Valorian led her to a quiet alcove where the other minstrels carrying their supplies off the ship wouldn’t overhear.
“I’ve had a lot of time to think these past few days.”
Danika swallowed hard, listening carefully and expecting the worst.
Valorian glanced at the gathering crowd then at Bron’s ship. Her ship. Her choice. “Like I said before, I do not see what is not there. Your actions have showed me enough.”
Danika shuddered, thinking of Valorian alone in that dark cave. “I cannot imagine what you’ve been through.”
“Please, do not trouble yourself any longer on my account.” His words came out bitter.
Danika cringed and Valorian’s face softened. For her, his anger could only go so far.
He watched the minstrels unpacking the boat. “Only a hard-hearted fool would keep you from love.” He gazed at her wistfully. “Even though this might come back to haunt both our people, you are not bound to me or the House of Song.”
Valorian scanned the people congregating at the docks and then their mingled army disembarking from the ships. “We have proved together we provide a much stronger united front. So many have died, why start a civil war between us? We would be foolish to fight amongst each other when necromancers awaken armies of undead and beasts that breathe fire still roam this world. Let us unite not by marriage but by treaty.” He knelt before her, offering her a scroll. “While I rule, you will always have the House of Song’s army, should you need it.”
Danika unfurled the scroll. He’d written a peace pact in beautiful, calligraphed letters between both kingdoms, to be signed by the King of Song and the King of Ebonvale, whomever that should be.
She stood speechless, every wish of hers coming true. They had their unity and their victory, and she had the option to choose Ebonvale’s rightful king. “And you shall have Ebonvale’s army in return.”
Valorian stood and smiled sadly with acceptance shining in his eyes. “That is all I can ask for. Who knows? Maybe the next generation will have better luck.” He winked, looking more like himself than he had since he’d come back from the dead. “Come, let us provide a united front to our people to usher in a new, golden age.”
Danika took his arm and together, they walked to greet the crowd. People cheered, throwing their hats. Little boys played with wood carvings of knights and dragons, and maidens swooned over the incoming army. Hope shone in their faces where despair and fear had been, heartening Danika. Ebonvale would rebuild, and her kingdom would move on. Her father would have been so proud. As for what her mother would say, Danika would have to ask her. She looked forward to their reunion with a renewed sense of love.
Valorian spoke first. During his speech, Danika’s gaze wandered over to Bron. As always, his stoic face showed no emotion, but she could have sworn she saw hardness in his eyes, turning her heart cold.
Had guilt and disgust eaten away at his love until there was nothing left? She wanted to throw her arms around him and tell him of Valorian’s forgiveness. Most of all, she wanted to ask him the question she’d been longing to ask ever since she kissed him at her father’s grave. Every heartbeat seemed an eternity.
Finally, the speeches ended. As people greeted the returning soldiers, Danika said her goodbyes to Valorian and his minstrel army and made her way to Bron and the Royal Guard.
The Chief of Arms stood alone on the pier, his gaze searching the sea. The ships bobbed with the incoming tide, and seagulls stood on the beach, cracking open oyster shells. Danika approached him. This time he did not seem to hear her footsteps, dismaying her even more.
“Bron?”
The warrior turned and smiled sadly when he saw her. “A lovely day for unity, is it not?”
“Aye.”
Bron put his hand on the pier, idly scratching lines in the wood with his fingernail. He didn’t meet her eyes. “You and Valorian have made up, then?”
Danika tried not to smirk. The jealousy in his eyes raised her hope. He did still care. “No, he’s offered a peace pact between our kingdoms. Marriage was not part of the bargain.”
A shocked expression came upon Bron’s face. “You speak the truth?”
Warmth spread through her. “Every word of it. Valorian forgave me He let me go. I can follow my heart as I wish.”
Bron shook his head and gazed at his boots like a flustered schoolboy. “I didn’t expect this. I don’t know what to say.”
