by L. Penelope
Tai’s fidgeting stopped the moment the woman in question glided into the throne room. Lizvette moved with a divine grace, like a creature from another world sent here to live among the mortals. His mouth went dry.
Her eyes caught his and held. The sadness in her gaze made his entire body ache, but he couldn’t contemplate it and, instead, turned his attention to the polished floor.
Captain Zivel entered in full military regalia with lots of shiny bits on his chest. Tai nodded and Zivel strolled over, holding his palms out for an Elsiran greeting.
“Do you know what this is about?” Tai asked.
“I’ve some idea,” Zivel replied with what could almost be considered a smile. Tai’s brows shot up. “I’ve been to a couple of these before.”
When the man would say nothing else, Tai merely shook his head. “Do you know anything more about who poisoned the queen?”
Whatever joviality the captain had possessed disappeared. “A warrant is out for the arrest of Chief Luqos Dillot.”
“The head of the Intelligence Service?”
“The same. One of the new Lagrimari maids—an Earthsinger—pointed us toward a footman who she said was gushing guilt like a hose. The young man admitted that Dillot had been blackmailing some of the staff. Had forced him to add a ‘sleeping draft’ into the queen’s tea last night. Dillot’s in the wind, but we’ll find him.” Zivel’s face was grim. “And I intend to petition the Council for a few Earthsingers to be added to the Yaly Foreign Service. They could help us identify threats over there.”
Darvyn must have made quite an impression. Tai had no idea what Zivel’s politics were, but he seemed the practical sort. If an Earthsinger could help him do his job, then why not?
After a few more polite words, the captain wandered away and Lizvette drifted over. Her perfume was a sweet greeting that arrived slightly before she did. Tai closed his eyes, inhaling deeply, trying to commit it to memory. It was unlikely he would ever scent something so refined and delicate again. Lizvette’s fragrance would likely haunt him for the rest of his days.
Certainly he would return to Elsira as soon as whatever obligations his mother had cooked up for him were done, but he could not expect Lizvette to wait. There would doubtless be proposals headed her way. And she was a practical woman—what use would waiting for him to sail into port every few months be to her? What kind of life would that make?
Finally, feeling as though he was in control of the emotion flashing behind his eyes, he met her gaze. Everything he was feeling was reflected in her face.
The murmuring in the throne room ceased as the king, queen, and Goddess entered. Clove, Vanesse, and Jasminda’s family had also arrived, and they all stood before the monarchs.
A liveried attendant strode up to the dais with a large cushion in his hands. The king examined the contents of the cushion, then nodded in approval. He addressed those gathered. “For your service to the state, I, Jaqros Edvard Alliaseen, High Commander of the Royal Army and King of Elsira, grant you our most cherished distinction—the Order of the Grainbearer, an ancient honor that few have achieved.” From the cushion, he picked up a sash with a golden medal attached.
“Vanesse Olivesse Zinadeel. Clovette Mozelle Liddelot. Lizvette Marineve Nirall. Darvyn ol-Tahlyro. Tai N’dogo Summerhawk. Kyara ul-Lagrimar. You are all hereby inducted into this great legacy. Elsira gives you our thanks.”
They each stepped forward to accept their medals. The queen placed Tai’s over his head and smiled beatifically. He was a bit dazzled and stumbled as he moved away.
He noticed the Goddess standing behind the thrones, peering down at them with glittering eyes. She nodded once after they’d received their medals, then left the room.
Other attendants and servants milled around. A photograph was taken, for which Tai had to stand stiffly until the exposure was complete. He fingered the ribbon around his neck absently. On one side it bore the great seal of Elsira, a fish swimming around a tree, its branches spread wide. On the other, the profile of a man wearing a crown with the words: In Feast and in Famine We Sustain.
A Summerhawk had never received an official honor before. His mother having ruthlessly clawed her way into the role of king of Raun notwithstanding, his family name had been tarnished by his father. The respect a medal of this kind represented meant more than he thought such a thing could.
