Not long after they started eating, Phaedra and Arrian arrived. The two were staring at each other like a couple of lovesick idiots—which was nothing new. They seemed oblivious to everyone around them as they leaned close, talking to each other in hushed tones.
Her father and Uncle Wil arrived, followed by Rothatin. Adrah was the last to appear, taking her seat at the head of the table. She neglected to help herself to any of the food, seeming content to allow them all to eat and catch up before the official business began.
Before long, everyone had been brought up to speed on everything that had happened both in Fallada and on Earth. Jocylene eyed Phaedra with concern, noticing for the first time that she still looked exhausted from her ordeal. However, she seemed fine, and Arrian’s attentiveness probably ensured that she wasn’t pushing herself too hard, too fast. She didn’t say anything out loud, knowing well how it felt to be coddled after a brush with death. Like her, Phaedra was tough. She would resent being made to sit on the sidelines while two battles raged in Fallada.
“We must split our forces between Inador and Mollac,” Adrah declared, echoing what she’d already told Jocylene the night before. “General, I would like you to lead the first unit to Inador.”
Rothatin nodded, his expression remaining in its usual passive mask. “Of course, Your Highness.”
“Accompanying you will be Jocylene, Arrian, and Phaedra,” she continued. “You will journey first to Skel’gar and gather as many Dwarf warriors as you can. King Adoine has ordered the mining of iron in order to craft more weapons that can be wielded against the Dark Fae. If he is amenable, those weapons should be dispersed in Inador. They will be needed.”
“We will depart for Skel’gar the moment everyone is ready,” Rothatin declared, glancing at first Arrian, then Phaedra, and finally Jocylene.
“I’m ready,” Jocylene answered. In truth, she was bursting at the seams, itching for something to do. Finally, she was going to be allowed to leave Goldun.
“So are we,” Phaedra said, clinging tight to Arrian’s hand.
Arrian remained silent, as he had since here the news of an impending attack on Inador. It had to be stressful knowing your friends and family were in danger. Thankfully, they should arrive in plenty of time to defend it.
“Titus, I would like for you and Gretchen to accompany the Brothers Grimm to Mollac, taking with you another two hundred of my Warrior Fae,” Adrah continued. “With Eranna likely already in Fallada, it will not be long before she begins gathering her forces to march on Mollac.”
“With your permission, I’d like to gather any Werewolves here who want to join the fight,” Titus replied. “Many of the new refugees from Mollac will want to return home. If they can fight, they can defend Mollac, or they might not have a home to go to.”
Adrah nodded, giving Titus one of her soft, knowing smiles. “A wise plan, Titus. Do what you must.”
“If it’s all right, I’d like to return to Damu,” Selena spoke up from Titus’ side. “Since it seems I won’t be fighting anytime soon, I think it’s best if I go home. I want to have my baby with my mother at my side.”
“Another good idea,” Wilhelm chimed in. “While we are there, we can entreat King Eldalwen to send a force of wind warriors and Centaurs with us to Mollac to help bolster Queen Desdemona’s army.”
“My father will approve, I’m sure,” Selena replied. “Damu is secure enough now that he can afford to part with some of his army.”
“Crap,” Gretchen muttered under her breath. “Guess I can’t put off being a disappointment to my birth dad for much longer.”
Reaching out to pat her hand where it rested on the table, Jocylene gave her a reassuring smile. “I’ve met King Eldalwen, and I’ve heard about what a badass you are. He’s going to love you.”
She smirked and shrugged as if she weren’t quite sure, but didn’t reply.
“Then it is settled,” Adrah declared, rising to her feet. “You should all depart soon, in order to cover as much ground as you can before nightfall. The forest is likely crawling with Eranna’s minions now that they have been chased out of Mollac, and as you all know, they are strongest after the sun sets. I urge you to travel safely, and proceed with caution. To lose any of you now would be a devastating blow.”
Everyone began standing, talking over plans for gathering provisions before setting out. The low buzz of voices filled the room, but before everyone could disperse, Adrah held up her hand to gain their attention.