She took his hand, running her fingers over his callouses. She’d had a long time to think about what she’d say, and to renew his honor, it had to be good. “My choice wasn’t your fault. I know you told me your feelings back there on the boat. But, the truth is, what you said had no bearing on my decision.”
She took his face in her hands. “The truth is, I’ve loved you all along.”
Bron blinked as if in disbelief. Pain, desire, then joy swirled through his gaze. He shook his head. “I cannot marry a princess. I’m a farmboy with no land or title to my name.”
“You’re a hero who’s saved not only me, but our kingdom.” Danika pulled him close, not caring who saw or the gossip to follow. She touched his breastplate, running her fingers along Ebonvale’s crest whimsically. “Tell me, what are your thoughts on becoming king?”
Epilogue
Muriel opened a velvet sack and pulled out a long string of pearls. “My mother bestowed me with these on my tenth birthday. She claimed my father took them from the sea and stranded them together.” She wore Danika’s pink silk gown instead of her plain handmaiden’s cottons. Danika had insisted her half-sister dress like an equal.
Muriel smiled. “We both know the truth behind that tale.”
Danika touched the cool, smooth surface of the large center pearl. The oily white sheen glistened in the rays of sun filtering through her triangular chamber windows. “They’re beautiful all the same.”
“Which is why I want you to have them.” Muriel opened the clasp and held each end to Danika’s bare neck. “As a wedding gift to wear when you walk down the courtyard.”
Warmth spread through Danika’s heart like a rising sun over Ebonvale’s now-peaceful lands. She smiled and shook her head. “I cannot accept such a keepsake.”
“Nonsense. I want you to have some part of me with you. We’re sisters, remember? Besides, you’re not traveling to any distant kingdom anytime soon. I’ll still see them on your lovely neck.”
Danika smoothed her wedding dress, humbled with gratitude. If her destiny had taken another course, she’d be standing at the House of Song and marrying Valorian. “Thank Helena for that.”
Muriel fastened the necklace around Danika’s neck. “You are content with your choice?”
Danika thought of Bron’s eyes widening in surprise as a trace of a smile worked its way into the corner of his lips after she asked him to be her king. His gaze had smoldered as he drew her close. His response still sent a tingle down her arms and legs, “If it means being with you, then yes.”
She couldn’t have picked a more worthy man to be king. Danika smiled. “I am more than content.”
“Good. I always thought you and Bron--”
A knock sounded.
Muriel whirled around with annoyance. “Who could it be at this hour? Everyone should be setting up the courtyard and taking their seats.”
Had Nip lost the rings?
Danika adopted her formal tone. “Come in.”
Ariella stepped in and bowed. “There is someone here to see you, my lady.”
Muriel put her hands on her hips. “Who would interrupt the princess’s preparations for her wedding?”
The young handmaiden winced. “She wouldn’t say. She had the messenger’s seal so I let her in.”
Danika’s chest tightened. Had the wyverns returned? Or the army of Sill? “Let the messenger in.”
Ariella bit her lip and glanced at Muriel. “She wishes to speak with the princess alone.”
Muriel shook her head adamantly. “I do not li
ke the sound of this. Right before the wedding? Could it be an assassin from the House of Song come to take revenge for rejecting Valorian’s hand?”
“Don’t be ridiculous!” Danika stood and turned to the servant girl. “You did well, Ariella.” The princess glanced at her sword resting against the side of her bed. She’d learned from Bron to sleep with her weapons like loyal lovers. If she moved toward the blade, she’d only upset Muriel more. Besides, she could reach the other side of the room in seconds if she had to.
Danika took Muriel’s arm. “Go now. Leave me with my visitor.” She nodded to Ariella. “Admit the messenger.”
“I will stand outside this door.” Muriel straightened as if she’d had as much practice with hand-to-hand combat as she had with embroidery. “If I hear one strange sound, I’m bursting in.”
Danika raised her pointer finger. “You will do nothing of the sort. One of us has to live to rule the kingdom.”
Muriel’s face dropped and her mouth opened in shock.
