Chapter 10
SUNLIGHT warmed his skin, and Rhoane awoke on the sofa feeling as though he’d been trampled by a vorlock. He cricked his neck from one side to the other and stretched his back at the same time. The room was empty except for the queen, who rested atop the massive bed. The newborn prince suckled at her breast. Prateeni watched him with the steady patience of a levon tracking its prey.
Rhoane glanced away, embarrassed.
“Come here, Prince Rhoane,”the queen’s hoarse whisper commanded.
He did as told, still trying to avert his eyes from the intimacy of her child’s feeding.
“Does this make you uncomfortable? A mother giving nourishment to her young?”
“It is not proper for me to see you in a state of undress, Your Majesty.”
“Are all Eleri as uptight as you?”
Rhoane flashed her a warning look.
“Ah. They are. I apologize. Here, I am covered now. Your delicate Eleri senses will not be offended.”
“I meant no offense. I merely thought you would like some privacy.”
“I know what you thought. Sit. I want to discuss something with you.”
Rhoane sat upon the bed, at a discreet enough distance should anyone enter they would not think him being inappropriate, yet close enough the queen would not reprimand him.
“I want to thank you for saving our lives last night.”She placed a hand over her abdomen.“I can feel you, in here.”At Rhoane’s widened eyes, she explained.“Your ShantiMari—it is powerful in healing. I heard you and your lady. Begging me to remain calm, telling me when to breathe, when to push.”
“Faelara and I were worried about you.”
“Not Lady Faelara. The other one. A woman of immeasurable beauty with raven locks that swept past her arse. She looks like you, even.”
Rhoane’s heart sputtered in this throat, choking off air.
“Did I say something to upset you? Why are you looking at me as if I were a shadow walker?”
“Did this woman have a name?”
“None that she shared with me. Why? Who is she? I only recall the three of you arriving yesterday.”
Rhoane took a long breath and glanced to the ceiling, willing his eyes to dry.“I believe the woman you saw was my mother, Aislinn. She moved beyond the veils the day I left the Narthvier.” He returned his gaze to the queen.
Prateeni leaned against the headboard, her face a placard of emotions.“I am truly sorry for your loss, Your Highness.”
The prince’s little hands clutched at air while he nursed, making mewing sounds much like a kitten’s. Rhoane smoothed his full head of curls, shocked at how soft he was. Rhoane had helped in several births but had never held a child in his arms. Not even his younger siblings. They were always given to nursemaids after birth.
His eyes met Prateeni’s.“You feed your own child. Do you not have a wet nurse?”
“I nearly died bringing him into this world. Do you think I’m going to let someone else raise him? He is my son, and I shall be a part of every accomplishment and trial he has until he’s old enough to reign on his own.”A blush of pride swept over her cheeks.“My mother did the same for me. It’s only right I am there for my children.”
“Is it tradition for Summerlands women to be this involved?”
“I don’t know about tradition, but it’s what makes sense. Wouldn’t you agree? Why go through the trouble to have them if you aren’t going to raise them?”She shifted her position, and the baby let out a cry of displeasure.“Shh, little one. There is more.”She settled him against her other breast and smiled when he curled his tiny fingers over her own.“I should like to walk in the garden when he is fed. The sun always lifts my spirits.”
“You need to rest. Your body suffered trauma last night, and it will do no one good for you to collapse from exhaustion.”
“You healed me, remember?”
“I healed your womb. Even that needs time to recover.”
“I am healthy. Check for yourself if you don’t believe me.”She took his hand as if to place it over her heart. Rhoane pulled away, but she chided,“It’s only a breast, Rhoane. It won’t bite. Now don’t be ridiculous, feel my pulse. Tell me I’m not strong enough.”
She placed his hand firmly on her chest. He was certain the pounding he felt was his own heartbeat and not hers. Even with the women Amdi had thrown his way, Rhoane had never touched them. His healing was always done at a distance, nothing upon the body proper.
“My dear prince, are you going to declare me fit, or are you not?”
