The Myatheira Chronicles: Volume Two: Beyond the Veil

by Melissa Collins

  “Is there a difference, Phaezut?”

  Aiva recognized the thick words of the man leading the others. He sounded less confident than before. Taking a knee before the one addressed as Phaezut, he forced Aiva to bend further forward, nearly impaling her on the spears still pressed at her neck. “Indeed,” Phaezut nodded sharply. “What crimes have they committed?”

  “The pirates said Ven’shal soldiers intended to attack our people. These two match the description of the leaders.”

  “I might believe the story if the two before me now were Ven’shal. Are you sure the pirates were not misinformed?”

  “Yes, Phaezut.” The man stood, stiff in his movements. It was a relief to Aiva, granting some reprieve to the harsh angle of her back, releasing a minimal amount of pressure in the cuff around her neck. He reached into his jacket, clutching something in his hands. The chain pulled Aiva forward another step as he placed the contents on Phaezut’s outstretched palm, nodding emphatically. “We were told the leaders bear matching rings of their vile clan. Those were removed from the fingers of the prisoners.”

  Aiva drew in a sharp breath. Her ring! It was right there, so close to being within her grasp. Instinctively she tried to move toward it, her progress halted by tiny pin-pricks of pain as the spear-tips pressed into her neck just under her jaw. Phaezut glanced at her, tensed at her sudden movement, slowly relaxing once again at the sight of his men having her under control.

  Phaezut pondered over the rings while making his way back to the throne, settling himself on it, a curious expression on his face. “Spearmen. At ease,” he commanded. At the directive, Aiva felt the pain in her neck subside, the two men retracting their weapons, stepping away to stand near the entrance of the room. “Tell me, Vor’shai,” Phaezut gazed at Aiva, stern. Calm. “Where did you get these rings?”

  “The rings you hold in your hand belong to my husband and I,” Aiva stated, finding the title odd. Husband. Callum was her husband. Until they returned to Tanispa, she wasn’t lying in utilizing the term. “They were bestowed upon us by my mother and father for our wedding ceremony. The rightful symbol of my status.”

  “I know little of the northern people, but I was taught of their royal houses. These rings bear the Levadis crest.” Phaezut pinched one of the rings between his wide fingers, holding it out for everyone in the room to see. “To claim ownership of a trinket such as this, you proclaim yourself to be of the Levadis line. It is a high offense to masquerade as royalty.”

  “It is no masquerade.” Aiva was content with the steadiness of her tone. She sounded confident. If only she could get the rest of her to feel the same. This was no military leader she stood before. He appeared some type of king. Well-versed in the governments of other countries. If she could convince him of her heritage, he might be persuaded to let them go. “I am Aiva Levadis, eldest daughter of Queen Leyna Levadis and King Thade of the Vor’shai.”

  “And what would the royal family of Tanispa require in our desert?”

  “We seek the pirates,” she explained. “They are led by a woman known as Ireni Moura. She is in possession of my sister, Princess Shaelyn. She was kidnapped by the pirates who have brought her through Palinon in attempts to reach Luquarr where she will be sold into slavery, or ransomed. Our only business in your country is to find them and retrieve the Princess. We mean no harm to your people.”

  “And the man here with you?”

  “He is my husband.”

  Phaezut’s brow rose inquisitively toward the man holding the chain leash at Aiva’s neck. “Why is he bleeding on my carpet?”

  “He attacked me, Phaezut,” the man stammered. “We did what was necessary to protect ourselves. To protect the palace.”

  Free of the spears hindering her motion, Aiva turned her head to stare directly at Phaezut. He seemed a reasonable man. Not incapable of understanding their plight. “If I may be so bold as to defend, Sir. My husband would not have attacked if your man had not struck me first. We intended to come willingly, but our people do not take kindly to having their Princess beaten.”

  “Is this true?” Phaezut rose to his feet, a flash of anger visible in his large eyes. “Eshaoq. Did you raise your hand to this woman without cause?”

