“Have faith.” Nejeela took his hand, her expression softening. “You have made it this far, though every element has conspired against you. We need you.”
Doran closed his eyes, feeling the sun baking his flesh and the dry air grating at his throat. Maybe he would live. It was a precious thing, to be valued once more. Perhaps it would be enough.
* * *
Before long everyone who had been planning to leave was gone—the Whitlanders and the Varrilans and the Darden warriors and every representative of the disparate races of the Kinship Thrones. Though hundreds of tents remained scattered throughout Lostport, housing the villagers and followers who were to help with the rebuild, Laina was surprised by how empty and stark the village had become in the absence of the builders. It was a very subdued household that came together for breakfast the morning after the last departure of the barges. Her father’s staff had joined Laina’s family, though they were short one kitchen hand and one guard—Nort was battling for his life against an infection born from a grisly shoulder wound.
Still, it lifted Laina’s spirits to see Conard at the table again, for the first time since her brother’s accident. No matter that he sat among the servants, between the youngest kitchen hand and the tailor. Laina could still catch his eye and smile whenever her parents were distracted.
As the meal neared an end, Laina’s father tapped his mug twice on the table for attention. He did not have to rap loudly; silence already filled the room.
“I have no gifts to offer you that would come close to repaying you for what you have done,” he told his household. “So you must accept my heartfelt thanks. You have fed thousands of desperate people, tolerated their presence for a very long quarter, and tended their wounds. You have shown Lostport to possess the truest sense of hospitality and goodwill, impoverished though it may be. I am king of this land in name only. It is you—my beloved people—to whom I owe everything.”
Laina caught her mother’s eye and beamed at her father. Had she truly imagined she would leave home and never return? This was her place. It had always been.
When the household gave him a smattering of applause, her father cleared his throat, reddening. “In light of recent events,” he continued, “I feel this announcement is overdue. Laina, could you please stand?”
Laina sat up straight as every head turned to her. Warily she pushed back her chair and stood, wishing she had taken more care with her appearance this morning. Her ankle was healing at last, though it was still tender.
“May I introduce you to the future queen of Lostport? No longer are we bound to Whitland’s rule of male inheritance. Married or not, Laina is my rightful heir. She has always been the one best suited for the throne. I cannot believe it took us twenty-two years to acknowledge this.”
The applause this time rang off the walls of the dining hall. Face burning, Laina sat down quickly and sank down in her chair, wishing she could hide.
“And what about Doran?” her mother asked quietly, hand on her father’s arm.
“If he is happy and well provided-for in Chelt, I will not force him to return home. But if he does wish to return someday, he will be welcomed like a king.” He gave Laina a significant look. “However, even if he does return, you will remain the heir to Lostport. Doran never wished to rule. I refused to admit as much before, because I had no better choice. Yet now—”
Laina slid still lower in her chair.
Afterward, her parents went into town to survey the progress of the rebuild while their household dispersed. Only then did the truth sink in.
When her father was gone, she would be the one responsible for the fate of her beloved kingdom. She would guide Lostport through whatever challenges came its way.
And she could marry whomever she liked.
Laina did not know where Conard had gone, so she wandered into town herself, dressed in simple trousers and a tunic in an attempt to pass unnoticed. Near the docks, Conard caught up with her and wrestled her to the ground.
Gasping, Laina struggled from his grip and gave his ear a good tug. “That’s entirely undignified!”
Conard laughed. “You’re not the queen yet. I’ve got to take my chances while I still can.” He stood and offered a hand to Laina, who stood without his help and frowned at him. “Oh, don’t be angry. Will you come for a ride with me?” He offered her a hand again, his smile turning sly. “I have a very important question I want to ask you.”
The boat they borrowed was a small sailboat, fifteen paces long, one of the few that had escaped the fighting intact. It was a clear day, the sky streaked with a few thin clouds, and the breeze that fingered Conard’s hair, sloppy from spans of neglect, held the last warmth of summer. Conard took the helm, Laina the sails, and they plowed across the waves in companionable silence, occasionally meeting one another’s eyes and smiling.
Before long they were passing beyond the entrance to Port Emerald, following the vertical shoreline around two snow-dusted mountains and out of sight of anything familiar.
“Where are we going? Not Port Emerald?”
Conard lashed the rudder in place and knelt beside Laina. When he slipped an arm around her waist, she leaned into his shoulder, grateful that nothing had changed between them. “We’re going somewhere even better,” Conard said. “It’s a secret valley where no human has ever set foot before. It has waterfalls dropping off sheer cliffs, and glaciers tucked right beneath the peaks. It’s our very own.”
And as they rounded the next mountain and passed into a deep, still fjord, it seemed the entire world stretched before them.
the end
Also by R.J. Vickers
The Natural Order Series
The Natural Order
Rogue Magic
Lost Magic
The Final Order
* * *
Beauty’s Songbook
About the Author
R.J. Vickers is the author of the Natural Order series, as well as Beauty’s Songbook, a Beauty and the Beast retelling, and College Can Wait!, a gap year guidebook for reluctant students.
When she’s not writing, you can find her hiking, traveling, taking photos, and crocheting.
Though she grew up in Colorado, she now lives with her husband in New Zealand.
You can find her online at rjvickers.com.
The Fall of Lostport Page 46