Roshon and Varten approached him then as their father stood next to their sister, speaking quietly. The twins congratulated him and smiled wide, though Roshon’s expression was a bit guarded.
Varten spoke up on his brother’s behalf. “So, word is your sister has her own ship now?”
Tai hadn’t gotten the chance to see the boys since their rescue, but he’d located a dolphin messenger and sent word to Ani that Roshon and his family were alive and well. A response had not yet come back.
“She blew through her apprenticeship even faster than I thought she would,” he responded. “She should be in the north of the ocean now, shuttling goods from Raun to Udland.”
Roshon’s amber eyes darted back and forth. He was trying admirably to hide his emotions, but the nerves broke through.
Ani’s mourning after Roshon’s disappearance had consisted of throwing herself into her work, making captain at an unprecedented speed. And while the king claimed that the teenagers’ betrothal was invalid—due to Roshon being assumed dead—Ani had never accepted the ruling.
“I would expect that she will be making a detour to Rosira, though,” Tai added. “Once she receives my message…”
Only then did Roshon’s eyes light up, though he attempted to keep his face neutral. “Is that so?” he asked casually. Varten elbowed him in the ribs, causing him to stumble.
“I’d give her about a week,” Tai said.
Finally, a grin overtook his face. “One week?” he asked as his brother snickered.
Tai nodded. Roshon’s cheeks flushed as he tried to contain his emotions.
“Jasminda’s eager to meet the girl who had to whup Roshon in order to secure a betrothal,” Varten said.
Now the grin that split Roshon’s face was huge. “Jasminda will love Ani. They might even get into a fistfight—I think they’d both enjoy that!”
Tai looked skeptically at the demure and sophisticated queen, trying to compare her to his energetic sister.
“Don’t let the dress and crown fool you,” Varten said. “Jas used to wallop us good. She gives as good as she gets. She and Ani will get along just fine. And they could both use a sister.”
Tai nodded and slapped the boys on the backs before they returned to their family.
He felt a presence behind him and knew it was Lizvette. But he didn’t have the nerve to turn around. Instead, he waited as Darvyn walked up, loosening the silk around his neck, appearing as though he was ready to leave.
“You getting out of here, mate?” Tai asked.
“Yeah, Kyara needs some time away from people.” He motioned over his shoulder to where she stood near the door. “She’s still coming to terms with everything that’s happened.”
Tai nodded, relief and pity for her mixing within him.
“If I don’t see you before you go, then…” Darvyn gave Tai a hug, complete with several thumps on the back.
“Until the next time, mate.”
“Until the next time,” Darvyn repeated and then ambled away.
Once he was gone, Lizvette spoke to Tai. “Are you leaving now?” Her voice was crystal clear and melodic, with a note of worry at the end.
He gathered his courage and turned to face her. “Yes. In a few moments.”
Her eyes darkened, and she remained quiet.
“Does this medal mean that you’re pardoned?” he asked.
She looked at the adornment on her chest. “The crown has dropped all charges against me.” Her lips curved in an abbreviated smile, though it did not reach her eyes. The anguish there made his chest tighten. “Tai—”
“No need for good-b
yes, duchess,” he said around the swelling in his throat. His eyes prickled in a strange way that must have meant the throne room was especially dusty.
He took a step back and gave a deep bow. “My lady,” he said formally and reached for her hand to give it a kiss. The softness of her skin against his lips brought back all sorts of memories that he couldn’t bear to dwell on just now. They would no doubt keep him company on the journey ahead and the long days and years without her. He had to leave. Now.
“Until the next time, duchess,” he said. He waited for her to repeat the Raunian greeting, but only silence met him.
He chanced a glance to her face and saw more emotion there than he was prepared for. Instead of giving in to the desire to beg her to come with him, he bowed again and released her hand, then beat a swift retreat from the throne room.
