Taken by Storm V3

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Taken by Storm V3 Page 22

by Cyndi Friberg


  “I’m as much a Joon as I am an Aune,” she said. “How can you disagree with that?”

  Ignoring the tension palpable in the room, Charlotte calmly waited for the dust to settle. Tal and Vee remained on either side of her, but one by one, the council members returned to their seats.

  Someone found a chair for Lilt dar Joon and silence descended on the room.

  Charlotte knew she would have to stand up to the TSC or become their puppet. She just hadn’t expected the showdown to take place so soon. She’d also hoped to solidify her role with the Traditionalist Sect before involving the Reformation Sect.

  Well, you wanted to know the challenges of being a litigator. This may be the most biased jury ever assembled.

  Though she was talking to herself, she wasn’t surprised when Vee responded.

  You are not the litigator, Shar Lott. You are the judge. They must bring their cases before you and you will decree what is best for the greater good.

  Charlotte smiled. From law student to judge in one fell swoop. Not bad for a day’s work.

  She forced her attention back to the hostile men surrounding her. How to begin?

  “We were discussing my role as the eldest female member of the Royal House of Aune. Shall we continue with those details or would you prefer to address the issue from the perspective of the House of Joon?”

  Lilt’s eyes narrowed and he crossed his arms over his chest. “You want this to be an auction? Whichever house offers you the sweeter deal receives what? The use of your power? The pleasure of your company? The—”

  His hands flew to his throat, blood rushed to his face and he could no longer speak.

  Without shifting her gaze, Charlotte elbowed Tal in the ribs.

  Lilt gasped and sputtered. “Keep your watchdog on a leash or I’ll—”

  “You’ll what?” Tal interrupted.

  “Master Aune, you are violating the Code of Ethics by using your powers to harm.” Vee’s complete lack of conviction made Charlotte want to laugh.

  “Why did you come here?” Charlotte asked Lilt. “We were having an amicable meeting when you stormed in with armed guards. Say what you came to say and leave.”

  Lilt rubbed his throat for a moment longer, glaring at Tal. “First, I want to know if it’s true. Are you Frim dar Joon’s daughter?”

  She had already admitted as much but these people seemed to be fond of official proclamations. “I am.”

  His gaze moved slowly over her face, intensifying as it locked with hers. “Are you a catalyst? Did you release latent abilities in my son?”

  Whispers rippled through the room. Apparently, not everyone knew of her gift. How to answer?

  You benefit nothing by denial, Vee silently advised.

  “I am and I did.”

  The whispers escalated to hushed conversations. She took a moment to look at Tal, but his attention was fixed on Lilt dar Joon. Hatred shone in his eyes and Charlotte wanted to shake him. This was not Dez! This could be an opportunity for a new beginning, the possibility of a new direction. Perhaps Lilt would even cooperate with them in apprehending his brother. But Tal had to let go of the past.

  “Prefect Aune, what are your intentions for Shar dar Joon?” Lilt asked.

  Or perhaps Lilt was here to add fuel to the fire.

  Before Roe Aune could respond to the provocation, Charlotte stood. “My name is Charlotte Layton, and I will be addressed as such until I say otherwise.”

  “A detail you would have known had you been invited to this meeting,” Prefect Aune added. “Are you an official representative of the Reformation Sect or are you here on behalf of the House of Joon?”

  It was a diplomatic way of asking if Dez was still alive and in power. Charlotte felt her stomach tighten and a stinging pulsation erupted in her brain. Grasping the edge of the table, she swallowed convulsively. The filth of Dez’s mind, his corrupted energy, crept through her memory, nauseating her, repulsing her all over again. Would she never be free of that creature?

  You are safe, my love, Tal’s voice assured her.

  She wanted to believe him. She needed to believe him, but not even the sanctuary of the Conservatory had kept Dez from her. Only the destruction of Dez dar Joon would make her feel completely safe.

  “Where is your brother?” she asked Lilt directly. “If you’re harboring him, I will have nothing to do with you.”

