Fire and Fantasy: a Limited Edition Collection of Epic and Urban Fantasy

by CK Dawn

“Is that what you used Davi for?” Rissa couldn’t stay quiet any longer. “You used his best friend to negotiate his marriage to a girl he doesn’t love?”

  The King sighed. “Davion was sent on other business, but the proposal was returned with him.”

  “So, it’s Willow then.” Trystan finally spoke.

  “She’s a lovely girl, son. And Lord Coille is one of our strongest allies. We explored other options, but none would give us access to the extensive trade network and sea-trade options that Willow will. We must begin exploring more of what the sea has to offer in order to keep our people fed. Coille might be our best chance.”

  Trystan nodded in acceptance, ever the dutiful son. Rissa’s lips quivered as rebellion rose up in her.

  The King’s eyes softened when he looked at her and she understood even he didn’t like the deal he’d made for her hand. Before he said it, she knew what his words would be.

  “Isenore holds immense power as well. I have secured Royce Eisner as your husband.”

  “How could you?” she whispered.

  “I don’t fully trust Eisner to choose the right side in what is to come. I need to do something to ensure his loyalty.” He looked truly regretful. “I had no other choice.”

  Rissa shook her head. Despite knowing this was his plan since the ball, her mind struggled to comprehend how her loving father could send her to a man such as Royce. She looked down to where Trystan had taken her hand in his. When she glanced back up at her father, there were tears in his eyes.

  “I do love you both,” he said quietly. “We are royals. We must do what is best for the realm.”

  “What about you, father?” Rissa asked. “You’re always telling us you loved mother. Why did you get to choose?”

  “Your mother …” He sighed and rubbed the back of his neck. “Maybe it’s time I tell you the entire story.” He paused, thinking. “Marissa was the most beautiful thing I’d ever seen. I loved her from the moment I saw her.” He chuckled briefly. “Which was as she sat atop a horse leading a contingent of soldiers as part of the Dreach-Dhoun advanced forces.”

  Rissa’s tears had dried up as she leaned forward in shock. Trystan, still gripping her hand, squeezed harder.

  “It was about a year before the end of the war. I was Toha, but my father was leading the army himself. I’d been fighting all day – it was one of the bloodier battles. Most of the soldiers were too exhausted to draw more power from the earth so we stumbled around hacking at each other. Then she rode through. She had blood on her face and in her deep red hair. She pinned me with her bright eyes which didn’t hold the darkness of most of the other soldiers of Dreach-Dhoun. She slid down from her horse. I thought she was going to kill me. Instead, she put her sword in the sheath hanging on her belt and stuck her shoulder under mine to help me up.”

  He smiled to himself. “She was the daughter of a very powerful man in Dreach-Dhoun. Prince Calis was in love with her. The night she escaped to our side of the defenses, the King of Dreach-Dhoun was killed and Calis Beirne was crowned.”

  “You have to understand,” he went on. “During the war, the noble houses of Dreach-Sciene were torn apart. We had hoped my marriage to your mother would bring her father onto our side, but he was being controlled somehow. I was lucky enough to fall in love with the woman whose alliance we needed.” He looked them each in the eye in turn. “I do wish the same for you.”

  Rissa squeezed her eyes shut to keep the tears at bay. Before she was born, the people of her realm had given up so much, fought so hard, to create the safety she’d grown up with. She’d do the same for them. She looked to Trystan and knew he was thinking the same thing. It was their turn to sacrifice, their duty.

  Trystan gave her hand a final squeeze and let go.

  The King stood and moved around his large desk to stand in front of Rissa. “I have something for you, my sweet girl.” He opened his hand to reveal a gold pendant hanging on a simple chain. The same image from the hilt of Trystan’s sword was carved into it. “This is your mother’s family crest.”

  Trystan leaned forward to see an elegant tree with twisting roots and three symbols surrounding it.

  Their father pointed to each symbol in turn. “Magic. Man. Earth. These three things must work in harmony to overcome impossibilities.”