* * *
Lizvette’s heart cracked inside her chest as Tai’s broad back retreated. Her feet wanted to chase after him, but they couldn’t. She was stuck. Perhaps exile would not have been so bad after all. Could she have been exiled with Tai?
She shook off the feeling and turned only to gasp at finding Jasminda standing directly beside her. As quickly as possible, she gathered her composure and sank into a curtsey. When she stood fully, she was Lizvette Nirall again, self-possessed former almost-princess, at least to the outside world.
“I owe you more than this medal,” Jasminda said, motioning to the ribbon around Lizvette’s neck. “I owe you a debt of gratitude. My family has been returned to me.”
Lizvette shook her head. “That had very little to do with me, Your Majesty. I only wish that I could have ferreted out the threat against you sooner and more completely.”
Jasminda tsked. “What’s done is done, and your aid was invaluable. I have spoken to the others and know what you were able to accomplish. None of this would have been possible without you.”
Lizvette did not know how to respond to that, so she remained silent.
Queen Jasminda’s dark eyes glittered as they regarded her. They did not look particularly angry, but not particularly friendly, either. “You and I will never be friends,” she said.
Lizvette paled. Yes, that would be too much to ask for. She dared not apologize again for her actions before the Mantle fell.
“But I no longer count you an enemy,” the queen continued. “And my husband is still very fond of you, though he is afraid to admit it to me.” She snorted. “Loyal friends are difficult to find. And I believe you are loyal, Lizvette.” The queen grabbed her skirts and walked toward the window at the edge of the throne room, motioning for Lizvette to follow. “However, that does not mean I have any wish for you to be around the palace day in and day out.”
Lizvette gripped her hands in front of her. “So we’re to be put out, then?”
The queen raised an eyebrow.
“With Father’s trial approaching, the crown will seize his assets. I’ll just need time to secure a dwelling for my mother and myself. Would that be possible, Your Majesty?”
Queen Jasminda looked at her askance. “I would not throw you out into the street, regardless of what Nirall is guilty of. We’ve already established that you had nothing to do with that. Your home is not at risk. Your mother may live there for the rest of her days.”
A burst of air escaped Lizvette’s lungs. Mother would not fare well away from the place she’d called home most of her adult life. But then the entirety of the queen’s words sunk in. “My mother, but not me.”
The queen pursed her lips.
Lizvette took a shaky breath. “I can understand if you don’t forgive me. It is your right. I cannot apologize more earnestly or truthfully than I have already done. I was wrong … about a great many things. If I could have found an amalgam in Yaly that would turn back the hands of time so that I could change things, I would. But do not forget that your presence on that battlefield the day the Mantle fell is the only reason the war is over. It doesn’t excuse my actions, but perhaps it is proof of a larger plan at work. And if your heart is still so hardened against me that it can never be softened, I will leave. You won’t have to see me again.”
She steeled her spine against the queen’s fiery gaze. Her skin tingled, and she felt as though she were almost outside of her body. Had she really said such a thing to the queen? Searching her heart, she found no part of herself that wanted to take it back.
The corners of the queen’s mouth tilted up a fraction. Was it Lizvette’s imagination or was that a modicum of respect shining in the monarch’s eyes?
“I was going to say that your abilities on this mission have proven that you are an asset to our country. There are several ambassadorships open at the moment, and our weakening relationships with certain neighbors necessitate installing diplomats we trust. Would you be interested in serving in such a role?”
Lizvette snapped her mouth shut as her heart raced. “Yes, Your Majesty. I would be honored. I am eager to serve in any capacity—”
“Good,” Jasminda cut her off.
“Am I to return to Yaly, then?” They had need of a new ambassador there certainly. Everyone in that land seemed to be corrupt.
“It is your choice. We do need someone there, but the situation with Raun has become untenable. The embargo must be lifted if Elsira is to recover financially. Their king is not known for being reasonable, but perhaps if we had a woman negotiating, it would be more effective.” The queen raised her chin. She faced the window, but Lizvette had the distinct impression that she was the subject of Jasminda’s scrutiny. “The Raunian culture is rather strange, from what I’ve learned, but their women take on very strong roles.”
