The Myatheira Chronicles: Volume Three: Crown of Ice

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The Myatheira Chronicles: Volume Three: Crown of Ice Page 13

by Melissa Collins


  “It is the way of your people to drool on a woman’s hand when you learn her name?”

  “Kissing is far different from drooling…”

  “Not so far as you might think,” she scoffed. “You do not touch me without permission.”

  “Oh? So I am not to touch you, yet it is permissible for you to grab me and treat me like some creature on display for your observation? If that is the way of your people, then I’m not sure I approve.”

  Edric took satisfaction in seeing Neomi’s expression falter at his accusation. It was only fair. He had been polite enough to let her be so bold upon their meeting when he would have been within his rights to strike her for touching him so unwontedly. Still, he found himself unable to conjure any anger toward her for the insult which continued to burn the skin of his face. She had quite a hand. If her slap created such lingering pain, he hated to think what her fist was capable of in battle.

  “Please,” she replied quietly, glancing to the other woman who remained silent, watching them from afar. “I must speak with your Queen. It is a matter of life and death. Do you at least understand?”

  To his surprise, he did. It rang through him with more clarity than anything else this woman had spoken since he first stepped outside the palace doors. For some reason he believed her. There was something in her brilliant, flashing eyes that told him she spoke the truth. There was an urgency in them. Pleading with him silently though her pride wouldn’t allow her voice to do so. He felt compelled to help. He only wished he knew what her business was before he attempted to interrupt his parents from the party. “Very well,” he sighed, motioning for her to follow him toward the door. “I cannot guarantee they will see you immediately, but I will see what I can do.”

  Moving through the crowd in the ballroom, Edric kept his hand lightly pressed against the side of his face, hoping to conceal the redness from view while enjoying the slight reprieve it offered from the uncomfortable tingling sensation. He was hesitant about his decision to leave Neomi in the foyer alone. She clearly had no knowledge of their people the way Okivra had taught his son. It was a risk to leave her around anyone in the palace who might not know what to expect. Unfortunately, it was more of a risk to bring her into the crowded room. She was safer left where there were fewer people.

  He could see his parents standing near their thrones, speaking in lighthearted tones with the Consul and his wife. He wasn’t sure how to approach them with the news of Neomi’s arrival. It wasn’t usually his duty to announce guests to the King and Queen. Especially not when they were otherwise engaged.

  As he drew nearer his mother took notice of him, her smile widening. “Ah, Edric. There you are. We were beginning to think you and Callum had run away. Where have you been?”

  The smile he wanted to give his mother refused to take form on his lips. He couldn’t falsify happiness right now. He was too tired and confused. It came as no surprise when his mother’s smile faded, instantly aware of the discontent Edric exhibited. Gently she reached for his hand, lightly pressing it away from his face, inhaling a sharp breath at the sight of the redness visible there upon the skin.

  “Edric, what is going on?” his father questioned, gripping Edric’s chin to examine the injury more closely. “Who did this to you?”

  “Mother. Father. Might I be able to convince you both to step away from the party for a few moments?”

  “What is the meaning of this? Has something happened?” his mother stared at him, clearly concerned. He shook his head, not wanting to alarm them. There was no reason for them to worry. He just needed to get them to their chambers so they could speak with Neomi in private. Whatever she came there to say, he suspected it was somehow important to the Vor’shai as well as the Ovatai. Waiting until morning wasn’t an option when someone claimed it to be a matter of life and death.

  Resting his hand on his mother’s shoulder in consolation he gestured toward the door positioned at the rear of the room, only a few feet from where they now stood. It would grant them a means of exiting the ballroom without drawing attention to their departure. “There is someone here who needs to speak with you. I know you’re not accepting visitors this evening, but when you see who it is, you’ll understand why I insist you make an exception.”

  His mother’s gaze was steadfast. He could see the questions in her eyes though she chose not to ask them, understanding his reasons for not giving further detail while surrounded by so many people. She was a reasonable woman. He knew she would recognize the need for discretion. “Feolan. Maeri. If you will excuse us for a moment,” she said quietly, nodding politely to the Consul and his wife. They gave no argument, only staring at Edric in concern at what might have happened to spark the interruption. “Edric, your father and I will make our way to the throne room. Whoever the guest is, see them to us. We will discuss this later,” she tapped the side of his face. “Now, go quickly. Your father and I cannot be absent long.”

  Edric nodded to his parents graciously, waiting for them to disappear through the door before excusing himself from the questioning eyes of the Consul and his wife. Exhaling, he moved through the crowd, no longer caring about the mark on his face. Let the people talk. They could have their fun in speculation at his expense. Whatever it took to distract them from the hasty exit of the King and Queen.

  Once in the foyer he felt a sudden panic at the possibility of Neomi having wandered off alone in the palace. She didn’t come across as the most obedient woman. The simple fact that he had requested her to stand still might have been enough to spark her ire. To his relief she was standing where he left her, eyeing him curiously as he made his way to her side. “My parents will see you, but it will have to be quick,” he stated quietly, beckoning for her to follow. “I will present you to them. What is the proper title by which you should be addressed?”

