“Yes, that’s a good way to put it,” Julianna smiled.
“I am some sort of enabler?” Kenna questioned.
“You are the Royal First Daughter of the Gods. You are much more. You let us become what we were born to be,” Julianna explained.
“Is something weird going to happen? Am I going to grow scales or glowing eyes?” Kenna wanted to know.
Julianna laughed softly. “My lady, you are very funny. It grows late and we must dress you for the feast.”
“Answer me, Julianna. What do you think is going to happen to me?” Kenna demanded.
Clasping her hands in front of her and turning a serious expression on Kenna, Julianna answered, “You will find much joy with my lord. You will make beautiful babes. You will gift us all with understanding and joy by joining with him. You bring the sun to shine on your people. Since we have not had your family with us for so many difficult years, we no longer know more than that.”
“Perhaps I can make this clearer to you, my lady,” Yuri injected. “You are a descendant of the queen we lost, there can be no doubt. Not only are you a descendant, you are a direct line from the first daughter, um, the eldest daughter of every generation following her.
“Our people, the ones like us, are also the descendants of the royal family of Kersonov, or decedents of her guardian Zsofi. The women in our families are the ones who carry the strongest gifts. In relationships, the woman enhances her husband, even if he is not one of us to begin with.
“We are not shapeshifter or night people. Our talents are different. The gifts you enable in us were bestowed on the Keeper of Treasure, by the Treasure. I know that sounds difficult to understand but it is a direct translation from our oldest records. We are not sure what the Treasure is. Perhaps that was the word used because there was no other for what they meant.
“We are not certain what our gifts are besides the common ability to communicate telepathically. There was a great need to conceal our difference through the inquisition and witch-burning eras. We destroyed all written documents, believing we had committed them to memory. Of course much knowledge was lost.
“The first daughters of your family hold the key to our abilities. You act like a generator. When you find the man who is your match, the power within you flows through him to us. You connect us. The immediate result this afternoon has been the enabling of our telepathic communication with each other. My lord can connect with us as easily as you when he couldn’t a few hours ago.
“If you do not join the correct man, the power lies dormant within you and in us. There is no way to detect that you are the first daughter if one does not know it. We remain mostly as regular humans are.
“The mental connection and gifts are frightening to regular people. We do not discuss it with outsiders. Not even with our countrymen who are not related by blood or marriage. It was the jealousy of a step-cousin of Queen Annedrine’s mother who was the real reason she was kidnapped.
“That woman had Annedrine’s mother killed, thinking as the oldest woman in the family then she would become the first daughter. The stupid woman only realized after the murder that the young princess was now the first daughter. She thought her son would then be king if she got rid of her cousin’s daughter and the murder of Annedrine would finally make the power of the first daughter hers.
“She was not a blood relation and would never have become the reigning first daughter.
“So you see, the family of the Queen Annedrine’s guardian knew you as soon as you found my lord. All those like us know you are here. We feel your power and know our queen has returned. Not only returned but connected with her One.
“As far as we know, the only thing that will change in you is your abilities,” Yuri explained respectfully. “As long as you are connected to your One, you enable us all. We can grow in our abilities as well.
“Being the royal first daughter means that you are the Keeper of the Treasure. There is no greater, um, this is the most important position conceivable. It is of such importance that our people are called Keepers.”
Julianna nodded and smiled at Kenna. “Now we must dress. You have many questions, my lady. I will answer all that I can, but now there is not much time and you must dress. Yes?”
Kenna looked up at Lore. “I don’t think…” The words died on her lips as one amazing thing after another exploded in her brain. Were there really shapeshifters and something called night people? What did “join with her One” mean? Apparently they meant Lore. And all this about being a Keeper of the Treasure and turning on talents…
Lore’s arms tightened around Kenna as he glared at Yuri. “So there is no doubt that Kenna is who she looks like? This so-called gift is the proof? And her paranormal abilities are activated when she finds the male she’s in some predetermined way destined to mate with?”
“That is a very abbreviated way to say it, but yes,” Yuri acknowledged.
Lore tried to grind through the mass of information. He and Kenna were feeling trapped. He could feel her physical pain as she tried to process it. Her body was reacting to the stress. Muscles were clenched, her blood vessels constricted and her head pounded.
Her telepathic ability had developed differently than his. He was focused on her and sensitive to her mood, catching thoughts without her sending them. But for him, she was the only one with such a direct line to his mind. He did not hear every thought in the room, every emotion did not thunder into his brain with all its debilitating intensity as the other person felt it. Her newly learned ability to block those around her was becoming weak as she struggled with all this information.
“That’s enough,” he said to the room at large. “Apparently the two of us are the ones who control this. Correct?”
“To a certain extent,” Yuri agreed soberly. “You were born to it. You are Keepers. It is similar to having brown hair. You simply are.”
“Nothing about this is simple. We are individuals with free choice.”
Yuri raised a brow as he regarded Lore. “I would think you’d understand better than anybody. It was not your choice to rule but it is your birthright. You accepted that. This is the same, perhaps more. You can pass your crown to another and remain alive. The only way you can stop being her One is to die. If you die, the light goes out in her, and by extension all of us.”
