Tempered Hearts (Hearts of Valentia Book 1)

by S. A. Huchton

  Arden dipped a curtsy. “Good afternoon, sir guard. I was wondering if I might have a word?”

  He eyed her suspiciously. “Who are you?”

  “My name is Arden.” She hunched towards him and glanced over her shoulder nervously, then approached him.

  Darius frowned as she leaned in close to the guard, her voice too low to hear. She whispered to him for several long moments, all the while Droogan’s eyes trained on the king. When his expression shifted, eyebrows raised in keen interest, Darius had to hide his surprise. Was she actually getting through to him?

  Arden stepped away, and Droogan gave her a cool look of approval. “Very well then, I’ll let you through.”

  She curtsied again. “Your help is greatly appreciated. It will be remembered.”

  He bit back a laugh at Droogan’s sudden flushed cheeks when Arden smiled at him. When he turned to open the gate, Darius shot her a questioning look she totally ignored, keeping her focus on the dwarf. As they passed under the massive arch when the iron bars lifted, he sneered at the men, but had only a pleasant smile for Arden. She threw him a small wave and a grin before motioning the group on.

  A block from the gate, Darius stopped her for questioning, even though she’d gone back to gaping at the new level of gilded grandeur around them.

  “What in the heavens did you say to him?”

  “Hmm?” She stood from where’d she been examining the intricate design of a cornerstone. “The guard? Not much. I was polite and respectful. It’s amazing how far that gets you.” She patted his cheek and winked before continuing on down the road. “I may also have mentioned that you’ve a mind to look into the miners’ illness and put yourself in a position to contract it, but that’s neither here nor there.”

  Vennic snorted a laugh. “She was right. Simple solution.”

  “Using my potential demise as an incentive?” He caught up to her, amused at her self-satisfied look. “That’s deplorable, Your Highness.”

  She lifted her chin and sniffed. “Sweet lies are more tempting than unpalatable truths, though I do hope you’ll put serious effort into not dying. If you make me a widow at eighteen, I’ll give you no peace in the hereafter.”

  Laughing, he leaned in to her ear. “There are far worse things I could endure, asahana.”

  She tried to hide her blush with a look of disdain, but her heart wasn’t in it. In moments, she was back to studying every inch of the city they passed through.

  Darius enjoyed every second, impending doom or no.

  Arden

  “Come to bed, asahana,” Darius yawned. “You’ll see more of it tomorrow.”

  Arden pushed away from the window with a sigh. “How can you sleep? My mind is racing with everything today and all the questions I have for tomorrow.” Wistful, she looked back over her shoulder, glancing at the street below and the sudden influx of traffic as long strings of carts rolled through on the rails running down the middle of the road.

  “I don’t think the miners guiding those carts would be particularly happy to stop and chat right now.” He flopped onto his back, his eyes closing as he smiled softly at the ceiling. “Nighttime supply transport is a carefully orchestrated dance, even if their output is limited.”

  “I only want to watch, not bother them.”

  “If I said please, would you at least consider closing the drapes?”

  She giggled. “Consider? Certainly.”

  “Arden…”

  His tone gave her pause, his voice deeper and gentler than his teasing. It pulled her gaze from the window, back to the bed, where his hand stretched out toward her.

  “Please?”

  The look in his eyes, something quiet and insistent, stilled the endless stream of thoughts running through her head. It was that look that pulled at her hope, even when the rest of her insisted it was wasted effort.

  “You need rest if you’re to be sharp for tomorrow,” he said. “Our audience with the yar is bright and early.”

  As always, Arden stuffed her dashed hopes down somewhere deep below her gut, but turned and pulled the drapes, even her excitement for the dwarf city dulled. “You’re right, of course. If I want to come off as moderately intelligent, I shouldn’t attempt it while tired.”

  Her robe slung across a chair, she climbed into bed and curled up on her side, facing the covered window. She closed her eyes, concentrating on the rumble of the carts and where they might be headed.

  It was better than thinking about the man lying next to her.