Danika squeezed her arm. “I’m only jesting. Now, see to the final preparations. Make sure Bron hasn’t changed his mind.”
Muriel sighed. “He’d sooner stab his heart with his dagger.” She gave Danika a hard stare. “You know where to find me.”
“Indeed.” Danika waved her away. “Off with you!”
As Muriel left, a hooded figure wearing a torn black robe entered. The smell of pine and cherrywood blossoms drove Danika to step back in shock.
The messenger threw back her hood. Graying, white-blond hair spread from her mother’s face in a wild tangle. Sybil smiled. “I received your invitation.”
Danika had sent the messenger pigeon with mixed feelings and little hope. “I didn’t think you’d come.”
“And miss my own daughter’s wedding? For that I’ll endure a thousand gossiping tongues.”
Danika suppressed a wince. Her mother might have to if so much as one person recognized the former queen. “You should keep your hood on.” Although spoken out of love, Danika’s words came out with a dagger tongue. She wished she could find the compassion in her heart to be kinder to her mother, but the anger still worked its way in from time to time.
She’d stayed behind for Danika. Sybil smiled as though her daughter’s acid tongue dealt no pain. “I intend to, only if the hood doesn’t restrict my view of my gorgeous daughter.” She walked around Danika in a circle, admiring her gown. “You look lovely.”
“’Tis your wedding gown.”
“I remember.” Amusement flashed in Sybil’s eyes. “However, I have reason to believe you are a lot happier wearing the white silk than I was.” She squeezed Danika’s arm. “You chose wisely, my dear.”
Relief came upon Danika in a downpour. Knowing her mother favored her choice meant more to her than she thought it would. She hadn’t confided in anyone, not even Muriel, about her choice and what it meant to reject the hand of the Prince of Song. Only her mother would understand. “’Tis not the best decision for Ebonvale.”
“A content queen with a peaceful, open mind to rule is more precious to Ebonvale than a ruler with unrest in her heart.”
“I certainly hope so.” Danika had a sudden flash of herself as her mother, running away from the House of Song back to Bron. How disastrous that would have been for kingdom relations.
“I speak only truth.” Her mother leaned over and kissed Danika’s cheek. “I’m proud of you, daughter. Your actions have eased so many wrongs in my blighted heart.”
Tears brimmed in Danika’s eyes. Her mother’s visit had rekindled so much of her love, but the pain held her words back. Her mother turned to leave, and Danika’s chance of expressing gratitude slipped away. Could she bring herself to fully forgive?
As Sybil reached the door, Danika stepped forward and blurted, “Mother, wait.”
The old woman turned around and raised an eyebrow. Interest flashed in her good eye. “Yes?”
“I could use an advisor. Someone who has gained wisdom from experience.” Danika opened her heart to hope. “How about you stay a while.”
Aubrie Dionne
Aubrie Dionne has been a fantasy lover all of her life. She wrote her first poem in elementary school about how she’ll never get to see a unicorn. But, that doesn’t stop her from dreaming and writing about every fantasy creature she can conjure up. A fan of Lord of the Rings, she dreams about visiting the elves in Rivendell and having Legolas teach her how to wield a bow.
When she’s not writing, Aubrie teaches flute and plays in orchestras, making up stories to go along with the music. You can find her on the web at http://authoraubrie.blogspot.com and www.authoraubrie.net.
Also by Aubrie Dionne
Nebula’s Music
Messenger In the Mist
Lyrical Press books are published by
Kensington Publishing Corp. 119 West 40th Street New York, NY 10018
Copyright © 2014 Aubrie Dionne
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any means without the prior written consent of the publisher, excepting brief quotes used in reviews.
Lyrical Press and the L logo are trademarks of Kensington Publishing Corp.
First Electronic Edition: July 2014
ISBN-13: 978-1-61650-550-9
Table of Contents
MINSTREL’S SERENADE
Dedication
Acknowledgements
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Epilogue
Aubrie Dionne
Also by Aubrie Dionne
Minstrel's Serenade Page 25