Flight of the Phoenix

by Alicia Michaels

  “Where are we going?” she asked, glancing over her shoulder to watch as the tiny Water Sprites continued jumping and dancing on the surface of the river.

  “To my treehouse,” he declared. “I assumed you would want to take a moment to freshen up before meeting my sister.”

  Reaching up to touch her bedraggled hair, she sighed with relief. “Oh, thank God.”

  Arrian chuckled. “I’d like the chance to wash the grime of travel off myself and change into clean clothing as well. I’ll send word to my sister that we are coming, then we can take our time preparing for the visit.”

  Pausing in front of a large tree, Arrian motioned for her to follow him up the wooden staircase built into the trunk. She followed it up, curving around the tree before arriving at the boughs, where Arrian’s home was situated.

  It spanned four trees—two across and two wide. Waiting for them in the open archway she assumed to be the entrance, stood a slender Elf male wearing a plain brown tunic and leggings.

  “Welcome home, my prince,” the man said, glancing at Arrian as he came up behind Phaedra. “And you’ve brought a guest.”

  “So I have,” Arrian replied with a wide smile. “Phaedra, this is Delos, my manservant. Delos, this is Princess Phaedra of Zenun ... my betrothed.”

  Shock flickered across Delos’ face for a moment, but he quickly recovered. “Word of an engagement has not yet reached Inador.”

  Wrapping his arms around Phaedra from behind, he pulled her up against him and rested his chin on top of her head. “That’s because you are the first person I’ve told.”

  Delos cracked a slight smile and bowed. “I am honored, my prince.”

  “Delos, I’ve asked you time and time again to stop calling me that,” Arrian chided, though his voice was laced with amusement.

  “And I have told you time and time again, that I will not,” Delos countered.

  “Indeed,” Arrian replied with a chuckle. “Will you show Phaedra where she can find appropriate attire for dining with my sister? Then, inform Jadis that I have arrived, and will be joining her for the evening meal with a guest.”

  Delos nodded. “Right away, my prince.”

  “And Delos?” Arrian added before the servant could lead Phaedra away.

  “Yes, my prince?”

  “You have no knowledge of my engagement to Princess Phaedra,” he warned.

  Delos bowed once more. “I hear and see nothing, my prince. I am as ignorant as a babe.”

  Arrian watched with amusement twinkling in his eyes as Delos took her arm and began to lead her away. “I’ll come find you in a while. I have to make myself pretty, as well.”

  She flashed him a smile on her way across the large treehouse. “It won’t take much!”

  He chuckled, parting ways with them to go into a room with an open door—she assumed it to be his bedroom.

  Delos led her into another room, with depictions of pixies and flowers etched into the walls and furniture carved from wood by hand. A small balcony overlooked the river and the meadow where the Nymphs continued playing with their flowers, and Satyrs created music with their flutes.

  “You will find a variety of clothing in the armoire, there,” Delos said, pointing to the wardrobe in the corner of the room. “In the bedside table, there, you’ll find an assortment of soaps and oils for bathing. There are towels for drying on your balcony.”

  Raising an eyebrow, she glanced around the room. “And the tub would be ...”

  “Outside,” Delos replied with an amused grin.

  Glancing at the balcony, she noticed a set of steps leading down to the river. Her face grew hot at the prospect of accidentally bumping into Arrian while bathing naked in the river.

  Seeming to sense her discomfort, Delos gave her a reassuring smile. “He knows you’ll go down to bathe first ... so he will wait an appropriate amount of time before descending. ’Tis the way things are done in Inador, I’m afraid.”

  Nodding, she smiled back. “Thank you.”

  He inclined his head and bowed before backing out of the room, closing the door. Turning to the wardrobe, she figured she might as well get a move on. No use stalling or trying to put off the inevitable.

  She could do this. She could get through dinner with Arrian’s sister and impress her. The woman would become her family someday, after all.

  Opening the armoire, she gasped, finding a dazzling array of women’s garments in a variety of colors and textures. Reaching out to touch the sleeve of a white and gold gown, she wondered who they belonged to. Likely a family member. Apparently, the Riverleaf clan was one of the largest in Inador. Arrian probably had a cousin or something who had left them here. Quickly laying out an ensemble, she retrieved soap and a vial of oil from the bedside table drawer and made her way out to the balcony, then down to the river.