“What happens if we choose not to…” Lore hesitated, trying to find a tame word for this. There was no other word. “Mate? Not to remain together?” Lore asked.
“I have a feeling that would be very uncomfortable for you,” Yuri responded calmly. “Have you noticed that it is difficult to separate? The connection grows, it does not diminish. What binds you is not something we understand since we have almost no history to look back on. In these few hours it has been my observation that you grow dependent in some fashion. Is this incorrect?”
Lore didn’t respond. His forehead dropped to the top of Kenna’s head and they simply sat in silence, absorbing what they could.
“The time grows late,” Yuri said into the silence. No one responded for several more minutes.
“We have to dress,” Kenna said softly. There was no way to deal with the enormity of the issues involved. Her body felt battered and no one had touched her except Lore. It was time to deal with this in small pieces. To simply focus on what she could control.
“Where are Kenna’s clothes, Julianna?” Lore questioned without raising his head.
“In the queen’s room. We should hurry, my lord.”
Lore sighed deeply as he struggled to gather some calm for Kenna. “Your rooms are right through that connecting door.” He indicated a cleverly concealed door in his wall. “I’ll be here and I am sure Thomas is outside your door. It’ll be all right. We’ll figure this out.”
“Good God, Lore. I think they just told us I’m another species. Something not quite human.” Kenna’s face was pale. She appeared fragile as she pulled out of his arms.
“They told us that a lot of
people know you are the rightful queen to both thrones. I’m not sure they can prove it but that is the most pressing danger,” Lore answered as he remained seated, looking up at her with a sad smile. He knew she was aware of that but its significance hadn’t dawned on her yet.
“I don’t want a throne, your throne. I don’t know what being a Keeper is.”
“I know. This situation is complicated. Sometimes things happen. Others decide to do things that we might not want done.” Lore looked at Yuri. “Will your people want to put Kenna on the thrones? Is there going to be an uprising?” he questioned flatly.
“We could never do this, my lord!” Yuri denied vehemently. “To do that we would endanger our first daughter and kill you. You are her One who makes us whole. If you were to die, she would follow you. Only if there were a child would she stay behind. And even then, the light would have gone out in her.
“We guard you with our lives and our children’s lives. There is nothing the Keepers would not do to protect you and our first daughter. We rejoice in your union. If it were up to us, you would not go to the feast tonight. Your joining is the greatest gift you could bestow.”
Lore ran a hand down his face. “Stop, neither of us is ready to hear what happens then.”
Standing, he focused on Kenna. Trailing his knuckles down her pale cheek, he gave her a half smile. “Go on, baby. It’s less than an hour to the feast. Can we just get through it? Then sift through all this?”
“Yes, I, ah, I don’t know what to think. It’s overwhelming.” Kenna reached up on tiptoe to kiss Lore in an absentminded fashion then turned to follow Julianna through the connecting door.
Her mind was taken up with what Grandmother had left her in New York. Nothing was what it seemed and now she had a sick suspicion there was more there than Grandmother had told her.
Chapter Five
When the king and his guest appeared in the great room, a ripple of intense reaction was felt by both of them. This crowd could not go wild like the throng at the joust. Here, those who could connect with the Keeper royal couple were surrounded by others unaware of exactly who stood before them.
Lore and Kenna smiled and nodded while taking their seats at the head of the tables, which was the signal to start the medieval feast. Lore handed Kenna into the chair on his left. A stone-faced Gregory took the chair on his right. Thomas stood directly behind Kenna’s chair and Yuri behind Lore’s.
Gregory glanced back and grimaced at the two large, chain-mail encrusted, sword-carrying guards. “What’s with all the protection, my lord? Are you expecting trouble? Something you failed to mention?”
Kenna had been able to read people’s strong emotions all her life. The recent magnification of that ability would not have been needed to read Gregory right now. Angry resentment emanated from his very being. His thoughts were a staccato list of objections. Listening to them for only a moment, she attempted to block him.
In his eyes, a guard behind her chair while none stood behind his placed her importance above his own. It was a public insult that cut his pride to the bone. All this after her appearance had ejected him from this afternoon’s events.
Lore answered Gregory’s tense question with seemingly detached calm, hoping the dismissive attitude would discourage further discussion of Gregory’s grievances. “They are there because I want them there. It is nothing that need concern you.”
Lore doubted he could get rid of the brothers standing behind him. This connection with them made him more than their king, as Kenna was more than a queen. As far as he could tell, the brothers were now almost inseparable from the royal couple. Vaguely uncomfortable with that certainty, Lore didn’t have time to explore the concern. Kenna took priority.
Her heart was heavy with the weight of Gregory’s ugly thoughts. The bitter feel of him added to her instinctive fear and made being in the same room with him a struggle she didn’t need right now. Frustration built in Lore.
Accepting Gregory as a product of the old world these countries had fought so hard to preserve had given Lore a measure of tolerance for his pompous attitudes in the past. That tolerance was disappearing fast as Gregory appeared intent on making himself difficult.
