his temperament, they’d never been close.

  Now, with Tesse gone, Calder was the heir apparent. Could he have played a role in Tesse’s death? Becka’s gaze flitted to Quinn, who watched her and the entire head table like a hawk. He frowned, no doubt noticing the gears churning in her mind, as the humans would say.

  “Calder, I left the manor before your gift surfaced. Did your talents favor our mother or father?”

  Calder puffed up, running his fingers along the stem of his wine glass. “I displayed the illusionist gifts of Rowan shortly after you left. Before I turned seventeen, I also demonstrated the prophetic gifts of Alder.”

  A rooster would have been envious of his preening skills. No wonder he was so uppity. Fae houses had been trying to pull off cross-gifted offspring for generations. There had been occasional successes, but generally, children favored one or the other houses, not both. And rarely were both gifts of much merit.

  “What a fortuitous blessing for the Houses of Rowan and Alder.”

  “Indeed,” Maura replied. “His gifts are not as spectacularly powerful as others, but Guild Rowan hopes the combination affords us gains previously unattained.”

  Calder held his tongue and drank more wine. It must suck knowing you’re not the preferred heir, but the family would make do. Becka didn’t envy his position.

  “It’s bound to be an adventure,” Becka said, drawing another glower from Calder. She raised her glass. “To House Rowan.”

  Seconded by Vott, the entirety of the head table raised their glasses to Maura. The remainder of the hall followed suit, as per custom. Becka drained her glass long before the echoing toasts reached the furthest tables. It did little for her steadily building migraine.

  Maura smiled, but the cheer didn’t reach her eyes. Becka imagined losing her two eldest daughters was not made up for by having a cross-gifted son with mediocre powers.

  Calder continued to stare daggers at Becka. She sipped her wine in response, which was then courteously kept refilled by the wine steward. How jealous had he been of Tesse’s status as heir? How far would Calder have been willing to go?

  As the feasting wound down, the guests milled about the great hall, engaging in subdued conversation. A woman whose plain gray robes were marked with the embroidered suns of House Birch ringing the neckline approached their table, inclining her head in respect to Maura and Vott with the slightest hint of a bow.

  “Duchess Maura and Duke Vott, I extend the sympathies of House Birch.”

  “Elder Berkeley,” Maura replied, “We thank you for your compassion.”

  “It is the least House Birch can offer, and we would like to do more.”

  Maura arched a brow and took a sip from her wine glass. Curiosity softened her maudlin expression. “We welcome further partnership with the House of Healing. Please, explain your proposal.”

  “House Birch has long considered it their purview to reach beyond mere feminine health and healing. Since the Great War, our numbers have suffered and fertility rates continue to dwindle. If we are ever to rise aga
in to our former glory and beyond, exceptional measures must be taken.”

  Did Becka imagine how Maura’s gaze flickered to Quinn and back, as if to check if he was paying attention? He wasn’t looking this way at the moment. Perhaps speaking such a statement aloud, when an Enforcer was present, walked a thin line of sedition?

  “House Rowan fully supports House Birch’s efforts to maintain our population.”

  The two ladies shared a look of understanding and purpose.

  “Are you aware we have been working on enhanced fertility treatments?”

  “I had heard, yes.” The slightest of frowns creased Maura’s lips. “Rumor has it you are repurposing some human pharmaceutical?”

  “That is correct. It took some alterations to account for our distinct physiology, but at long last we are seeing positive results.”

  Maura leaned forward in her seat and set her glass down on the table. “That is encouraging news.”

  “House Birch, knowing the losses your house has suffered, would like to invite two from your house for treatment, free of trade.”

  Maura gave a slight shake to her head. “Free from reciprocity? That is quite a boon.”

  Berkeley smiled. “That is our intent. This gift, passed freely, to bolster the future of your house while the present feels dimmer in this moment.”

  Sadness played over Maura’s features. “Thank you, Elder Berkeley, House Rowan gratefully accepts your offer and delights in the deepening of the bond between our houses. May we be allies forevermore.”