  Two hours later, Arrian was leading Phaedra across a wooden bridge connecting his home to his sister’s. Pausing in the middle of the bridge, she pulled him up short.

  “Wait,” she said, glancing down to make sure her dress wasn’t wrinkled for the millionth time. “Are you sure I look okay? Is this dressy enough?”

  Arrian allowed his eyes to trace her from head to toe, appreciation making his eyes darken to a shade of navy. She knew that look well ... he liked what he saw.

  “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you so beautiful,” he said with a smile.

  That put her at ease. She had chosen a white, sleeveless gown that was etched with a swirling pattern on the bodice in gleaming gold thread. The dress was backless, with a delicate gold chain running between her shoulders and dangling a large clear stone against her back. A matching headpiece sat on top of her curls, which she had moisturized with the oils she found in her room, until they gleamed, fanning out around her face in a thick mass.

  Arrian wore a long, navy blue tunic and matching pants. The tunic was shot through with silver thread down the front, in a pattern like the one on her gown. He’d worn his hair loose, with a small section of it pulled back at the top and held by an ornate silver clasp.

  He looked delicious.

  “Do you think it’s too revealing?” she asked, indicating the back.

  He laughed, wrapping an arm around her waist and holding her against his side, forcing her to walk along with him. “Inador is warm all year round. Every woman here dresses this way. You’ll likely be more demure than Jadis.”

  She took a deep breath and let it out on a shaky exhale. “Okay.”

  “Relax,” he urged, drawing his fingertips down the center of her back.

  It relaxed her posture, while sending heat spreading across her skin. She melted into him, grateful for his steady presence.

  Reaching the open archway leading into Jadis’ home, they were greeted by a female servant dressed similarly to Delos.

  “Welcome, Prince Arrian,” she said with a bow. “Princess Phaedra.”

  “It is good to see you, Aeriel,” Arrian replied with a warm smile. “Please inform my sister that we’ve arrived.”

  Aeriel led them into a large sitting area, leaving them there—presumably to deliver the message to Jadis.

  Clenching her hands together, Phaedra glanced around the room without really seeing. It was richly decorated and spacious. Beyond it, she spotted a long wooden table and chairs, and assumed it was where they’d be eating.

  A few moments later, a woman with Arrian’s coloring entered the room. She only appeared to look a few years older than Arrian, but Phaedra knew that Elves, like the royals of Fallada, lived for centuries and ceased aging altogether after a while. There could be no telling how old she truly was without asking. With the same dark brown hair and piercing blue eyes as Arrian, Jadis was beautiful. As Arrian predicted, her green silk gown revealed more skin than Phaedra’s—with the same backless design as hers, but with a daringly low neckline. A suede strip of fabric with a large, green flower attached was tied around her neck, and she wore a jeweled headpiece, similar to Phaedra’s.<
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  “Brother,” she said, opening her arms to Arrian with a smile. “It’s so wonderful to see you.”

  After hugging him tight for a long moment, she stood back and looked him over, nodding with approval. “You appear well. Better than I’ve ever seen you.”

  Reaching out for Phaedra, he took her arm gently and nudged her toward Jadis. “Meet the person responsible ... Princess Phaedra of Zenun. Phaedra, this is my sister, Jadis.”

  Jadis smiled, but Phaedra could feel the Elf woman’s gaze assessing her as if searching out all her secrets. “Princess, it is an honor to meet you. Word has traveled far and wide of the royal daughter who broke my brother’s curse. Shame on him for taking so long to bring you to meet me.”

  Phaedra gave a nervous laugh. “I’m happy to meet you, Jadis.”

  “Come, sit down,” she said, gesturing toward the table. “Dinner will be served shortly. I can get to know you while we wait for our other guests.”

  Arrian faltered on his way to the table, his entire body going tense. “What other guests?”

  Jadis gave him a warning look. “Arrian ...”