  “I believed she would attempt to fight, Phaezut – ”

  “Did she give you cause to strike?”

  The man bowed forward once again, tugging Aiva off-balance, dropping her to her knees. Without the use of her hands she nearly toppled forward, barely maintaining her posture. “She did not, Sir,” he mumbled hesitantly. “But she caused injury to one of my men when we apprehended her. It was within my rights…”

  “Release her bindings!” Phaezut shouted, his voice echoing through the spacious room. “Eshaoq, you are excused. We will discuss your behavior another time.”

  “But Phaezut – ”

  “You are excused!”

  The other Feh Noq soldiers rushed to Aiva’s side, their hands quickly working at the cuff around her neck to free her of its restrictive hold, relief flooding her to feel the manacles on her wrists also slipping away. With the chains collected, the men hurried back to their positions, awaiting further command. Eshaoq was already gone by the time Aiva raised her eyes to look around, breathing in a deep swallow of air. Respectful of Phaezut’s obvious authority, she started to give a deep curtsy, finding the motion awkward without the usual garments of a lady. Proudly, she gave a proper bow, mimicking the mannerisms she’d witnessed Edric and her father use when greeting members of other courts.

  “Unhand the Prince,” Phaezut waved irritably to the soldiers still gripping tightly onto Callum’s arms. Immediately they released their hold, his limp body pitching forward without the support of the men. Desperate to keep him from collapsing to the ground, Aiva stepped forward, arms extended, catching Callum against her. The jarring sensation stirred him from his involuntary slumber, blinking at her dazedly. “Tell me, Princess.” Phaezut’s voice called her attention away from Callum, afraid of what he might say. They weren’t in the clear yet. While inside the walls of Phaezut’s palace, they remained at his mercy. “I was to the understanding that the women of your culture were more feminine. Why would a lady of your supposed station dress like your men?”

  Aiva couldn’t contain a quiet chuckle at the question. He wasn’t convinced of her claims. Not that she blamed him. It was a valid point. “With all due respect, Sir, a gown is hardly fitting for traversing the desert. I am clothed in this fashion because it was the most sensible choice.”

  “Why would these pirates find it necessary to mislead us of your intentions? We have conducted business with them in the past and found them honorable enough. I will not discount their claims so quickly when I have only just met you.”

  “If they had admitted their true purpose of entering your deserts – to transport a kidnapped princess – would you have allowed them to pass? Deceit is their most efficient course of action. Our time in your prison has set us back days in catching them. I fear even now they may have already reached the shores and begun their journey to Luquarr, believing they have successfully played us all for fools.”

  Callum’s weight was more than Aiva anticipated. Exhausted and famished from their excursions, she struggled to maintain her hold, stumbling forward under the strain. In his state of groggy consciousness, Callum tried to support some of his own weight, easing the burden, though only minimally.

  “The Feh Noq are not fools,” Phaezut snorted. “I am Phaezut. Leader of my people. If the pirates have in fact utilized trickery, we will see them punished for the insult.” Snapping his strange blackened fingers, he motioned toward the spearmen at the door. “Gather the troops. Comb the desert to the coast. If they are still on our land, bring them to me. Kehprit. Ashoec,” he gestured to one of the soldiers that had been restraining Callum, “take the Prince and Princess to the guest quarters. See their injuries tended and their accompanying men released. We will determine what further course to take once
they are in suitable condition.”

  “Thank you, Sir,” Aiva nodded graciously. It was more than she could have hoped for. She only wished that they could get back on their way sooner. They had lost too much ground between them and Shaelyn already.

  Moving to follow the men directed to assist them, she felt the weight of Callum’s body lifted from her arms, gathered once again by the Feh Noq, though with more care than before. She’d taken only a single step when her attention was drawn to Phaezut again, his voice revealing a sense of amusement.