“Before we disperse, I do believe congratulations are in order,” she declared. “Despite the gloomy tidings of war, we should take the time to celebrate the joys of life.”
A hush fell over the room, and Jocylene glanced around, wondering who in the room might be pregnant, or had discovered some new, awesome ability.
Then, it hit her. Her gaze swiveled to Rothatin just before Adrah said the words. If he felt her looking at him, he did not acknowledge it, keeping his passive stare on the queen.
“General?” Adrah prodded.
Clearing his throat, Rothatin glanced around at the people surrounding him ... everyone except Jocylene. In fact, she felt certain he was pointedly not looking at her.
“I am to be wed,” he announced, his face flushing a bit as if being put on the spot had embarrassed him.
Interesting. She would never have thought him capable of being embarrassed.
“You’re engaged?” Selena squealed with a huge smile on her face. “To who?”
“You are all very familiar with my chosen bride,” he replied. “I asked En’im to marry me, and she has accepted.”
“That is wonderful news,” Jake declared, rounding the table to extend a hand to Rothatin. “Congratulations, General.”
As one, they all converged on him, shaking his hand and—in the case of Phaedra and Selena—hugging him, offering their congratulations.
“I had no idea,” Selena said, wrapping her arms around his neck. “I hope you two will be happy together.”
Numb from shock, Jocylene looked on in silence. She was uncertain why the announcement had left her feeling this way, when she was happy with her own mate, and had been for some time now. She no longer had feelings for Rothatin, nor should it matter to her when he got married, or to whom.
Then why the ache in her gut at the announcement? Why the embarrassed flush on her cheeks when she found him staring at her expectantly, as if waiting for her to say something?
Forcing a smile, she made her limbs move and crossed the room toward him. The others parted to make way for her as if they, too, expected something from her.
“I’m happy for you,” she said, reaching out to offer him her hand. “Congratulations. En’im is a lucky woman.”
Taking her hand, he bowed over it, keeping a grip on it a second longer than necessary. “I can assure you that I am the fortunate one here. Thank you, Princess.”
He dropped her hand and looked away abruptly, turning to Arrian to engage him in discussion—likely about their journey to Inador. Jocylene blinked and looked away, moving toward the girls, who stood chattering excitedly.
“Gretchen, you haven’t lived until you’ve been to a wedding in Fallada,” Selena was saying. “The music, the food ... it’s the best time.”
“Jocylene’s wedding was amazing,” Phaedra chimed in. “With Rothatin being Fae royalty, I bet his will be off the chain.”
“Sounds like fun,” Gretchen replied. “Speaking of which ... where’s your husband, Jocylene? I heard he was a hottie.”
Phaedra snorted. “Hottie is an understatement.”
Selena fanned herself and pretended to swoon. “Amen, sister.”
“Hey,” Jocylene said with a smirk. “I’m standing right here.”
“Whatever,” Phaedra teased. “You know how hot he is. Not drooling over him would be an insult to his manhood.”
Gretchen raised her eyebrows. “I’m thinking I really need to meet this guy. How hot can he be?”
Gra
bbing her shoulders, Phaedra looked into Gretchen’s eyes with a grave expression. “Jesse Williams, hot.”
Gretchen’s mouth fell open. “The hot doctor from Grey’s Anatomy with the blue eyes?”
Phaedra nodded. “Yes.”
Gretchen glanced at Jocylene. “And you allow him to leave the house?”
Shoulders shaking with laughter, Jocylene shrugged. “I’m not the only one around here with eye candy. Have you seen Titus?”
“Hey, watch it,” Selena warned, a mock expression of anger scrunching her nose. “That’s my baby daddy you’re talking about.”
“I’d let him knock me up, that’s for sure,” Phaedra mumbled.
“Right,” Selena replied. “Because being with the prettiest man on the face of the earth isn’t enough for you.”
“Arrian is ridiculously pretty,” Phaedra agreed. “Prettier than me ... which does put a dent in my confidence sometimes.”