  Long, quiet moments stretched out into the night, and she assumed he fell asleep. She was finally beginning to drift off herself when she felt him shift closer beside her, the weight of his elbow dipping the pillow behind her head.

  “Asahana, are you awake?”

  As she couldn’t fathom why he’d care, she kept her eyes shut and breathing steady, hoping if she ignored him long enough, it might hurt a little less to be rejected night after night. After his exhilarating treatment of her pain from riding, she thought perhaps he’d come around, but there was nothing after that to encourage her further.

  She nearly gave herself away when he brushed the hair from her face, his touch so gentle she again doubted his violent past.

  “You are truly the brightest light in all Valentia,” he whispered. “I’m a poor choice to receive it.”

  As badly as she wanted to turn and tell him how stupid he was for thinking such a thing, her curiosity about what else he might say far outweighed it. Perhaps he was coming around after all, but wasn’t sure how to fix it.

  “I will try to be better for you.”

  As he settled in beside her, she forced herself to keep breathing. Never had she wanted to kiss someone as badly as she did in that moment, but what would he think of her? Her, lying there, being put out and stubborn as he whispered sweet words in her ear… And she didn’t want to embarrass him, either. How often did she speak truths when she thought no one could hear? She’d be mortified to be called out for talking to herself. Instead, she continued to feign sleep until rest closed in long after his words turned into quiet snores.

  Morning came at a hateful hour, and she resisted Darius’s gentle urging to open her eyes, instead tucking his arm under hers and burrowing deeper into his embrace.

  He chuckled in her ear. “What are you doing, Arden?”

  “Five minutes more,” she mumbled under the covers.

  “And what excuse will we make to the yar for our tardiness?”

  Drawing his hand up, she set her cheek on top of his palm. “We’re newlyweds. Let him draw his own conclusions.”

  “Asahana…”

  “If we lie to everyone else, why not the yar as well?”

  The moment it was out of her mouth, she regretted it, cringing at her callousness while half-asleep. He let out a slow exhale, then lifted up, turning her to face him as she pinched her eyes shut.

  “Arden…”

  She shook her head, still not able to look at him. “I’m sorry. That was—”

  “Arden, look at me.”

  He didn’t sound angry, so she cracked an eye open, immediately stunned at the sight of him hovering over her. Her heart hammered in her chest as she stared into the brown and gray rings of his irises, her apology stuck in her throat. His thumb brushed against her cheekbone, his gaze drifting down to her slightly parted lips. Stars, she couldn’t breathe. Even as his face lowered towards hers, she didn’t dare hope the moment was real. More than once she’d dreamt what it might be like to be kissed by him when his heart was in it, but she always woke up before she could find out.

  His breath cooled her flushed skin, but she didn’t dare move. It was the rabbits all over again. If she so much as twitched…

  The moment his lips met hers, she went from comfortably warm to hotter than a blacksmith’s forge. There was so much
tenderness in him, tears pricked at her eyes. Tentatively, she drew her hand up, running her palm against the stubble of his face, pouring herself into the moment as though she might be able to capture it if she let it surround her completely. His kiss pulled her in, begging for more, ready to give him anything and everything he desired. If he let her, she was sure she could help him turn his pain— his loss— into faded, far-off memories. They could have more.

  They could have everything in each other.

  The chime of bells outside broke the moment, and he severed the kiss with a slow sigh.

  “We can’t be late today, asahana.”

  Her eyes fluttered open, searching his gaze. “No leniency for a proseika?”

  He winked and lightly touched the tip of her nose. “Not even for a king.”

  “Is it wrong that I’m now predisposed to disliking this yar a great deal?”

  He laughed and kissed her forehead before rolling away and out of bed. “Try not to let that show when you ask him for shards of Gordian weapons, then.”

  Abruptly, she sat up. “You think he’d let me have some?”

  Darius laughed louder as he pulled a tunic over his head. “You know, any other man might be insulted you’d forget his bed at the mention of a bit of metal.”