  “Is Neomi not a suitable enough title for your people?”

  He laughed quietly to himself, afraid of her overhearing and taking offense. It was impossible not to be amused by the barrier between them. “It is suitable enough as a name. I refer to the proper title of your family affiliations. You are the daughter of the Chief. I assume there is a formal means of address?”

  “Do your people not call you Edric? Is that not sufficient?”

  “They do, but I am referred to formally as Prince Edric, to denote my family heritage. I figured your people would have a similar custom.”

  “Neomi will suffice. I am not pompous enough to require anything more than that.”

  Edric paused, glancing over to Neomi, somewhat offended by her remark. Pompous? Did she think him conceited for holding a title of dignity? “I have endured your comments with significant grace, if I do say so myself. This one I must question. Do you mean to insult me by referencing the use of titles as being pompous?”

  She averted her eyes from his, keeping her chin up while staring intently down the hallway, as if intentionally avoiding his gaze. “I find the practice of titles beyond the necessary denotation of a prominent leader to be a narcissistic display on behalf of those who utilize them.”

  “You consider my position to lack prominence?”

  “You are not the King, nor are you the Queen. What do you do exactly which is deserving of a station?”

  The question hit him harder than her hand ever could, rekindling the familiar pain which had been his burden for so long. He couldn’t answer her. What did he do? At the moment he was nothing more than a doorman with a crown. “I don’t expect you to understand,” he replied quietly, resuming his steps toward the throne room, shortening his strides to a slower pace. He was second-guessing his decision to present Neomi to his parents. It might have been a better decision for him to seek Callum to perform the task in his stead. At least then he might have been able to stand beside his parents when she was introduced. Such a position would give an image of importance beyond the impression Neomi already held for him.

  It was too late to turn back. He would have to earn th
is woman’s respect through some other means. She certainly held no degree of esteem for him based solely on his parentage. Why it bothered him so much, he couldn’t understand. Was this not what he wanted? A woman who cared nothing of his title? For the first time he was presented with a woman who did exactly as he hoped and he found himself desperate for her to regard him with heightened favor simply for his position. He was beginning to doubt whether he really knew what he wanted at all.

  His confidence was shaken. It amazed him how easily this woman had managed to get under his skin. She affected him in ways he was unfamiliar with. Her mannerisms were unforgiving. Harsh. While her physical exterior possessed an otherworldly beauty and grace, she was an impenetrable stone. For her sake, he hoped she would have better luck convincing his parents of her need for assistance than she had with him. Judging by her hardened demeanor, he found it hard to believe anything could possibly threaten someone like her. She was fearless.

  “Wait here,” he directed quietly, holding his hand out to stop her from coming any further. “I will announce your arrival to the King and Queen. Once you have been properly introduced, you will be seen into the room. I wish you luck in presenting your request. From what I have seen, you’re going to need it.”

  Neomi stared at the massive gilded door in front of her. She had achieved her goal at meeting with the King and Queen, but at what price? Something she’d said had given obvious offense to the man who now granted her access to the throne room of the Tanispan palace. It frustrated her to think that she had no idea what she had done wrong. She was learning as she went along. Her first mistake had been grabbing at him upon his approach outside. And slapping him – yes, that was most likely also frowned upon. But surely he wasn’t still bothered by that. If that was the case, she couldn’t believe he would offer to assist her. He would have turned her away without letting her see the fancy chandeliers of the palace foyer.

  She came to a stop as the man opened the doors, stepping proudly onto a crimson carpet which led from the entrance to the dais. Upon entering the room he paused, hands clasped in front of him. “I present Neomi It’aryn of the Ovatai, daughter of Chief Okivra.”

  Tilting her head to one side she watched him curiously, amused by his insistence at utilizing such formalities. She’d been very clear about the usage of titles. Were they really so necessary to these people? Not that she minded. It lent an air of importance to her introduction. If the association of her name with her father’s did anything to help her case, she would let him call her whatever he wished.

  He was a fascinating creature. Words came to mind which she had no recollection of ever having need to use in the past. She hesitated to say he was handsome. It was possible she was merely intrigued by the differences between him and the men of her own people. His frame was sturdy. Somehow she’d always envisioned the Vor’shai men to look weaker. She let her eyes follow him as he made his way down the carpet, coming to stand at the King’s side, his stance proud despite his earlier hesitance. Was she allowed to enter? They had such odd customs. It seemed nothing more than ridiculous formality for her to be made to wait.

  They would have to forgive her intrusion if they weren’t prepared to see her yet. Enough time had been wasted in dealing with the guards. Every minute she spent attempting to respect their rules was another minute her people were dying.

  Her arrival proved unexpected to the King and Queen. The King rose to his feet upon hearing her name, staring at her with an odd expression upon his face. She couldn’t decipher what he was thinking. Among the Ovatai it was easy enough for her to read them. These people were beyond her scope of understanding. Seeing the King, she could see where his son got many of his more flattering features. There was a striking resemblance between the two, owing only the brilliant glow of his blue eyes to the Queen who now sat rigidly in the throne at her husband’s side.