  “What other guests, Jadis?” he demanded, his face beginning to redden.

  Phaedra gazed back and forth between the two of them, confusion knitting her brow. What had just happened? In an instant, the atmosphere had shifted from warm to cold.

  “She means me, little brother,” said a man’s voice from the doorway. “You didn’t think I would neglect to come see for myself that you were cured of your curse, did you?”

  Arrian clenched his jaw, the vein in his neck pulsating as Phaedra watched him fight to maintain control of his emotions. Taking a deep breath, he turned to greet the people standing in the front entrance.

  The male with the powerful build, dark hair, and blue eyes was surely Arrian’s brother. He would be as beautiful as Arrian if not for the arrogant curve of his mouth, or the look she found in his eyes—as if he were mocking everyone and everything he set his gaze on. His was a hard beauty—mocking and cruel.

  “Arandil,” Arrian growled, turning to face the man. “You’ve come and seen me. I’m myself again. Now, you can leave.”

  “Now, now, Arrian,” crooned a soft woman’s voice.

  Phaedra’s eyes widened as the petite female Elf appeared from behind Arandil, batting her long eyelashes at Arrian. She was stunning, with gleaming red hair and wide, green eyes, her skin tanned from the sun, and unblemished.

  “Will you not greet your brother and sister-in-law after so many years?” she added.

  “Arandil, Mohria,” Jadis said, keeping her voice passive. “Come in, and sit. We are waiting for dinner, and Arrian has just introduced me to Princess Phaedra.”

  Her voice held a warning, that as the oldest sister, she was in charge here and everyone was going to get along or suffer her wrath.

  “Ah, yes,” Arandil murmured, crossing the room toward her. “The lovely Princess Phaedra. The tales of how you made my brother beautiful again have reached us all the way from Goldun. Though, they did not quite do you justice, Your Highness.”

  Phaedra fought the urge to gag when Arandil took her hand and kissed it, giving her a little smirk. “Arrian has always been beautiful,” she declared. “Even when he was cursed.”

  “How sweet she is,” Mohria declared, joining them near the table. “It’s no wonder she was the one to break your spell, Arrian.”

  “Yes,” Arrian agreed, joining Phaedra at the table. “I am fortunate to have her.”

  Phaedra didn’t miss the look that passed between them. Arrian was fuming, and obviously unhappy about having to endure her company. Mohria was enjoying baiting him, and Phaedra could see she was the type of woman who enjoyed attention, whether positive or negative. That she could still get to Arrian seemed to amuse her.

  Reaching out, she laid a hand on top of Arrian’s, drawing his gaze to hers. She smiled at him, trying to put him at ease. He returned the gesture, seeming to relax a bit. Turning his hand over, he clutched hers tight. Perhaps a bit too tight, but Phaedra bore it in silence.

  Aeriel appeared with a pitcher of water, which she silently poured into each of their cups.

  “I am surprised you aren’t still attending the war council,” Arrian remarked, casting a glance at Arandil.

  “There was very little to discuss,” Arandil replied between sips of water. “We know that Kalodan Longspear is marching against us in two days. All the clan heads agree, we must prepare to defend Inador and the forests of Fallada. Preparations will begin at dawn tomorrow.”

  Arrian nodded. “It is good you were able to reach an agreement quickly. Phaedra and I will be available in whatever capacity we are needed.”

  Aeriel appeared again, with another servant at her side who helped her carry platters of food. For a long while, no one spoke while dishes were passed around. Phaedra helped herself to a little bit of everything, even though her stomach was still in knots. Things seemed to have calmed for now, but Arrian still looked as if he’d rather be anywhere else rather than sharing a table with his brother.

  After a few minutes of eating and small talk, Arandil swiveled his gaze to Phaedra.

  “Well, are you going to keep us in suspense much longer?”

  Phaedra frowned. “I’m sorry?”

  “My brother brings you to meet our sister, who has become more like a mother to us over the years,” he clarified. “He’s dressed as if he’s visiting the queen, and he looks as if he’s going to burst at any moment. An important announcement is coming sometime tonight, is it not? It’s the reason for this little gathering.”