  Indignant, she threw a pillow at him, catching him in the stomach, though it only made him laugh harder. Huffy, she got out of bed and strode for the dressing room, leaning out of the doorway to give him some last words.

  “You’ll have to do a lot better than that to keep me in bed if my alternative is acquiring new specimens for research.”

  Her challenge issued, she closed the door, more than pleased with the morning’s progress.

  Chapter 21

  Darius

  In the receiving room off the Varkomen assembly hall, Darius watched Ehlren pacing the floor. When they met him earlier that morning, he was immensely relieved to see the king, but his grin for Arden quickly faded to anxious worry. As they all waited for the yar’s appearance, his friend kept casting her concerned looks. While Darius shared his discomfort at her presence in a potentially hazardous situation, he accepted that she wouldn’t be swayed in involving herself.

  “Are you certain you wouldn’t prefer to wait at the ambassador’s house?” Ehlren paused, frowning at Arden. “I don’t think any of you have a good understanding of this situation.”

  Arden, ever patient, wore that smile she used on people who underestimated her. It was incredibly unassuming if you didn’t recognize it. “Then why don’t you enlighten us while we wait? I understand you weren’t allowed to discuss it during your visit to Castle Dulaine, but I think the time for secrecy has passed.”

  Ehlren glanced at the door, still frowning. “Just over a month ago, our daily output started dropping. Miners had been getting sick for weeks before that, but it wasn’t considered an issue until it was so widespread quotas weren’t being met. We think it’s something in the mines, but we haven’t found any Torn Ones or unusual fungus to explain it. At first, we weren’t overly concerned, as sometimes there are small outbreaks of things. It’s grown too big for us to ignore any longer, however.”

  Curious about what he was getting into, Darius delved for more information. “How does the disease present?”

  “One day a person is fine, the next morning the skin discolorations appear.”

  “Skin discolorations?” he asked from his seat beside Arden. “What sort?”

  Ehlren scratched at his braided beard. “They start off as bruises on the torso, so no one thinks them unusual. Mining isn’t work for the weak, after all. Within a few days, the bruises spread out to the arms and legs. That’s when the first of them start… changing.”

  Vennic leaned forward in his chair. “Changing to what?”

  Ehlren returned to pacing. “They darken and grow more defined, collecting into strange markings, black as pitch. When the first of those form, the pain begins. Those affected become incapacitated by a physical torment without any cause and grow cold, rather than develop a fever. It reminds me a little of the poisoned ones who turned, but these sick never get that far. Eventually, we have to tie them down for all their thrashing, but they don’t complete the transformation. After two weeks, the infected dies.”

  Arden shuddered beside him, and Darius knew where her memories took her, as he’d witnessed haegaroi poisoning himself. He reached over and squeezed her hand briefly, but continued the conversation. “So it presents similarly to hega rohtaru, but you say there’s no haegaroi in the mines?”

  “Not a one we can find,” Ehlren said. “I’ve been down there myself. All that’s in our newest tunnels is dampness and rock.”

  “Perhaps it’s the rock, a fine particulate from an unknown mineral,” Arden mused. “Have any new materials been uncovered lately?”

  “None at all. A new vein of silver, lots of coal, but nothing we haven’t seen before. Even the new spring down there has cleaner water than we’ve found in a long time. Those tunnels were a boon until the sickness started.”

  The door opened, and they all stood. Accompanied by three armor-clad guards, the dwarf Darius had championed to be yar strode into the room, his broad shoulders puffed out under his immaculate green leather doublet and black cloak.

  “Proseika Darius Marillion!” His voice boomed in a boisterous greeting. “When I heard you took Valentia’s crown, I thought perhaps we’d not see you again. How are you, lad?”

  “Yar Bronson.” He bent at the waist. “I’m doing well. I’m glad to see you in good health.”

  He snorted a laugh. “Despite the best attempts of my detractors to get me into the mines, I am.” He turned his gaze to Arden, a keen sparkle Darius wasn’t sure he liked glinting in his gray eyes. “And who is this beautiful gem?”