  Becka wondered who Maura might send to the House of Healing for fertility treatment? None of her children were partnered yet. Or perhaps she’d send an older niece or nephew? Becka sighed. She’d never know the end of that story.

  Elder Berkeley gave a bow and then wandered off, only to be replaced by another fae.

  It was then she noticed the informal line of fae queued up. Becka was glad of the glass of claret in her hand, it was going to be a long evening. She would have excused herself, but considering her and Quinn’s goal of finding clues as to her sister’s murderer, Becka felt obliged to stay, watch, and listen.

  “Duchess Maura and Duke Vott, I extend the sympathies of House Holly.”

  “Thank you for your compassion, Lagan. It has been some time since you or any other from the House of Renewal has visited our halls.”

  “I spend a great deal of time traveling, and have been far afield these past few years. As is the way of our house.”

  “So we have heard. I must admit being fondly surprised to hear you had arrived in time for the nuptial festivities.”

  “Although it is true we Holly revere births and deaths, weddings are yet another form of rebirth, are they not?”

  “We are familiar,” Vott replied. “I heard you were recently at House Alder?”

  “That is quite true, and I saw your sister, Elder Alaetha. She gave me this letter for you. By her words: all present when this is opened will receive a touch of wisdom from the House of Whispers.”

  Lagan withdrew a scroll from his vest and handed it to Vott.

  Becka didn’t know what had happened to Vott’s sister, but the sadness in his expression spoke volumes. She remembered Alaetha as a kind, warm woman who’d sneaked her candies during long night vigils. What information would Alaetha have entrusted to Lagan, instead of using a standard courier?

  “As I am sure you are wondering, she looks well, considering,” Lagan said. “Alaetha did not request it, but I am sure she would welcome a visit from her brother.”

  “Thank you, Lagan,” Vott replied. “We appreciate your token of kindness.”

  “I am pleased to be of service.” He bowed. “Duchess, Duke, good evening.” Then Lagan sauntered away, his broad, relaxed smile taking in the hall around him.

  Vott stood and raised a glass, tapping it with a ring upon his hand, causing the vessel to ring. The sound carried through the Great Hall, and all heads turned his way. He set down the glass and took the scroll in both hands, cracking the seal.

  A gentle breeze blew through the hall. Looks of happiness, contentment, and joy moved like a wave through the crowd. When the wave hit the Duchess’s table, Becka watched those around her nod and smile. Whatever sensation everyone else enjoyed, Becka was distracted by the sudden worsening of her headache. Everyone else seemed to be enjoying Alaetha’s missive but Becka couldn’t focus enough through the discomfort to listen for it. Luckily, the headache lessened as she sipped more wine.

  Others approached to speak to Maura and Vott, but their stories blurred together for Becka, whose migraine continued to throb. They were all pleasantries and superficial comments and nothing which felt meaningful to the investigation into Tesse’s death.

  When she had heard a few dozen tales of offerings and gifts, gorged herself on long-lost childhood delicacies, and had perhaps had a glass too many of fairy wine, Becka excused herself from the table.

  Considering her headache, she’d need more hot pepper sauce if she had any hope of sleeping tonight.

  Chapter 10

  Becka slipped out of the dining hall and stumbled down the corridors toward her room. A pair of guards going the other way passed by her, not particularly paying her much attention. Considering her youth, where she’d walked down this hall countless times, even so many years ago, Becka could still walk it with her eyes shut. Fingers brushing against the wall, she reveled in the fond memory and laughed out loud.

  A deep male laugh behind her echoed her mirth.

  Becka stopped and spun to face Lagan, whose disarming smile and intense gaze was a look she had become familiar with.

  “Apologies, Becka. I did not mean to surprise you.”

  Becka giggled and was astonished to hear the giddy sound exit her mouth. How much wine had she had to drink?

  “It’s fine,” she replied.