  Lilt shoved his chair back so forcefully it toppled and slid into the wall. “I’ll make this easy for everyone,” he said, his voice ringing. “I’m not my brother. I’m not my father. And you’re not the only ones capable of contacting the Symposium. As you know, they’re required to release information without prejudice.”

  Several of the councilmen began to protest but the prefect raised his hand and silenced them.

  “You’ve confirmed her identity for me so I’ll confirm her options for you.” Lilt went on. “Charlotte Layton is High Queen of Ontariese and according to the Traditionalist Sect, her first obligation is to select her life mate and produce an heir.”

  Charlotte’s mouth gaped, but she was the only one in the room to gasp this time. “Excuse me?”

  “Those Clarifications are old. There hasn’t been a High Queen for a very long time,” Lilt commented. “But Clarifications never really go out of date, now do they?”

  The obvious relish in Lilt’s tone made Charlotte immediately suspicious. Somehow, the Reformation Sect benefited from what was transpiring. Even with Dez out of the picture, at least for the moment, the House of Joon was on the move.

  “Get him out of here!” Prefect Aune managed the words with his teeth tightly clenched.

  “Wait,” she ordered. “What is he talking about?”

  “You’re hoping to recruit her before she understands the full ramifications of her choices,” Prefect Aune accused.

  Lilt’s brow shot up in challenge. “There are many ways to recruit support for a cause, Prefect Aune. Why don’t you ask your son how the Traditionalist Sect is doing?”

  Tal took a menacing step toward Lilt, but Charlotte wrapped her hand around his coiled hair. “How’s your nose, Joon?” she asked calmly. “The swelling’s gone but you’ve got some nasty bruises.”

  His hostile gaze turned toward her.

  “Unless you want this to turn into another brawl,” she warned, “tell me what you learned from the Symposium and leave.”

  “If the High Queen reaches her twentieth cycle without having chosen a life mate, she has one cycle of the moons to make her choice or it is the responsibility of the TSC to appoint her mate for her,” he recited.

  She didn’t need a month to choose her husband, Charlotte thought with a secret smile. She just needed a quiet moment alone with Tal—

  But Lilt went on. “And her life mate must be chosen from among the male heirs of the six great houses.”

  Lilt’s smug tone snapped her from her reverie. “What? I’m supposed to make this selection from six men?” Had these people lost their minds? What he described was right out of the dark ages.

  “Again, let me stress, this scenario only applies under the strictures of the Traditionalist Sect. If such pointless rituals don’t appeal to you, Your Majesty, I invite you to learn more about the Reformation Sect!” With a sharp hand gesture, Lilt dar Joon signaled his guards to follow him from the room.

  Shaking with foreboding, Charlotte sank into the nearest chair. This couldn’t be happening! “Is what he said true? Is this expected of the High Queen?” Her voice shook with disbelief.

  Every member of the TSC stared at her expectantly. Was she the only one who found this absurd?

  “He has intentionally made it sound utterly barbaric,” Roe Aune objected.

  “If it’s true, it is barbaric. Now answer the question. Were his statements accurate?”

  “This is an opportunity to restore Ontariese to the glory that preceded the Great Conflict,” Roe Aune said. “If you choose your life mate carefully, we can reclaim peace for the
first time in a century. This must be done for the greater good.”

  The wistful determination in Roe Aune’s voice nearly convinced her until she realized what he was really saying. She would become the life mate of his heir.

  Even if she chose the House of Aune, the closest she could get to Tal would be his brother!

  * * *

  “If I hear the words ‘greater good’ one more time, I’m going to hurt someone,” Charlotte shouted. She didn’t often raise her voice, but this nonsense justified the outburst.

  She insisted—repeatedly—that the sects were already reunified through her existence, that there was no need for this barbaric ultimatum. But the TSC voted—unanimously—to uphold the Clarification. Deaf to her protests, Prefect Aune resumed the speech Lilt’s arrival had interrupted. Once his “pronouncements” were complete, the meeting adjourned and the council simply dispersed.

  Stinking cowards!