  She held her hair to the side to allow him to fasten it around her neck.

  “Your mother had great power, and you both can have it too. I know these marriages aren’t what either of you would like.” He glanced at Trystan. “You, my children, can have a profound impact on this world and I truly believe these are the avenues that will get you there. Rissa, you are not yet of an age to marry. The ceremony will be held off for a year.”

  Rissa breathed a sigh of relief. She knew her father was giving her a small mercy. Many girls in the kingdom married before their eighteenth year.

  “But we will move ahead with Trystan’s marriage immediately.” He still spoke to Rissa. “I will be sending you to Lord Coille’s residence in Aldorwood to finalize everything and act as Willow’s lady. She’s the future queen, after all. You leave in four days with a small contingent of servants, guards, and a wagon to hold the gifts we are sending.”

  “Yes, father,” she said.

  “You both may go.”

  Once outside the office, brother and sister looked to one another. One of them was binding an ally even closer, and the other was ensuring loyalty. The King hadn’t said it explicitly, but he had reasons not to trust Isenore.

  A fear settled in Rissa, but she pushed it away. A year. She had a year until she need worry. And even though her brother wasn’t in love with Willow, Rissa would be glad when she moved into the palace. It would be nice to have a friend around to distract her from what was coming.

  She parted ways with Trystan and walked towards her quarters.

  Davi was leaning against the wall beside her door. He straightened when he saw her.

  “Is it happening?” he asked. “Is your father sending you to Isenore?”

  She huffed out a breath. As soon as she saw him, the tears started coming. He stepped forward to comfort her, but she held out a hand.

  “Davi …” her voice shook for just a second before she strengthened it. “I need to deal with this on my own.”

  Hurt flashed across his face. “What does that mean?”

  “It means without you.” She stepped by him and pushed open the door, stopping on the threshold. “I think you should keep your distance.”

  “Ri, I don’t understand.”

  She smiled sadly, looking back at him. “That’s the problem, Davi. You don’t understand because you don’t feel the same way. But it’s okay. We’ll be out of each other’s lives in a year.”

  Tears trickled down her face as she stepped into her room and shut the door, creating a barrier between them. She could still hear him on the other side.

  “Ri,” he pleaded. “Rissa.”

  Light streamed into her room as a cool breeze drifted in through the open window, bringing with it the smell of the barns. Rissa didn’t bother to close the window since at the moment she really didn’t care. Instead, she crawled into her bed and pulled the blankets up over her head. Davi’s pleas turned to silence, punctuated only by her muffled sobs.

  Seven

  The forest stretched out for acres, as far as the eye could see - across the realm of Isenore and straight to the mountains bordering Dreach-Dhoun. It was a widespread sea of gray, dying trees and rotting foliage. Alixa stood in the window studying it with a forlorn smile. It hadn’t always been this way. She remembered well visiting her mother here in these very chambers and looking out over the majestic canvas filled with greens and reds and shades of gold. She’d thought it, and her mother, the most beautiful things she’d ever seen in her young life. But the life had slowly drained from the forest over the years, along with that of her mother. Now they were both just a fading memory.

  It’d been ten years since she lost
her mother and she still came to her room often. It hadn’t been touched in all that time. Her ivory combs still sat on the dressing table where Alixa would sit for hours while her mother lovingly brushed her hair and sang to her beautiful, lilting melodies in her sweet voice. Her gowns still hung in the wardrobe and Alixa had convinced herself she could smell her lingering perfume in the air. She knew it wasn’t possible, but it was the only way she could hold onto those fleeting memories; memories of the only time in her life when she’d felt loved.

  Her father wasn’t aware of her visits here. She was sure of that. If he knew of the simple pleasure being here brought her, he’d have most likely had it torn apart. Pleasing his daughter was very low on his list of priorities. Alixa would go so far as to say he derived pleasure from her suffering, just like he’d done with her mother. He was a cruel man, the Duke of Isenore, but that cruelty seemed to be held in reserve for those closest to him. To outsiders, he appeared to be the complete gentleman his status decreed. Alixa knew better. This place had slowly killed her mother, over time. This place, this life, that man. And it was doing the same to her.