  “Oh my, you appear to be wearing most of a cat,” he said. “Is there any left on the poor animal?”

  She laughed, again. “Oh, he got into something, as cats do. He’s fine now, just has to live with a naked tail for a few days,” she explained. Lagan frowned at her, but then shrugged as he resumed his smile. “Are you looking for your guest quarters?”

  HIs intense gaze didn’t waver as he stepped in near to her. “No, I saw you at the family table and decided to seek you out.”

  Becka cocked her head to the side. “Why?”

  He answered with a sensual smile, as his gaze traveled down her face, neck, and across the bare skin of her shoulders. “I wondered if, with you being back in fae territory, if you might be open to a liaison during your interlude here.”

  A sinking sensation tugged at her stomach. Being reminded of her potential usefulness as a breeder soured her mood. “No thanks. I’m not interested in having Rowan babies.”

  He took a step back, a flash of anger in his gaze. “We each have certain responsibilities to our people.”

  “I’m not even one of you anymore. Besides, I’ve seen the birth rate studies. The chances of a non-gifted having a gifted child are remote at best. It’s why we’re exiled; so we don’t dilute the magical lineage.”

  “And yet, not impossible. You must prefer fae lovers, so what’s the harm?”

  She smelled the musky scent of a shifter a moment before he emerged from an arched doorway about ten feet down the hall to their left. Although she’d expected her father’s hired guards to be present in addition to the fae guards, having the stout shifter appear in relatively close quarters definitely sobered her mood.

  “The lady said she wasn’t interested,” the wolf shifter said, his voice rumbling on the edge of a growl.

  Lagan looked at the shifter, open disdain pinching his features. “Oh, I heard. But I am allowed to be appalled over her lack of interest in her own kind.” He turned back to Becka. “I will take my leave, then. Feel free to contact me if you change your mind.”

  Becka didn’t bother to reply, and Lagan spun on his heel and stormed off down the hallw
ay.

  “My pardon, my Lady,” the shifter said. “Do you remember me?”

  “I think so. It’s Barric. Barric Douglas, right?” She remembered him as a shifter her father had in his employ. Oh my, didn’t he appear as fit as ever?

  His swaggery smile ran all the way from the creases of his steely blue eyes to his wolfish grin. “Name’s Brent, actually. Barric is my dad. I took over Duke Vott’s protection details when my dad retired a few years ago.”

  Becka shook her head. “Apologies for my confusion, but you’re the spitting image of your father. Well, at least how he looked a decade ago.”

  “No offense taken. It happens all of the time.”

  “Does Vott keep you pretty busy?”

  He took a deep breath, seeming to catch the smell of something interesting. “He does, although not year round. I cycle my time back and forth between Rowan and the Enclave.”

  “Sounds interesting,” Becka replied. A Shifter Enclave would be a curious place to visit. She made a mental note to add it to her journal.

  “I was actually in the city earlier today. I doubt you were aware, but I was the one Duke Vott sent to escort you here. I only now returned.”

  “Oh shoot, that’s right.” She had to focus a little extra to remember the details. “Vott said he’d sent a shifter. I didn’t know it was you.”

  “I understand you got waylaid by an Enforcer before I arrived. Did he give you any trouble?”

  Becka waved her hand. “Oh, Quinn? Pshaw. He’s more or less a liar but he’s nothing to worry about. I’ve got him handled.”

  Brent frowned, and Becka wondered if Brent had heard about Quinn’s reputation problems.

  “I’ve heard about him. Duke Vott mentioned he’d been insisting on protective duties. If you’d like, I can petition the Enforcers to replace Quinn. It’d be a mere formality and I bet you’d feel more comfortable with someone you and your family know and trust.”

  Her stomach soured. There was that phrase again. Your family. It spoke to a collective blindness within all of the guilds; that a world of experience besides their own didn’t exist. Somehow Becka was simultaneously family and also an outcast. As if the two could ever truly coexist within her personal reality.