Rhoane kept his hand steady and focused on the queen’s heart. It fluttered with a consistency he admired. Strong, healthy, powerful. She was indeed fit. He shifted his attention to the rest of her body, examining the bones and muscles.“May I?” He placed his hands upon her shoulders.
“Look at you. One touch of my breast, and you can’t resist.”
Rhoane immediately snatched his hands away.
“Oh, for the love of gods, touch me. I get no more thrill from this than you.” She closed her eyes, a saucy smile on her lips.
Rhoane hesitated, unsure whether she jested or not. The desire to clinically observe her recovery was too great. He pressed his fingertips to her forehead and sent a thread of his power through her mind, avoiding her thoughts. His hands continued down her cheeks to her throat, where he paused while she swallowed. Satisfied, he slid past her clavicle to her shoulders and over her arms. Touch greatly magnified his ability to sense abnormalities within the body. Her blood pumped steadily through her veins, making a tiny rushing sound in his mind.
When he came to her midsection, he hesitated once more, but she clucked her tongue at him, and he resumed his examination. Her womb suffered still, but his ShantiMari continued to knit together where trauma had occurred. She would fully recover in time, but needed to be careful.
“You are gentle, like your mother,”Prateeni murmured.“I can sense her in your power.”
Rhoane glanced at the queen, who watched him with steady interest.
“She gave you a wonderful gift, Prince Rhoane. Strength and kindness, yes, but she gave something of much greater value. Her death gave you freedom.”
“How do you figure?”
“I know of the oracles and prophecies surrounding the Eirielle. The one your own Verdaine callsDarennsai. You are destined for her, but you are not tied to those prophecies in the way you believe. You still have power over your own future.”She leaned forward and touched his shoulder. A shock of her Mari sliced through him, startling him in its intensity.“You wear your anger like a badge, daring anyone to get too close. There is no reason for this rage.”
He wanted to argue, but she was right. He’d been nursing his ire since he was a lad. Believing he’d been forced into the oath and the loss of choice. He’d welcomed the battles in Ulla. They were his punishment. His eternal suffering for what he’d done to his mother.
A door opened, and the king’s voice bellowed into the room,“What in Julieta’s name is going on in here?”
Rhoane stared, dumbstruck, at the monarch. He’d forgotten his hands were still on the queen’s calves. Myrddin followed close behind, that damned mischievousness dancing in his eyes.
“The prince was having his way with me,”Prateeni said matter-of-factly. The king fumed, his face turning eight shades of red in the space of a heartbeat.“Darling, please. Rhoane was making sure I’m fit to leave this bed, nothing more.”
Rhoane removed his hands from the queen.“You may walk in the garden, but not for long. You are still healing.”
Myrddin approached the bed and reached for the little prince.“May I?”He cuddled the boy against his bearded chin, cooing like an over-proud grandfather.“He is strong as can be. You did a fine job, Your Majesty.”
Faelara joined them and waited patiently for her turn to hold the baby. After everyone finished with their kisses and cuddles, the queen retired to her dressing room to change before her stroll i
n the garden. Faelara led Rhoane to his suite of rooms, where a lavish meal had been laid out for him. He grazed on the delicious food, musing on what the queen had said to him.
His mother’s death had freed him.
From what? The constraints of Eleri life? Certainly not his obligation to his goddess. He shredded a piece of bread without thought. Prateeni had said she’d read oracles and prophecies about the Eirielle, and the empress had mentioned her as well. He needed to know everything they did about the girl. It might help with his search for her father.
A cluster of young women, all dressed in the skimpy skirts and tops of the Summerlands, giggled as they passed the doors leading to the inner courtyard of the palace. Someone had left the double glass doors open, which gave the women a glimpse into Rhoane’s rooms. Although unlikely, his Darennsai might someday come from the very child he had helped bring into the world.
“Is your meal that bad?”
Rhoane jerked his attention away from the window and his musings.“I did not hear you knock.”