  Everywhere she looked she was trapped. Not just by the stone walls of the castle, but with legacy and family duty. She felt as a useless object with no purpose but to be at her father’s beck and call, running his kitchen and entertaining his guests with mindless pleasantries, only to be told she did it wrong when the guests had finally departed. To be belittled and made to feel stupid just to heighten his own sense of superiority. She hated it. She hated him.

  Maybe if she had support from Royce it would have been bearable, but her brother was no better. Cut from the same cloth as their father, he helped make her life miserable. If it hadn’t been for her mother, Alixa would not have ever believed herself to be a part of this family. She looked nothing like them and thankfully acted even less like them. Sometimes she truly did think that the Duke was not her father and Royce not her brother. She knew it was wishful thinking, but she was fully aware there was no love between them. There was none of the camaraderie she’d witnessed between the prince and princess of Dreach-Sciene at the Toha ball. She’d met them only briefly, but it was easy to see how fond they were of each other. The idea was foreign to her. If it weren’t for her maid, Ella, and a few other servants, Alixa would not even be aware of what kindness was. Hers was a lonely life indeed.

  A hawk soared by the window and Alixa averted her eyes from the dismal excuse of a forest. The bird’s graceful dance carried it across the evening sky, and she watched with envy as it disappeared into the approaching darkness. If only she could fly away from here as easily and float off to another life.

  “God, I hate this place,” she muttered as she placed her forehead against the cool glass and a single tear escaped the corner of her eye. Wiping it away with a sigh, she opened the large window and stepped out onto the balcony in anticipation. This was her favorite time of day, when evening turned to night. After the horrible pretense of family dinner was over and her father had retired to his library for the evening and Royce had gone out for who only knew what reason. It was her time to be alone.

  She stood still as stone, watching the night sky; enthralled as the stars slowly emerged one by one, like candles being lit. The air on her face was cold with the lingering chill of a northerly wind and goose bumps raised on her skin, but she didn’t mind. She didn’t want to go back inside. Not yet.

  Voices below her cut through her tranquility and she peered over the balcony with irritation. Surely, it wasn’t Royce back already? But the wagon and carriage highlighted by the servant’s lanterns were not of House Isenore. She was certain of it. These were unfamiliar and her brow furrowed in puzzlement. Her father had guests at this late hour? And coming through the back entrance? Very strange.

  Against her better judgement, Alixa left her mother’s chambers and hurried down the steps and through the long halls towards her father’s study. She hoped to catch sight of the visitors, but instead, she found two unfamiliar guards standing watch outside the double oak doors and she brought up in surprise. She didn’t recognize them or their tunics of black and gold. From what house were they and what was their purpose here? The guards stared at her approach in silence.

  “Is my father available?” she asked, not that she wanted to see him, but curiosity overrode her distaste.

  “No, the Duke is in a meeting. Leave.”

  Seriously? She narrowed her eyes and scowled, but knew she had no choice. Who gave them the right to order her around in her own house?

  She huffed out a breath and turned on her heel, not stopping until she’d rounded the corner and made her way into the library. Its balcony adjoined the one of her father’s study. If she couldn’t meet who was inside, at least she’d be able to see who it was.

  Under the cover of darkness, Alixa crept to the end of the library’s gallery. Hoisting her long gown to her knees, she gripped the edge of the stone balcony and clambered over easily, landing in a crouch on the other side. Scurrying for the cover of a marble pillar, she peered into the lamp lit room.

  Her father was pacing back and forth in front of the window and she pulled back quickly, not wanting to get caught. Finally, he turned away and the other person in the room came into full view. It was a tall man, similar in age to her father but not near as balding or stout. Although dressed in the same black and gold as the guards outside the door, he was no guard. His noble bearing was unmistakable.

