She shuddered, glancing up at Krow who could not hide the fury from his eyes. He hated when people looked at her that way; he hated when they questioned who she was and what right she had to do as she did. Navaria had tried to cool the man’s quick temper when he had come into her service, but she’d yet to succeed.
“They say they are friends of yours, Your Majesty,” one of the guards said, waving a dismissive hand at Navaria and Krow.
The Winter Queen hesitated, running a finger over the glass bulb at the top of her staff before looking directly into Navaria’s eyes. Her breath caught. She felt as if the woman could see right through her veil—as if she knew all of her secrets. For a moment, she thought the woman mumbled something under her breath as if speaking to someone before she stepped forward.
“Indeed. Navaria and Krow are my friends and should be welcomed into the Blood Keep.” Her smooth, light voice filled the courtyard.
Navaria’s knees almost gave out beneath her. She hadn’t been certain the plan would work; she’d been relying on the kindness of a queen she knew nothing about. Only that she’d attempted to help her on the docks, and Krow nearly cut off her hands for it. With one word from her, the guards pulled open the gates, the hinges shrieking in protest. Navaria and Krow stepped through quickly, afraid they would close them again before they had a chance to enter.
“We’re in, Krow.” Navaria leaned against his side.
“Come with me.” The Winter Queen crooked a finger at them before turning on her heel. “I will have you settled in a bedchamber, and then, when you are ready, you must greet the king.”
Navaria kept a firm hold on Krow’s arm as the guards encircled them. Krow looked as if he would attack the first man who came too close, but her hand against his kept him from reaching for his sword. The Winter Queen walked with a silent calm among these men, as though being guarded so closely was quite normal for her. They didn’t have guards like this in the Mountain Lands. Navaria never needed them. There had never been anyone to threaten her in her lands.
A shudder rushed through her when they stepped inside the Blood Keep, and she wished she was alone with the Winter Queen. She wished she could speak to her quietly with fewer ears to hear what she had to say. Krow didn’t want her to ever be alone with the woman; he knew what could happen to her if the Winter Queen were to touch her. But what Navaria had to say must be said in private, without even Krow.
The guards led them through the Blood Keep, weaving down the halls and up the stairs. Navaria took everything in, these strange buildings made of stone with painted ceilings. These dwellings were cold to Navaria, nothing like her homes in the mountains, carved from the hot rocks of the earth; castles in the mountains which none could replicate. They never had need of fire, for the rocks kept them warm and safe, and winter never touched them. Thinking of home caused a knot to form in Navaria’s stomach, and she gripped Krow’s arm tighter. Suddenly, the Winter Queen stopped, waving off the guards.
“This room will do,” the white-haired woman announced. “You may go now. I would speak to Lady Navaria before her audience with the king.”
“Will you stand guard at my door?” Navaria asked Krow gently as the Winter Queen preceded her into the bedchamber. Krow hesitated, his fingers tightening on Navaria’s for a moment before he let her go. He turned his back, resting his hand on the hilt of his sword as he glared down the empty corridor.
“Close the door, Navaria,” the Winter Queen requested softly.
She did as she was told, closing the door silently. “Will the king be angry with you for letting us stay without his permission?”
“I do not think the king will care,” the Winter Queen answered as she moved about the plain room, plucking at the blankets on the simple bed before she stopped at the shuttered windows. “He needn’t know if you do not wish him to.”
“You wish to keep us a secret from him?” Navaria’s eyes expanded, hope filling her. Perhaps she would not have to meet the false king after all. “Is that possible?”
“You needn’t greet the king if you do not wish to. The guards will believe you did since I have said you would, but the king is quite occupied with the uprising in the north.” The Winter Queen ran her hand along the wall before she turned, leaning against her staff. “If you have come here for my protection, Navaria, I offer it willingly.”
“My thanks, Your Highness.” Navaria dipped her head. “But there is another reason I am here. I wish to become acquainted with the Princess Damari. She still resides in the Blood Keep with her brother, does she not?”
“Yes.” The Winter Queen frowned.
“There is also something else.” Navaria took a step closer. “I have a Gift, given to me at birth by the Creator.”
“A Gift,” the Winter Queen repeated, tilting her head curiously.
“Your Majesty.” Navaria licked her lips, shivering the closer she came to the Winter Queen. “I know who you are. I know you are Adlae Sundragon, Princess of Nfaros and the rightful heir to the throne ... and I have a message for you.”
Damari twisted her braid of honey hair around her hands as she stared up at her sword. She chewed her bottom lip, wondering if she should go down. Knowing he would be there wasn’t the only reason she was tempted to go down to the practice yard. She hadn’t picked up her sword in a week, and lack of practice wouldn’t help her when she set her plans into motion.
Ever since her meeting with Brae and the Winter Queen at the tavern, her whole world seemed to be in a state of tension, but then when her brother called his little meeting in the middle of the night, everything else seemed to come crashing down all around her. She hadn’t expected her brother to lash out at Mirae Sundragon so soon; much sooner than she was prepared for, and she knew with Brecken out of Sunkai, things could go badly for Brae very quickly.