Lizvette worked to loosen her frozen jaw. “Raun?”
“Yes. And if that is your choice, we’ll need you to leave immediately. Though I know you’ve only been back a short time, this cannot wait. We will have a nurse tend to your mother if she is still ill, and your written deposition should serve for your father’s trial.”
Her breath stuttered in her chest. “Raun?” she repeated.
The queen raised an eyebrow. “I believe that many of the common Elsiran fears about the Raunians are likely unfounded. But Yaly is still an option, if you’d prefer.”
“No, Your Majesty. You’re right. Raun is the far more pressing situation, and I do feel a woman’s touch may be needed when dealing with their king. And time is of the essence. In fact, I know of a vessel that is leaving today.”
Jasminda looked a bit startled by the speed of the words shooting from Lizvette’s mouth.
“If I may be excused, Your Majesty?”
“Certainly.” The queen stepped aside, and Lizvette did her best to walk out of the throne room in a dignified manner. Once outside, however, she tore through the hallway at a dead sprint until she reached her rooms.
When Lizvette arrived, she found Mother sitting in the window with a sour look on her face. Lizvette called her maid and told her to pack as if her life depended on it. She didn’t have clothing appropriate for weeks on a ship, but perhaps clothing would not be entirely necessary after all.
CHAPTER FORTY-EIGHT
The hand of Ylajah the Scholar keeps this record, so all may bear witness and recognize. The seeker herself, did not stay long in her home. She is out there even now, wandering among the people of the land she united. Journeying still, so the past remains history and the future secure in our outstretched hands.
—THE AYALYA
Tai reviewed the ship’s manifest and waited for the dock inspectors to finish their scrutiny. He’d already completed his check on the engines. There was nothing more for him to do as Mik had prepared everything on the Hekili in expectation of having to leave quickly.
“Are you ready to face your mum again?” Mik asked.
“Are you?” Tai shot back, trying for levity. Ignoring the pain that had settled onto his heart would be his main pastime now. It certainly wasn’t going anywhere.
Perhaps after he’d fixed things with his
mother, he would be able to return and find that Lizvette was still willing to see him, that she had not chosen another. The admittedly weak hope would have to last him for the weeks and months ahead.
He sat on the bridge of the ship, the instrumentation blurring in front of him. Beyond, the vast ocean spread out. Thousands of kilometers away lay Raun, and between here and there, the sea separated him from the woman he loved. He’d never thought to utter those words before, but the reality of his feelings settled across him as he stared at the waves.
Never before had the ocean been anything other than home for him. Now it was an impediment. Yet another challenge to overcome.
Love. He shook his head and wiped a hand over his face. Swallowing the uncharacteristic surge of emotion, he pulled out his navigation charts and the latest weather predictions. Whoever had generated these was an idiot, he thought, as the storm coming surely wouldn’t be as strong as all that. Would it?
The inspectors had finally signed off and left the ship. “Are your final checks done?” Tai shouted to Mik.
“Aye. Ready to lift anchor,” the man replied.
Tai took a deep breath, preparing himself to depart. With no cargo aboard, the ship was unusually light, so at least that would help them make good time. The sooner he got to Raun, the sooner he could grovel at his mother’s feet the way she wanted and return to Elsira. Then he would tell Lizvette he loved her.
He prayed to Myr it would not be too late.
The ship shuddered as it came to life. He pulled himself onto the broad deck to reel in the ramp. The thermoelectric engine was quiet, though a froth began to churn in the waters around it. But the gentle hum of the port activity was interrupted by a disturbance on the boardwalk lining the docks.
Grizzled sailors and dockworkers lined up, and all heads turned toward someone tearing through the crowd. A peach-colored silken gown decorated with wispy lace and beading was being held up in one small fist as its bearer raced across the creaking boards. A pair of fine legs ending in delicate shoes that had no business being in Portside were exposed in the mad dash.