  That left her in the council chambers with Trey and Tal. Even Vee slipped away without explanation.

  “I don’t want to be High Queen of Ontariese.” Charlotte glared at the Aune brothers, giving each equal time beneath her scathing gaze. “Give this honor to someone else!”

  “It is not an occupation or an elected position,” Tal said softly. “It’s your birthright.”

  “Well, la-de-da!”

  The brothers wisely stayed on the other side of the table. Charlotte slapped her palms down on the tabletop and leaned toward Tal. “If all my birthright entitles me to is a loveless marriage and the honor of being a brood mare, you can keep it. There has to be meaning in a monarchy or it should be abolished.”

  “You are being unreasonable,” Tal said.

  “You’re damn right I am, and I have no intention of changing my strategy. This is ridiculous!”

  She stopped to catch her breath and Trey Aune took up where his brother left off.

  “Charlotte, you must understand what this war cost us. If our joining—”

  “Our joining?” she cut in. “You’ve got the cart before the horse there, Commander Aune. I have no intention of marrying you.”

  “You would rather join with Joon?” he protested. “Or one of the others?”

  “I’m not going to join with anyone.” She kicked Lilt’s toppled chair, sending it skittering across the length of the room. “Your father spoke of peace treaties and negotiations. Any treaty is only as good as the society backing it. Ask the Symposium to research the American Indians, if you don’t believe me. Do you trust Lilt dar Joon? Do you honestly believe he’ll abide by whatever conditions we lay down, even if I am High Queen? This is foolishness. There has to be a logical way out of this mess and I intend to find it.”

  “The Standards are clear—” Trey began.

  “To hell with the Standards.” She turned her back on him dismissively. “I want to talk to Tal alone.”

  She barely heard the heavy doors open and close over her ragged breathing. The TSC’s expectations infuriated her, but she couldn’t believe she stood alone. No one spoke a word in her defense. Not even Tal. They all agreed that she should willingly sacrifice her happiness to benefit the “greater good”.

  Tal moved to stand before her. He reached out but she slapped his hand away. She could hear blood rushing in her ears and she licked her dry lips.

  “Do you love me?” she asked.

  “It is not that simple.”

  “Do you love me?”

  “You know I do, but this is not about love.”

  She closed her eyes against the pain. He wouldn’t fight for her. He loved her, but he loved his precious traditions more. Preparing herself for the coming rejection, Charlotte opened her eyes. “Then take me back to Earth or somewhere, anywhere. I don’t care. Just as long as it’s a place where our love matters more than anything else.” Tears burned in her throat, making it hard to speak.

  “If it were just we two, I would not hesitate. But you are the High Queen of Ontariese. I cannot—”

  “You ask me to sacrifice our love for your traditions, but you won’t sacrifice your traditions for our love.”

  His fingers touched her cheek so softly it felt like a farewell. Grief ate at her composure until she wanted to wail.

  “I will be your faithful consort,” he pledged. “I will love you with my body and soul.”

  “Even after I marry your brother?” she cried.

  “It is acceptable for a woman to have a consort, even after she has chosen her life mate,” he admitted stiffly.

  She shook her head, repulsed by what he suggested. “Maybe that bastard is right. Maybe it’s time I learned more about the Reformation Sect.”

  Tears blurred her vision but she shook off his hand and stormed from the room.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Lilt dar Joon glanced up from the vidscreen centered on his desktop as the dark-haired lad entered his office. The boy carried the food tray Lilt had requested earlier, but something in his manner caught Lilt’s attention.

  “Place it there and leave.” He pointed to a small table by the windows, making the command unusually gruff.

  As the lad obeyed, Lilt carefully watched his movements.

  “Is something the matter, sire?” the boy asked.

  “Are you having fun, Dez?” Lilt responded, careful to keep all emotion from his face.

  Without replying, the servant walked to the door, but instead of departing, he cast a Mystic seal, preventing both interruption and eavesdropping.

  “You’ve always been able to spot my shifts,” Dez said, returning to his customary shape. “It’s really very disappointing.”