Shaking her head, she reached above the hearth, taking her sword down from its place. Her brother had the weapon specially made for her with her name carved into the hilt. The sword was unlike those of the Sundragon princesses, as she was sure her brother intended. But Damari preferred this. She could hide the name this way so no one would know her if necessary for that kind of secrecy. Damari sighed as she clasped it to her belt before leaving her chambers.
She took long strides, her green split skirt giving her enough freedom to walk quickly. More than anything, she enjoyed these moments, proudly displaying her family’s colors. Her brother allowed her to wear them to practice, even though he insisted their family colors were now the king’s colors of black and red. Damari simply couldn’t resign herself to wearing them, flaunting them the way Raphaela did. They were not their colors; they were the colors of the Sundragon and always would be.
The summer sun was cooling in the presence of the Winter Queen. Damari sighed as she stepped into the light shining through the open stone door leading to the practice yard. She could hear the wooden swords, clacking together on the air. A slight smile touched her lips before she stepped out, ignoring how the guards at the door bowed low as she passed. What had enticed these men to follow her brother? Was it the fine line between truth and lies he told about Vihaan Sundragon? Was it the truths he forgot to mention? The king’s own struggle, which was kept hidden from the people? Damari knew more than her brother realized, but she would not tell him so. It would serve no purpose now.
Damari stopped short halfway to her destination, pausing to watch. Both men had stripped off their coats, down to britches and boots, the practice swords clutched in tight fists and sweat gleaming off their bronzed skin. Only one had removed his shirt, letting the sun bathe him, while the other allowed his to cling to his sweat-soaked chest. Damari swallowed, ignoring the blush filling her cheeks as they continued their practicing, unaware of her inappropriate stares. But her eyes locked on the taller one, her heart racing against her chest, wondering what he hid beneath that thin layer of material. In all the years he’d
been practicing under the hot sun, she didn’t think she ever remembered him relieving himself of his shirtsleeves.
Biting her bottom lip, she remembered how he’d leaped in front of her when Raphaela struck her, ready to raise a hand against her if he had to in order to keep Damari from any more harm. She was warmed by these thoughts as she watched him circle the yard, the blue and yellow cord wrapped tight around his temples, keeping his dark, shoulder-length hair from sticking to the sweat beading on his face.
Lathan Jandry had always been a quiet man, the second son of his family and the younger brother of her brother’s favored captain, Brecken. But Lathan stood out among all of them—a man of his own—one to lead not to follow. Her brother respected him, which meant he was kept close to her family, an honor few shared.
Damari shook her head, forcing herself to turn her back as she pulled her sword from its sheath with a sharp hiss. She stopped in front of the post, already dented from the many swords which had pounded upon it, repeatedly striking until the blades were dulled. Shaking her head, she turned the sword again and again, the hilt working through her fingers easily. The blade twisted and flipped, slicing the air with a whoosh.
Damari twirled the blade over the top of her head before she struck. The post splintered, bits of wood shooting out to scatter over the cobblestone yard. A sigh slipped from her lips as she attacked the post, easily balancing the heavy steel in her palms. She paused, frowning as she rubbed her chest. Her necklace chafed this morning, feeling hotter than usual as it infused her body with warmth against the cool breeze blowing through the yard.
“Hold the sword higher.” His deep voice startled her, but she didn’t turn as he placed his large palms over her hands, gripping the sword. “Spread your legs and turn your hips. You want to make sure you can keep your footing when you’re facing a real opponent.”
“I know,” Damari rasped. Clearing her throat, she tried to find her voice. “I have been taught, Lathan Jandry.”
“Obviously, not well enough,” he grumbled but stepped back.
Damari turned, looking up into his blue eyes. They were unusual for a man of his origin. He and his family had been born in the south before his father was summoned to the north by the king to rule over the Woodlands surrounding Kaldon. She was just a little girl, but she remembered the first time she’d seen Lathan Jandry, walking the streets of Kaldon with his mother and little brother, Maxx. Never would she have imagined the beautiful bronze-skinned, blue-eyed boy would be a lieutenant in her brother’s army. Nor that he would lead an attack which would change the whole course of the war against Vihaan Sundragon.
Now he stood here, brother by law to Brae Sundragon, daughter of the man he defeated. Damari could no longer see the sweet, innocent boy who defended her against the bullies who had teased her for wearing long coats in the summer. Being the daughter of a nobleman of Kaldon had not prevented the bullying, but only seemed to worsen it. Damari had never been more thrilled than when her father had been gifted the Kliat Manor, where there were few people but plenty of fields where she could run and play without fear of being teased.
She shook off the tremors rushing through her, reminding herself those days were gone. She was no longer the little girl whose biggest fear was bullies on the city streets, and Lathan Jandry was no longer the young boy who protected her, despite his instinct to shield her from her sister the other night. He fought for her brother, and if he fought for her brother, then he was against her and Brae. Strange how the thought caused her more pain than she knew it should.
“I wanted to thank you for standing for me against Raphaela the other night.” Damari swiped her tongue along her lips to moisten them. “Is there any word when your brother is going to take the army to Quintaria?”