  “Miss It’aryn,” the Queen stated calmly, reaching her hand out to the King’s arm, gently urging him back to his seat. “Please, approach. Our son indicated you might be in some kind of trouble. What brings you so far from home?”

  At the invitation to approach she covered the distance between her and the thrones, aware of the Prince’s eyes upon her. It was unsettling. Why did he have to watch her so closely? She’d made too many mistakes with him. This would be easier to accomplish if he would just leave her in privacy with his parents. They were who she came to speak with. Not him. “You know my people would not come to you in this fashion unless it was under the direst of circumstance. Regrettably, the current circumstances have prevented my father and my brother from making the journey themselves.”

  “Your father is a trusted ally of the Vor’shai. We would not dream of turning you away,” the Queen nodded. She sounded sincere. Pleasant. Less harsh than Neomi anticipated. It was hard to imagine a woman like her fighting beside the Chief in battle, yet she knew it to have been true. Her father spoke of it on occasion. He had much respect for the Vor’shai Queen. For his sake, Neomi was willing to bestow the same opinion upon her.

  “Queen Levadis,” she started, unsure of the appropriate means to address the woman seated before her. Suddenly the Prince’s question from the hall made perfect sense. It hadn’t been a matter of demanding notice for his position. He was legitimately requesting to know how he should refer to her without looking a fool the way she did now in front of him. Clearing her throat she tried to push beyond the initial unease of her address. She was a foreigner. Hopefully they would be willing to look past her mistakes and lack of familiarity with their ways. “The Ovatai have never had need to ask favor of the Vor’shai. It is our preference to continue in that manner, but recent events have left us no choice. We are in need of skilled fighters and your military is the only one my father trusts to be capable of performing the task. Would you be willing to aid us in our time of need the way we once did for you?”

  Her eyes shifted to glance at the Prince, unable to keep them from straying. Why did she care if he was still watching her? Something about his presence made her uncomfortable. She just couldn’t put her finger on what it was which bothered her. No man had ever had that effect on her before. It wasn’t a feeling she was accustomed to.

  Rising to her feet the Queen nodded, gracefully stepping down from the dais, the elegant train of her lavender silk gown flowing along the ground behind her. She was an impressive sight, exuding confidence and power without effort while maintaining the illusion of delicacy. Neomi trusted that despite her seemingly fragile form, if someone were to threaten this woman or her people, she would strike with a ferocity equal to that of any Ovatai warrior. “You know we will offer whatever assistance we are capable of providing. In order to determine exactly what that assistance will consist of, I need you to explain what has befallen your people. Is this something you feel comfortable speaking of this evening, or would you prefer to rest after your long journey and discuss the details in the morning?”

  “There is no time to wait until morning,” Neomi interjected, immediately regretting her decision to do so. It was uncouth to interrupt the Queen. She was doing nothing to improve her image in the eyes of the Prince, nor to aid in her pleas with the King and Queen. “What I mean to say is that my people are in danger as we speak. Our numbers have suffered greatly due to a conflict against a former ally to our tribe. We find ourselves lacking the men necessary to fight a new enemy which has presented itself to Ethrysta. If our warriors fail in our defense, there is a chance this enemy will find its way to Tanispa. Every minute I spend away from my father is more time my people could already be dying. You will have to forgive my inability to give more detail. We are still trying to determine more of the enemy ourselves.”

  “Edric,” the King said suddenly, his voice cutting through the heavy silence which hung over the room. The Prince stiffened at the sound of his name, turning to face his father obediently. “Do you know where the Captain is?”

  “Father, would the General not be more appropriate
to determine the deployment of our soldiers? He was in the ballroom when I found you. I saw him there –”

  “Do not question me, Edric. The General is in a room full of courtiers who may panic if they see him depart in any haste, especially if the absence of your mother has already come to notice. The Captain disappeared with you some time ago. He will cause the least concern in being summoned and you are the only one who knows where he has gone.”

  The Prince lowered his gaze to the floor, troubled by something that even the King didn’t appear to understand. “Father, the Captain is with his wife. I cannot help but think he is needed at her side currently.”

  “I am here, Your Majesty.”

  The arrival of the newcomer came as a surprise to Neomi, his entrance into the room having been impressively stealthy. She found herself wondering how long he’d been standing there. The King shared in her confusion, glancing toward the door, motioning the man to come forward. He looked young. Shockingly so for someone who held a position of rank in the military. His shorter brown hair was somewhat disheveled, seeming to match his drawn features, the umber glow of his eyes unable to hide his melancholy. Whether his moroseness was due to the news she brought or some other trouble, she couldn’t be sure. It was impossible to know if he had even heard the request presented to the Queen.

  A saddened look was shared between the man and the Prince, as if communicating silently across the distance of the room. She suddenly felt as if she was intruding on some private matter, hesitant to say anything more until someone else broke the tension first.

  “Captain, there you are,” the King nodded, recovered from his earlier surprise. “I need you to meet with this young woman to discuss whatever details you require to properly plan the deployment of our troops. Gather directions to where our men are to go and when. The Queen and I should return to the celebration to avoid concern. We will find a way to explain the situation to the General. The two of you can determine a plan after the guests have departed for the night. Is this acceptable?”

 

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