Before anyone could reply, Titus strolled up, draping one arm around his mate and the other around his sister-in-law.
“Okay, what are we discussing over here?” he asked.
Jocylene exchanged glances with Selena, then Phaedra and Gretchen. At once, all four of them burst into laughter, leaving Titus wrinkling his brow.
“Never mind,” he grumbled. “I doubt I want to know.”
Wiping away tears caused by laughter, Jocylene waved to the others and left the throne room to gather things for the journey. It was good to have them around again. Maybe, with her fellow princesses back in the mix, she wouldn’t have time to dwell on the reason for her confused feelings about Rothatin’s engagement.
You just miss your mate, she told herself, which was true enough.
The sooner they got these battles over with, the sooner he could come home, and all would be well in her world again.
Hours later, the wind whipped through Rothatin’s hair as he soared on the back of Archimedes toward Inador. Since their travelling party was small and did not want to draw attention to themselves, he’d decided that they would take an Undays’e escort. Seated behind him in the saddle was Phaedra, who had her arms wrapped around his waist. She seemed to be enjoying the flight, giving a little laugh every time he banked left or right, or urged Archimedes higher.
Nearby, En’im flew with Arrian behind her. A few times, she swooped her hawk close to his owl, and gave him a knowing smile. Arrian would wave to Phaedra, or blow her a kiss, and the two would try to exchange words over the sound of the wind. Seeing them return to each other left him wondering what had led to the reconciliation. Arrian had broken Phaedra’s heart, and for a while he’d been annoyed with the male. Rothatin had been the one to console her, felt her tears soaking his shirt as she’d wept over their fractured relationship. But, it was not his place to cast judgement. When it came to love, he might just be the ineptest creature in the universe. Love had never worked out well for him. Arrian and Phaedra were happy again, and he supposed that was all that mattered.
Another Fae Warrior carried Jocylene, who had kept her gaze fixated on the horizon through the entire flight. Her silence was, to say the least, unusual ... but then he realized she must be under a tremendous strain. The threat toward Inador was probably the least of her worries when her mate was clear on the other side of the kingdom, preparing to fight in a battle without her—the same battle in which her sister would fight. The prospect of not being able to go to them had to be eating her alive.
He wanted to ask her if she’d like an escort to Mollac instead of remaining with them in Inador. He wanted to reassure her that everything would be all right—she was a strong fighter, and so was Eli. They would fight to see another day ... and each other.
However, it was not his place. It hadn’t been his place for quite some time. Now that he was betrothed to En’im, it was time for him to stop stepping over the boundaries surrounding them both. He had toed the line quite a few times, and all it had done was cause them both more pain. It was time to let go.
Tearing his gaze away from her, he turned his attention to studying their surroundings, remaining on high alert for Dark Fae. Their flight continued uneventfully, so they pushed on through the night, with everyone except for the Fae and their birds falling asleep here and there. Phaedra’s cheek rested against his back as she slumped against him, and across from them, Arrian dozed.
The hours passed him by in a blur of clouds and stars, until, finally, the sun rose to reveal that they’d arrived at the Dwarf city of Ske’lgar. Below them, Jocylene’s rock sentinels stood guard over the entrance into the mines, while a tangle of vines and red roses decorated the green landscape with bursts of color.
Signaling the others to follow him, he began to descend, circling a few times to ensure the way was clear.
The earthen guards—created from soil and rock by Jocylene’s hands—seemed to perk up as they approached, preparing to defend Skel’gar if necessary. However, they backed down when Jocylene approached, waving them away with a dismissive wave.
“Down, boys,” she murmured, hands braced on her hips. “Mama’s home.”
Obeying her command, the sentinels stood aside at attention, keeping their gaze fixed in various directions to watch for other threats.
They were greeted just within the entrance of the tunnel by a Dwarf wearing chainmail and armor, with several metal rings adorning his braided beard.
“Your Majesty!” he bellowed at the sight of Jocylene. “It does these old eyes good to see you.”