“I imagine you didn’t. May I join you?”Myrddin took a seat opposite Rhoane before he’d consented.“I’m sorry I wasn’t here last night to assist with the birth. I thought we had more time.”He pushed his palms against his forehead.“I visited a spice merchant in the city and had him make up two potions. One for healing the queen, the other for easing her passing.”
“You were unsure she would survive the ordeal. But you told me this child must live. The future of her House depended on it. I assumed it had something to do with theDarennsai.”
“I wish I knew the future, Rhoane. I’ve found it useful to prepare for every situation. When you’ve lived as long as I have, you learn not to get too attached. The king and queen, they’re good people. Loving, kind, decent rulers who want the best for their subjects. I sometimes wish Lliandra could be more like them, but she is who she is. She was shaped by a tradition dating back to the beginning of Aelinae. As were Faisal and Prateeni, and every other ruler.”
His gaze traveled to the now empty courtyard. A throaty resonance entered his tone.“It’s time those traditions were remade. That’s why I think Aelinae needs the Eirielle. Some say she will destroy Aelinae, others say she’s the savior. In the end, it will come down to her.”
“You think I will have something to do with her decision.”
“You will have everything to do with it.”Myrddin bit into a piece of fruit, ignoring the juices that ran down his chin and through his beard. Three more bites were consumed before he wiped his face with his sleeve.“The king wants to go riding with you this afternoon.”
“Will you join us?”The idea of spending the day with Faisal didn’t bring joy to Rhoane’s heart.
“I’m afraid not. I have some business in the city and preparations for my departure.”
“We are leaving? So soon after the birth of the prince?”
“I’m leaving. You and Faelara are staying until you feel the queen’s health is not at risk.”
Rhoane didn’t tell him the queen was fit. He debated asking whether there was another reason they were being left behind, but he held back. Whatever reasons the empress had for sending Myrddin alone were hers. Truth be told, he didn’t relish the thought of continuing their search for his betrothed’s father.
“Lliandra wants me to ride west to Danuri, and then Caer Idris.”Myrddin broke into his thoughts.“The Lord of the Dark is blissfully wed with an eight-year-old heir, no less, but she’s heard he has a cousin who might be a proper match for her. I’ve been instructed to deliver him to Talaith.”
“I do not envy you this journey, but appreciate you allowing Lady Faelara and myself to care for the queen and her child.”
“Ride with Faisal. Get to know him as a king, a father, and a man. I think you will be surprised by what you discover.”
Myrddin’s cryptic words piqued his interest.“I promise you, I shall.” Perhaps Faisal was not the bellowing tyrant Rhoane thought him to be.
A few days later, the men said their farewells, and Myrddin unobtrusively left the palace. As Rhoane watched his new friend amble down the cobbled road toward the harbor, he wished him well on his hunt. For that’s what it truly was—a hunt for the perfect specimen. It mattered not if Lliandra loved her mate, as long as he could produce a worthy heir. Rhoane shook his head. Pity lodged in his throat. He hoped when the Darennsai learned of their pairing she would view him as more than an obligation.
Faisal beckoned Rhoane to join him, and for a moment, Rhoane envied the man. In one arm he held his tiny son, while the other draped casually over the shoulders of his wife. Their expressions were twin beacons of love. The pity in Rhoane’s throat gagged him. It was no longer for the empress, but for his unsuspecting future mate. She, like him, had never had a choice.
The king and queen cooed over their child, adoration flowing from their words. Rhoane swallowed his anger. The queen was wrong—he would never be free. He was in bondage to his goddess. He would never know the love the king and queen shared. He stormed past the monarchs, ignoring their surprised cries.
Chapter 11
LUCITAN galloped along the southeastern shores of the Summerlands, having left Menurra far behind. He’d ridden through orchards and vineyards, and fields where workers toiled in the midday heat, but here on the beach, there wasn’t another soul to be found. For one wild moment, Rhoane dreamt of living out the rest of his days hidden away from the rest of the world.
The coastline had many caves, certainly one was habitable. Except Rhoane hated water. He would never survive so near the sea. A cave in the mountains or near the Narthvier would be ideal.