Gregory turned to Lore. “It seems the things that need concern me are dwindling fast, my lord. I hardly know where my interest should remain.”
“Perhaps the business of governing is where your concern should be placed, my friend,” Lore murmured. His hand reached out to grasp Kenna’s as he spoke. Their joined hands rested atop the banquet table while the first course was served.
Gregory’s eyes were drawn to that public display, as were most others in the room. He recognized a message when he saw one and a fresh wave of distaste washed over him.
“I am not the only one who will be interested in the new arrangement of the table, my lord. Kindly remember that your choices influence others in ways you cannot know. I am not your enemy.” Gregory took a deep breath and continued. “I ask because I will be asked. Give me some way to respond that does not separate us as leaders of these two nations. Something that does not make it appear our relationship is unstable and there is perhaps a rift between the two of us.”
Lore leaned back and regarded Gregory from beneath deceptively lazy lids. It was a disturbing sensation to be aware when someone was trying to deceive. Not really lying to him, but through Kenna Lore could feel the underlying emotions behind Gregory’s words.
Right now Lore had to forcibly leash his first reaction to the knowledge Gregory had no idea he was broadcasting. It was evident that other Keepers could also feel Gregory’s real mood and were not as willing to conceal their reaction to it. Around the room there was a subtle shift, tension rose. Lore’s casual glance showed him a great number of men were focused on this exchange.
“If anyone perceives a rift between us, it will not be because of what I have said or done. Your position is not in question, my friend,” Lore responded calmly, trying to quell Gregory’s headlong rush into insulting accusations.
Unsatisfied with the way Lore sidestepped his probing on the true nature of the relationship between Lore and Kenna, Gregory countered, “Attention to the details of our lives is a national and international occupation. There will be questions raised by my countrymen over the seating arrangements this afternoon and evening. People take note of these things and are not as casual as those of us who love you and understand you place no importance on them. They will want to know who she is and why she sits where she does.”
“At this point all you need tell them is that she is my guest,” Lore stated firmly. Again Lore did not respond to his questions in the manner Gregory wanted. Giving up the subtle approach, Gregory felt the need to clearly label exactly what position Kenna occupied and highlight the inappropriateness of her sitting here with decent people. “She has not been presented to the court, your highness,” Gregory continued in stilted, condescending tones. “Her position at present is not a complimentary one in the minds of decent people. Perhaps you would both be more comfortable if she waited for you in your rooms.”
Gregory didn’t flinch under the hard stare Lore turned on him. In fact, he put on a show of being resolute for their audience of banquet attendees as by this point he realized many were following this conversation closely.
“You might discover the offensive nature of your implication does not serve you well, Gregory. Have a care how you handle this situation, my friend,” Lore warned sharply.
Lore had felt the room suddenly chill at the thinly veiled insult to Kenna. He glanced around and found not only hard faces turned to the royal table but some men had a hand on the ceremonial swords they wore for the period feast. Apparently not all the swords were props.
Gregory obviously interpreted those ridged faces as support for his position. Most of those men had to be Gregory’s countrymen, the original homeland of the Keepers. That Gregory would so fundamentally misread this overwhelming shift in the room’s loyalties was a sad reality. On
e Lore had no idea how to explain, much less warn Gregory about. A part of him couldn’t care less if Gregory came to an abrupt and humiliating understanding of where loyalties stood. The logical king portion of his brain knew that would be a serious error.
A soft body leaned around Lore. Kenna smiled at Lore and asked in a cheerful voice, “It would be helpful if you introduced us, my lord. I would very much like to meet my lord Leionoff.”
Lore raised his brows at that big fat lie, but he felt the room hanging on her. Each grim Keeper waited to see how this played out. She was attempting to defuse the growing hostility with a display of civility and normal introductions.
“Of course, the events of the day precluded that introduction. I apologize,” Lore responded. “Gregory Karoly Leionoff, First Advisor of Kersonovia, may I present Kenna MacKelsey,” Lore made the introduction quietly as Kenna and Gregory nodded to each other.
Kenna kept a tight lid on her instinctive revulsion and smiled in a show of courtesy. There were too damn many quick-tempered men around who could tune her in. Learning to mask her emotions seemed an imperative as she felt the room relax marginally. The stress of being the one whose actions or emotions affect this large a group of people frightened her. It was a responsibility she never dreamed of holding, didn’t want to have, couldn’t put down.
Yet there was Lore. His complete openness to her and commitment to see his responsibilities through, even when his world was altering in ways that should have knocked him off his game, gave her a measure of his strength. How he did that wasn’t as important as his ability to provide a soothing shield in this moment.
He was projecting protection, enclosing her in a calm cocoon where all she had to do was listen normally to people talk. Somehow he’d taken up the job of blocking her enhanced senses for her. Giving her a rest as her strength to do it herself faltered with exhaustion.
The feast didn’t end with the food and it was after midnight before Lore was finally able to rise from the table and say their good nights.
Any Price Page 8