“He leaves before the week is out,” Lathan answered, taking her sword from her to bounce it from one palm to the other. “There are a few details the king wished to discuss, but I am sure you are aware of that.”
“I am not as privy to my brother’s private councils as you might be led to believe, Lathan.” Damari took back her weapon, spinning to slam it against the post.
“Good.” Lathan nodded his approval as he slowly circled her, stepping behind the post before coming around to her other side. “I never thought I’d see you carrying a sword, Damari. I suppose things change.”
“Yes, they do.” Damari lowered the blade, placing it carefully point down against the stones. “Being a princess of Sunkai also means becoming a Sword Maiden. It was never in my nature to wield a weapon.”
“Yet, you do so with skill and grace.” Lathan gave her a lopsided grin that made her heart skip a beat.
“Sometimes,” Damari rasped, wondering why she was breathless. “I think being a princess comes with too great a price. Have you ever wondered what our lives would have been like if my brother had never taken the throne?”
Lathan winced. “Often.”
“Do you remember our homes in Kaldon?” Damari sighed dreamily. “Such a beautiful city to live in. Such a wonderful, different world.”
“It’s changed. It’s not the way you remember it, Damari.” Lathan hooked his hands low on his hips, eyeing her up and down. “But then, we’ve all changed.”
“Yes.” Damari cleared her throat, lifting her sword once again.
Lathan had changed more than she cared to think about. The years in her brother’s army had hardened him and poisoned his mind. She didn’t know if he simply couldn’t discern between truth and lies anymore, or if he knew the truth before him and simply turned a blind eye. He wasn’t the young boy she had known—the one she had admired. More than anything, she wished for those days when they were children back. She wished she could turn back time and know the truth about her brother, so she might warn the Jandry brothers, who became Roderick’s greatest allies. They were a force all their own to be reckoned with.
She sighed, running her palm up the blunt of the blade. The sun glinted off it, shining a gleam of light across the practice yard. Looking up, she saw the Winter Queen making her way slowly toward her, her staff clutched tightly in her hand as the four guards followed a pace behind her. Their eyes never left her back, their hands on their swords. She seemed not to notice them, continuing on her way as though she were alone, her low mumbles catching the attention of every soldier she passed. Damari never asked her why she talked to herself, but rumors abounded that the legend was true—that the previous Winter Queen’s soul remained with her, advising and comforting her in her solitary life.
Winter Queens were never known to marry, a situation which saddened Damari’s heart. She couldn’t imagine living alone for the rest of her life, perhaps for hundreds of years, without someone to love or to love her. Before her parents died, Damari was surrounded by love, but that love had quickly turned cold after her father’s death. With her brother ruling over the country—and her—and her sister obsessed with the power of the Eventide Sisters, Damari quickly lost the love of her family. But she had a future ahead of her, one which included marriage to a royal if her brother had anything to say about it. But the Winter Queen had no such future, no promise of a loving husband, no promise of children.
Damari bowed her head, chewing her bottom lip. “I understand you’ve been charged with protecting the Winter Queen while your brother is away.”
“That’s right.”
“Is it necessary for her to be so heavily guarded and watched?” Damari avoided his eyes, swinging the sword leisurely over her head before lightly tapping it side to side against the post.
“The king is worried for the Winter Queen’s welfare while she is in the city.” Lathan frowned, confused.
“It seems he’s more interested in finding out her true name,” Damari mumbled and then instantly regretted the statement.
“Asking her is an insult, and our king would never presume to order a guard to follow her so he might find o
ut who she used to be,” Lathan growled at her. “You’re his sister, you should know he would never break such a law.”
“It’s not a law, it’s common courtesy,” Damari said wearily. “I don’t want to talk about this, Lathan.”
“Perhaps it’s you who wishes to know her true name.” Lathan accused, stepping forward. “Perhaps it is you who seeks out answers where you have no right. The king has spoken of how you spend time with the Winter Queen, and that he is disturbed.”
“Why are you defending my brother?” Damari threw down her sword, the steel clattering against the cobblestone as she took a step toward him.
“He is my king! Why are you accusing him of insulting our Winter Queen?” Lathan closed the distance between them.
“Because he hates her!” Damari hissed, despising how her heart raced due to their proximity. “She does not bend to his will as all of us do. She is not a coward!”
Lathan’s shoulders stiffened, and she saw his hands fisting at his sides from the corner of her eyes. Damari breathed deeply, closing her eyes as she tried to calm herself, despite the feel of his breath against her face warming her cheeks. She reached for her necklace, so hot now she thought the pendant would imprint itself upon her skin. It grew hot with her anger, heavy against her heart now, weighing her down. Her knees trembled, but she refused to let him see her grow weak under the pressure of this magic. More than anything, she wanted to tear the necklace from her throat, but still, her mother’s words resounded in her head. So instead she clutched it, closing her eyes as she breathed through the burning pain against her skin.
“You’re no coward, Damari Kael. Neither am I,” Lathan’s voice lowered to a rumbling whisper so only she could hear him, his big palm resting on her hand where she held the necklace. “I don’t know what you think your brother has planned for the Winter Queen, but I’m sure you’re wrong.”
Winter Queen Page 13