Rhoane wore an impish grin as he dismounted and unfastened Luc’s girth. He placed the saddle and bridle on a patch of hard sand far from the surf.“Go on, boy. Graze on the tall grasses, but don’t drink the water.” Luc snorted and trotted off, shaking his head and bucking his back legs.
He removed his boots and rolled his linen breeches up to his knees before settling onto the sand. His thoughts crashed in time to the waves. The repetitiveness of the sound was like a lullaby to his stretched nerves. He lay back, propped on his elbows, and stared at the rolling waves. There was symmetry to their movements, and he wondered what made some water roil, like the surf of the sea, and some water placid, like lakes.
His spontaneous laughter frightened nearby birds that scavenged the shoreline. Those thoughts were better left for men like Brandt. Men who studied the stars. Not an Eleri who, until recently, had never seen moving water.
The sun warmed him into a tranquil state. He was tired of being angry, of questioning what was right, and he was more than tired of having the same debate over and over again within his mind. No matter how he approached the argument, he came no closer to finding a solution to his situation. He was being too impatient, not allowing the future to unfold as he’d been told, but trying to force his desires on destiny.
He touched the hilt of his sword. Verdaine had told him he’d know the Darennsai by her own sword. But where was it? And where was she? If Lliandra was to be her mother, who then, the father? How long must he wait for her? Eleri lived hundreds of seasons, perhaps he should find a cave and wait until destiny caught up to him.
The idea was amusing, but impractical. A shadow caught his attention and he squinted in the bright sunlight. The woman with eyes as blue as the deepest sea appeared before him. Her long, silvery hair floated on the breeze. She wore no clothing but was covered in stars, as if beneath her skin the very sky existed. She laughed, and it was the sweetest sound he’d ever heard. Full of hope and promises.
“Always be curious,”she teased.“Never accept that what you see is all there is.”Her accented voice touched his heart and embedded itself into his very marrow.“Take risks, make mistakes, and get messy. Be brave, and do what frightens you most, but always, always have hope, my beloved.” She bent as if to caress his cheek, and a warm breeze swept over his skin. Her lips pressed to his with surprising solidne
ss.
All too soon, their lips parted.
“Who are you?” He breathed the words, afraid any sound might frighten her away.
She laughed once more and stepped back.“I am yours, mi carae. Forever.”
Lucitan galloped up the shore, spraying water with each pound of his hooves. In an instant, he tore through the image, and Rhoane screamed at him to stop, but the woman was gone. Only the scent of jasmine and sea air remained.
He sat upright and glared at his horse. Luc gazed back with indifference, then turned suddenly and trotted into the surf.
“You stupid beast, come here at once.”Luc’s coat dripped from his shenanigans, and Rhoane cursed him under his breath.“We have no time for these games. Come. Here.”
Luc lowered his head to the surf, gathering water in his lips and showering Rhoane with it. If he didn’t know better, he’d think the stallion was challenging him. He paced the shore for a quarter bell, trying everything to coax his horse out of the water. Luc would prance and trot in circles, flip his mane and tail, spray water, or paw at the surf, but he never came a pace closer to the shore.
Irritated at the ridiculousness of his own fear of water, Rhoane finally stripped off his breeches and shirt, cursing the entire time. As he stood on the shore in nothing but his smallclothes, he glared at Lucitan.“See what you have done? You are forcing me into the water. Are you happy now?”
Luc whinnied and tossed his head.
“This is ludicrous. I should sell you to the Artagh. They will make a nice meal of you, no doubt.” He plunged into the surf and ignored the panic that swept up his spine. When the waves crashed around his knees, he paused long enough to battle a wave of nausea. Luc eyed him warily, but did not back away.
Six more steps, and Rhoane was beside his horse, gasping. The turquoise water lapping at his legs was warm, not at all menacing. He rested his head against the stallion’s neck and let his heart rate return to normal. The longer he stood there, the more comfortable he became.Take risks. Make mistakes.That’s what the vision had told him.
The Darathi Vorsi Prince (Song of the Swords Book 0) Page 9