  Her father’s voice broke the night’s silence and Alixa jumped in fright before realizing it just carried from the open window. She leaned a bit further so she could hear more clearly. “Are you sure the King realizes what he’s asking of me? I will expect much more in supplies as way of payment.”

  The mystery man nodded. “The King is very aware. And you will receive more. Much more. But he expects some form of guarantee. Your last bit of information was quite enlightening. It was a start. But he requires more in-depth data.”

  Information? What sort of information was her father supplying King Marcus with? What would be so important about mining and iron supplies that a messenger would be sent this late into the evening?

  “He’ll get what I promised. We have another council meeting scheduled a month from now to discuss military action on the border. King Calis should be quite pleased with what I bring back.”

  Alixa reeled back in shock. King Calis? Surely she heard wrong. Her father couldn’t be supplying their sworn enemy, Dreach-Dhoun, with military secrets. But even as her mind refused to believe her father was a traitor to their very own king, her heart was telling her otherwise. The uniforms of the soldiers inside suddenly made sense. No wonder she didn’t recognize them. They weren’t from any house in the realm she’d ever seen. Her father was a collaborator with King Calis!

  Whether it was shock or just bad luck, Alixa failed to pull back in time as her father pivoted on his heel and turned back to the window. His eyes locked with hers and narrowed in anger.

  “Who’s there?” he yelled as the window opened further and he leaned out. “Alixa, is that you?”

  No, no, no.

  Nearly falling over in her haste, Alixa hopped the wall separating the two balconies and ran for the library door. If she could get to her room without being seen, she could convince her father she wasn’t even there. That it had been all his imagination. Yanking open the library door she skidded around the corner to the hall, and straight into the arms of the waiting Dreach-Dhoun soldiers.

  Alixa bolted upright from her bed and stared at the door to her room as the knob twisted with a creak. She hoped desperately it wasn’t her father again. Her arm still hurt from their encounter the day before. Holding her breath in fear, she exhaled in a sigh of relief as the slight form of her maid, Ella, filled the doorway.

  “I brought you food, Lady Alixa.” The maid stepped past the burly guard stationed outside Alixa’s chambers, giving him a wide berth. Her hands busy holding the serving platter, she tried to close t
he door with her foot, but the guard growled at her.

  “Leave it open.”

  Ella bestowed him a look of pure steel, belying her tiny frame. “Whether you have been ordered to keep the Lady Alixa under lock and key or not, I’m also here to help her dress. I don’t think the Duke would appreciate you watching. Now, shut the door.”

  The big man looked slightly taken aback by the venomous tone, but he did as asked. As soon as the door closed, Ella dropped the tray on the dressing table and the two young woman embraced.

  “Oh God, I’ve been so worried, milady.” She ran her hands over Alixa’s arms. “Have they harmed you in any way?”

  Alixa’s resolve broke under Ella’s concern and tears flooded her eyes. “Not really, but what’s going to happen to me? My father is so angry and I can’t handle him when he’s like this. I’m scared, Ella. He knows I know. I couldn’t bring his entire world down around him. Now I’m nothing more than a liability.” She breathed heavily. “Why couldn’t I just lie and pretend I hadn’t heard anything?”

  She hadn’t just admitted to eavesdropping, she’d thrown the word traitor at her father. That’s what he was and she wasn’t one to hold back. It’d been a mistake. How could he betray the King? It shouldn’t surprise her, but that didn’t stop any remaining love she had for him from shattering under the weight of secrets.

  So, he’d locked her away as he always did. Three days now. She’d had a guard watching her every move. No one had been allowed in. Her only visitor had been her father, wearing his anger and displeasure like armor. And instead of his anger waning, it seemed to have increased two-fold. Last night’s visit had been the worst. The pungent odor of wine wafted off of him the moment he entered the room. There had been no deep sighing of regret or uncertainty from him like the first two times. It had been an out and out visit of censure. What had he done to deserve such a contemptible and surly daughter? Why had she turned out so much like her mother, the witch who had destroyed his life? Why was she so incredibly stupid she couldn’t see what he was doing was all for the good of the Isenore people?