With a laugh, she raced forward and bent down to hug the Dwarf, whose round cheeks flushed as he returned the embrace. She kissed his forehead, which only made his face redder.
“Gorgo,” she said with affection in her voice. “How have you been?”
“Well enough, my lady,” Gorgo answered with a sheepish grin. “My wife gave birth just a week ago. The new babe is strong and healthy.”
Jocylene gasped and smiled. “Oh! I had no idea she was so close to having the baby. Boy or girl?”
“A girl, and a pretty little thing,” Gorgo boasted proudly.
“What did you name her?” she asked.
Plucking a blossom from one of the wild vines nearby, Gorgo extended it to her with a grin. “Rose.”
Smiling, Jocylene accepted it. “It’s a beautiful name. You honor me.”
Gorgo swept into a bow. “I wanted to name her after something strong and beautiful. What better way than to draw inspiration from than the symbol of Skel’gar’s champion?”
“Oh,” Jocylene said suddenly, seeming to have forgotten their reason for traveling halfway across the realm. “Gorgo, have you met General Rothatin?”
“Can’t say I’ve had the pleasure,” Gorgo replied, stepping forward to extend a hand to him. “I am honored, General.”
“As am I,” Rothatin replied politely.
“This is Arrian Riverleaf of Inador, and Princess Phaedra of Zenun,” she continued. “We’ve come to speak with King Adoine about an important matter.”
Seeming to sense that it was dire by Jocylene’s grave tone, Gorgo frowned. “Is it war?”
Grasping the Dwarf’s shoulder, Jocylene sighed and nodded. “I’m afraid so ... but then, we did know this day would come. It’s time to fight.”
Nodding decisively, Gorgo motioned for him to follow them down into the cave. “Then there’s no time to lose.”
Gesturing for everyone else to precede him, Rothatin watched as Gorgo, Jocylene, Arrian, and Phaedra disappeared into the dark tunnel leading into the mines. The Warrior Fae followed, their muted glow brightening the darkness considerably. Pausing beside him, En’im reached out to take his hand.
The affection felt odd to him, but he allowed it, clutching her hand back. If they were going to marry, he needed to conjure some sort of fondness for her. He supposed comfort with such intimacy would come in time.
“Are you ready?” she asked, seeming to sense hesitation on his part.
Glancing at her, he realized she was ask
ing if he was ready to follow the others into the mines. For a moment, he’d thought she was asking him about something else entirely.
He nodded, tightening his grip on her hand. “Yes. I am ready.”
Leading her into the darkness, Rothatin told himself that even though he wasn’t quite ready now, he would be. Come hell or high water, he would be ready. He had no choice but to be.
Chapter Seventeen
DESDEMONA SLOWLY OPENED her eyes, groaning at the feeling of grogginess that left her head feeling heavy. The sun streaming through her open drapes stung her eyes, causing her to snap them shut once more. Wrinkling her brow, she tried to remember if she’d had too much wine the night before. Why else would her head be pounding, or her stomach roil with such ferocity?
Yet, when she tried to remember the night before, she drew a blank. The last thing she recalled was spending her morning and afternoon flying over Mollac to look in on each of the villages. After her conversation with Elwin, she remembered nothing.
Odd.
Perhaps she’d tired herself out, doing too much in a short time span. And today, there was even more for her to accomplish.
“Your Majesty.”
The soft voice coming from her bedside startled her into a sitting position. Her eyes flew open, and she glanced around, disoriented. Her gaze fell on the slight figure seated at her bedside, dressed in pristine white robes trimmed in silver lace, the hood lowered to reveal her shaved head. Her blinded eyes seemed to stare straight at Desdemona.
“Gods, Zara!” she snapped, pressing a hand to her pounding forehead. “You nearly frightened me to death.”
“My apologies,” she replied, rising and approaching the bed. “Many new developments have come to me in my dreams, and I thought it best to deliver them immediately.”
Running a hand through her disheveled hair, she sighed. “Very well. At least allow me to ring for breakfast. I’m famished. I feel as if I haven’t eaten in ages.”
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