  “A gathering you were not invited to,” Arrian snapped, glaring at his brother.

  “I invited him,” Jadis said firmly. “He’s our brother, and we are a family.”

  Arrian shook his head, going back to his meal, but simply poked listlessly at his food rather than eating it. Phaedra’s heart ached for him. This was not at all the way he’d wanted things to happen. This night was supposed to be special, and Arandil and Mohria were ruining it.

  “Family,” Arrian grumbled, slamming his fork down beside his plate. “Now there’s an interesting concept.”

  “Arrian ...” Jadis warned, giving him a glare.

  “No, Jadis, let him talk,” Arandil said with a cocky smirk, leaning back in his chair. “He’s always been the most emotional of us three. Always nursing his wounds over some slight he imagines someone committed against him.”

  Arrian shot to his feet, pounding one fist against the table. “You stole something from me! That is not how family behaves.”

  Arandil stood as well, but his posture remained relaxed, while Arrian looked as if he were ready to pounce across the table.

  “A man cannot take something from you if you have a firm grip on it,” Arandil challenged. “Perhaps the fault lies with you for being too weak to hold on to what you wanted.”

  Phaedra was on her feet, reaching out to wrap one hand around Arrian’s arm before he could lunge. She could see it in his eyes and his posture—he was about to blow a gasket.

  “Arrian, don’t,” she whispered.

  “Sit, both of you,” Jadis commanded. “Phaedra is going to think we’re completely insane.”

  “It’s all right,” she assured Jadis, even though she felt as if this entire thing was rapidly spinning out of control. She had no notion how to stop it.

  “There, see?” Mohria simpered. “The girl is gracious, just as a princess should be. If a few scales couldn’t keep her from kissing our Arrian, a little argument over dinner will hardly phase her.”

  Phaedra narrowed her eyes at the woman who had broken Arrian’s heart. “I am gracious, most of the time,” she said coolly. “But, not all of the time.”

  Mohria seemed to get the message and fell silent. However, she continued staring at Phaedra with an unmistakable glint in her eye.

  She was jealous.

  But, why? She had chosen Arandil over Arrian. Was it because she
liked the idea of them both chasing her—of choosing one and watching the other suffer?

  Phaedra liked this woman less and less by the second.

  “Jadis, I do believe it’s time for me to leave,” Arrian declared, reaching for Phaedra’s hand. “Come, let’s go.”

  Phaedra gladly placed her hand in his, hoping to make an escape before things got even uglier.

  “Arrian, sit down,” Jadis pleaded. “We’re all here, we might as well make the best of this. I want to hear the good news you have. Please.”

  Shaking his head, Arrian gave his sister an apologetic glance. “I’m sorry, Jadis, but I can’t do this. I wanted Phaedra to meet you, because aside from her, you are the most important person in my life. I was going to tell you that we are betrothed, and ask you for Mother’s ring to give her. I’d hoped this night would be special for Phaedra, because she cannot be with her own family right now. But, I suppose that was asking for too much given the history of this particular family.”

  Jadis covered her open mouth with one hand, tears filling her eyes. “Oh, Arrian ... I’m so sorry.”

  “It isn’t your fault,” Arrian mumbled, cutting his eyes at his brother.

  Arandil simply smiled. “Mother’s ring? Are you referring to this ring?”

  Phaedra glanced up to find that Arandil was pointing at Mohria, who held her left hand up for everyone in the room to see. On her left ring finger, a large, pale blue stone in a silver setting gleamed; a beautiful piece of jewelry.

  Arrian’s temples began to pulse, his eyes growing dark as he leveled a murderous stare at his brother. “Why is she wearing Mother’s ring?”

  Arandil scoffed. “Because I came and retrieved it years ago, when I asked Mohria to marry me.”

  “Mother promised that ring to me,” Arrian replied through clenched teeth.

  Mohria giggled. “Honestly, Arrian, you were a monster for over a century. Did you think you’d ever get the chance to use the ring?”

  “She’s right, you know,” Arandil taunted. “No self-respecting female would have had you. Besides, ’tis only a ring. There are others in the family you could give your princess.”