  “I looked for you at the council meeting but I didn’t see you there.” Lilt leaned forward, resting his forearms on the desktop. “Of course I was rather occupied.”

  Dez stopped directly in front of the desk, his arms folded, his hands slipped into the opposite sleeves. “Why didn’t you tell me what you had planned? I must admit I was impressed. I’ve never seen you so…assertive.”

  Lilt stood and walked to the table, now bearing the food tray. “You’ve never really seen me. It’s as simple as that.” He sat and shook out his napkin. “What do you want? You’re spoiling my meal.”

  “Do you really imagine she will come crawling to you?” Dez asked, his gaze narrowed and hostile.

  “Did you bother to learn anything about the world on which you found her? The Reformation Sect has far more to offer a High Queen who believes in ‘life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness’ than the Traditionalist Sect will ever understand.”

  The sound of Dez’s laughter halted Lilt’s fork halfway to his mouth. “My interest in Charlotte has very little to do with the Reformation Sect.”

  Lilt set down his fork and pushed back from the table. “I may be invisible to you, but you’ve always been transparent to me. I know what you want, and thanks to Charlotte, I know how you get it.”

  “Then it was you.” Dez sneered and his eyes began to glow. “I wondered why there were no females anywhere near Fortress Joon.” He advanced.

  “You can destroy me, brother. I don’t doubt your power. But how will you destroy her if you use up what little energy you have left on me? I’m incidental. You can take care of me once you’ve finished off Charlotte.”

  The intensity in Dez’s gaze subsided but his expression still promised murder. “Where are all the women?” he demanded.

  Lilt laughed and crossed his arms over his chest. “Now that’s interesting. It occurred to me when I heard about your captives that without a ready supply of females to recharge you, the fight might be a bit more interesting.”

  “I can find them,” Dez bragged with a haughty toss of his head.

  “Oh, I’m sure you can—eventually. But the Mystics aren’t going to wait around while you do.”

  “I’m your brother! Why would you do this to me?”

  “It also made me wonder when I heard about your captives if Ijhana wasn’t quite as mad as I’d been led to
believe.”

  “Ijhana?” Dez made the name sound like a snarl. “What does this have to do with your life mate?”

  Leaning his hip against the table, Lilt shrugged. “Perhaps nothing. Perhaps everything.”

  “She slit her wrists five days after giving birth to Lor. How can you blame that on me? Many women go a little mad after a birthing.”

  “She complained of nightmares even before she conceived, but especially after. She said I would come to her and lie with her but it wasn’t me. She said she fought this creature but he paralyzed her with his evil and fed upon her very soul. I believed then that her mind had gone, but now I wonder. Were they nightmares or did my brother force himself on my life mate while she was carrying my child?”

  Expecting shock, hoping for regret, Lilt was stunned when his brother laughed.

  “What makes you think Lor’s your child?” Dez taunted, and shifted from the room.

  * * *

  Mist curled around Charlotte’s body, gossamer strands caressing and carrying her. She floated peacefully, weightlessly. Gently swaying, moving effortlessly with the breeze.

  The wind intensified.

  She flew.

  Free. She was free. Laughing and twirling, she reveled in the freedom. She soared over snowcapped mountains, squinting into a bright blue sky. Pangs of longing interrupted her joy as the familiar landscape blurred in the distance, fading and twisting. But she was still free.

  Eyes watched her, followed her, searing her with their penetrating stare. She couldn’t escape the watcher. She ran—he followed. She hid, always hiding. Her legs ached from running. Her lungs burned.

  She burned. Smoke choked her, stinging her eyes. She ran toward the smoldering ruin of her cabin, her feet kicking up ash with each frantic step. She gasped. Soot filled her lungs. Coughing and wheezing, she sank to the charred ground.

  Overwhelming despair sprang up within her. She wept, tears flowing from her body in torrents, turning the ground all around her to mud.

  The mud smelled like smoke. She gagged. It sucked at her, consumed her, seeping into her pores. She screamed, flailing wildly to free herself from the mire but it pulled her deeper.

 

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