  “Oh, and Princess,” he gave a strange smile, his tiny teeth glinting in the torchlight of the room. “You may want these back.” Moving forward, Phaezut grabbed onto Aiva’s hand lightly. No sign of malice. Turning over her palm, he placed the two sparkling rings onto it, tightening Aiva’s fingers overtop the jewelry to keep it from falling. Patting her arm gently he motioned for her to go with the others. “You and the Prince will be my guests at dinner. We will talk more then.”

  Inside the Feh Noq palace Aiva found everything surreal. Never before had she seen anything like it, the walls made of stone, seemingly cut into the side of a large outcropping. Windows were spaced at strange, random intervals around the outside of the structure, some higher to the flat ceiling, others lower to the ground, none of which contained glass. Tile floors decorated the rooms where they were escorted. There was little in the way of furniture aside from a few chairs and a metalwork bed, a sheer curtain of gauzy silk draped from the high posts to create a canopy.

  Feh Noq maids bustled about the chambers to prepare for their guests. Seated on a small stool before a mirror, Aiva slouched awkwardly, her height making it difficult to stay on the tiny surface of the makeshift chair, designed for the more compact figures of the desert people. One of the maids toweled the water from Aiva’s hair, brushing away tangles caused from their days of travel through the harsh sands. It felt good to be clean. Really clean. Cleansed by an actual bath with gentle soaps – and privacy. No need of ducking behind rocks. Under any other circumstances she might have enjoyed the intrigue of their situation. Meeting the strange leader of an unfamiliar race. Learning of their unique culture. But all she could think about was Shaelyn. Her sister was out there, most likely already at sea with the dreadful pirates; and here Aiva found herself held by political responsibilities to secure their release from the Feh Noq hold without creating harsh relations between the Vor’shai and the desert.

  The maids were at a loss when it came to Aiva’s long hair. Their people had little need for styling, the strands of their own hair short, requiring no care aside from cleaning away the sand. Women could be recognized by their somewhat longer locks, but even they adorned it with only small clips, lacking the length to do anything else. Smoothing Aiva’s hair, she watched them place a single desert lily on the right side, just above her ear, the vibrant white petals creating a stark contrast to the deep ebon shade.

  Rising to her feet, she stared at her reflection, a smiling softly to herself. The standard dress of the Feh Noq ladies was an unusual style compared to those of the Tanispan court. Simple. Most wore nothing but a thin white fabric garment to allow reprieve from the hot desert climate. The dresses available were far too small for Aiva to wear. In an attempt to adjust the length, the maids draped an additional piece of a gently-dyed blue material around her hips, clasped at the center of her slender waist by a large gem-encrusted brooch. The ensemble blended well enough to pass as an actual dress, the blue fabric brushing the tiled floor over Aiva’s bare feet while the slashed sleeves provided ample movement for her longer arms.

  Content with her appearance, the maids hurried on their way to prepare dinner, giving their assurances that someone would come for her and the Prince when it was time. No matter how much it was said, Aiva couldn’t get used to hearing the title. Prince. The only prince she had ever accepted was Edric, and he wasn’t there. These people considered Callum royalty. And by the technicalities of their current union, he was in fact a prince. Until coming face to face with the Feh Noq, she’d never considered it before. Throughout the journey the other men, including Gadiel, Callum’s closest friend in the unit, had continued to refer to him as Captain Zerne. Perhaps out of habit. In truth, that name no longer belonged to him. Since the completion of their vows, Callum was of the Levadis line now. He had taken the family name of his wife, as was customary of their people. A simple detail which had been overlooked due to their hasty departure from court.

  Absently, she lifted Callum’s wedding ring off a small table situated in front of the mirror, tilting it to one side. The flickering light from the sconces on the walls played off the diamonds set into the crested surface. It matched her own; though wider in design. More masculine. Any man who wore that ring was considered royalty. The crest was sacred to the Levadis family and they were fastidious about who bore the symbol. It had represented the throne of the Vor’shai people since before anyone could remember, dating back to the first kings and queens known in Tanispa. And this particular ring was intended only for the future King. The man who would rule alongside Aiva when her time came to step into the role of Queen.