  Arden set a hand in his and curtsied low. “Arden Marillion, formerly of House Tanarien. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

  “Ah! So you’re our proseika’s new wife.” The yar turned to him with a wink. “A much better choice, Darius.”

  Bronson missed it, but Darius couldn’t mistake the momentary falter of Arden’s mask of pleasantry. The yar was no admirer of elves in general, and had never liked Naya despite her assistance in gaining his current political position. Though he might think his approval was well met, his comment was hurtful and unkind, especially to Arden.

  He motioned for them to sit after a cursory nod at Vennic. “I assume you’ve heard about our troubles, then?”

  Darius nodded, pushing away thoughts of how he’d smooth things over with Arden later. “I’d be honored to offer my assistance in the matter. Ogtern’s hardships affect all of Valentia. I’d see your people well again, not only as their proseika, but as their ally in the outside world.”

  Bronson lifted a skeptical eyebrow. “So the supplies are why you’ve come then, is that it?”

  “Not at all,” Arden said before he could speak. “He planned this visit before we had any idea you were having troubles. I’ve always wanted to see a dwarven colony and learn more about your culture. From the moment your general presented me with the Gordian dagger, all I could think of was coming here and speaking with you and those who know about its creation. But, if we can help in any way, of course we wouldn’t hesitate to do so.”

  The yar shifted in his seat, slightly perplexed. “A bit of metal fascinates a human noblewoman so much?”

  Arden straightened, her face lighting up with keen interest. “Absolutely. Gordian weapons are legendary, and to be presented with one… I can’t tell you how overwhelmed I was. I thought I might see if any progress had been made in recreating the method in which they’re forged. I’d also offer my assistance in any research on them as well.”

  Bronson shifted his incredulous eyes to Darius. “Research?”

  Taking a page from Arden’s book, he smiled and nodded. “Her Highne
ss is quite accomplished when it comes to metallurgic knowledge, actually. She studied dwarven-made weapons to greatly improve the quality of the steel coming from Aerenhall. I dare say she’ll have half of Castle Dulaine converted to hold forges and smelting equipment before long.”

  She looked at him, smirking a little. “Only half?”

  Yar Bronson cleared his throat. “Yes, well, I suppose if anyone would know about such things, it’d be Thrass Merdavin, son of Hig. He keeps to himself, mostly, in his workshop in the main refinery. He’d probably point you to Argravian, one of the scribes in the athenaeum, first, however.”

  Arden leaned forward, elbows on her knees, the collar of her blouse falling to the side in a most provocative manner. “I heard the shards of broken weapons don’t have the same sheen and color. Is that correct?”

  When the yar’s gaze dipped ever so slightly, a twinge of discomfort caught Darius off guard. “That’s correct, yes.”

  She dropped her shoulder just a little, now revealing the swell of her breast at the top of her corset. “And what is it you do with those shards?”

  His tongue darted out of his mouth, wetting his lips. “Do? They’re useless, my lady. What could we do with them?”

  Arden shrugged, knowing full well what the consequences of her movements would be. Darius’s hands balled into fists as the yar’s eyes fully locked onto her bosom. “I thought if they weren’t of any use to anyone, perhaps I might acquire some for my own studies. I wouldn’t dream of conducting experimentation on an intact weapon, after all.”

  Nearly jumping out of his chair, Yar Bronson stood and offered his arm. “If my lady would accompany me, I believe I’ve a few I could part with in my private vault.”

  Staring up at him with wide, blue eyes, Darius couldn’t believe how thoroughly convincing her surprise was. While part of him was impressed, most of him was not at all happy about her manipulation. If the yar got the wrong idea…

  “My dear,” he said, keeping a cool head as he stood, “as much as I’d love to have a peek at that vault, would you mind terribly if I stole Vennic for a while and looked into the matter in the mines?” He leveled a warning look at Ehlren. “I’m sure the general would be quite happy to accompany you in my stead and wherever else you need to go today.”