  Callum was a good man. She knew that now. Her concerns regarding his loyalty had been misplaced and foolish. Lies fed to her by the despicable Lord Dacian. It pained her to think how easily she’d been willing to believe them. To turn her back on Callum. Her best friend. The one person she’d considered almost like a brother since the day she was born. It was amazing what emotions could make a person do. And she hated herself for it. She loathed to think of the mistreatment Callum had endured under her ridiculous notions and selfish anger toward his decision to join the military instead of spending his entire life in her company. His company was all she’d wanted, and now that she had been granted her wish – the matching rings in her hand symbolizing their eternal union – she had let everything get in the way.

  Shaking her head, she lowered the ring down, sliding it onto her thumb to prevent it from getting lost. She couldn’t think about it right now. There were more important things that demanded her attention than her self-loathing. She was the Princess. It was her duty to conduct herself with grace and poise before the ruling factions of other countries. That wouldn’t be possible if she was wallowing in her own pity. There would be time to focus on her mistakes later. Right now she needed to secure the assistance of the Feh Noq in order to get their men back on track and rescue Shaelyn.

  She wanted to find Callum. Phaezut would be expecting them to arrive together at dinner. Upon being shown to their quarters, he had requested to be taken to his men to verify their safety and release from the prison. Although the room was intended for them to share, she doubted he would return to it. He was adamant about limiting their time alone together. Securing their case for the annulment. It was thoughtful of him, though she wished he would be less dedicated to the idea. Without an opportunity to speak in private, it would be more difficult for her to convince him to argue against the annulment. She wanted to make him fight it. To have him insist she change her mind so that she could concede without having to admit her own foolishness. Pride was one thing she had always possessed far too much of. Her mother scolded her for it constantly, but it wasn’t within her control to simply let it go.

  With determined strides she moved through the door into the bedchamber, pausing with a sharp intake of breath to find Callum seated there, head bowed, unaware of her entrance. He was cleaned and changed from when she’d seen him last. A much needed brush had been taken to his brown hair, the dirt and blood washed from his handsome features, replaced now by a few more bruises and cuts than Aiva had noticed before from under the mask of sand and sweat. Unlike her own style of dress, he was clothed in the familiar uniform of the Tanispan military, although she had only seen him wear that particular doublet on one other occasion. The formal attire of the Captain. Rich black fabric edged in a gold trim, matching buttons fastened in two lines down the front. Despite the somber look Aiva could see in
his eyes, she found him oddly attractive. Surprisingly regal. If he would just smile, he would have no issue passing as a prince in front of Phaezut.

  “Callum?”

  He glanced up at Aiva, clearly taken off guard by her silent approach. “Aiva,” he stated quickly, rising to stand in front of the bed, arms at his sides, rigid. “I’m sorry. I know I should not be here, but it seemed best if we arrive at dinner together. To avoid suspicions from our host. I have already spoken with Kaemin and Gadiel. They have both offered me to stay with them in their quarters to avoid issue with the sleeping arrangements between – us. You and me.”

  Aiva couldn’t help but smile at his discomfort. He was afraid of upsetting her. If only he knew! “You don’t have to apologize,” she chuckled, stepping closer. His tension increased with every motion she took, swallowing hard as she came to pause in front of him. “I was thinking the same thing, to be honest. You must have read my mind.”

  “Your mind is impossible to read, Your Highness. I think it is safer to believe we coincidentally shared similar thoughts.”

  She grimaced at the formality of his address. Your Highness? That was no way to speak to a friend. “Why do you utilize that title with me, Callum? We’re friends. And as far as the Feh Noq are concerned, we are husband and wife. In their presence, you can’t be so stiff. You look as if you are afraid of me.”

  “In a way, I am,” he frowned. “I don’t know how to act around you, Aiva. We say we’re friends, but then we always end up fighting. And now we’re going into this dinner and I’m supposed to play your husband – I am in no way prepared for how I should behave. I’m concerned about whether or not we are capable of spending the entire evening in each other’s company without spilling blood.”