Phoenix Rising (Maggie Henning & The Realm Book 1)

by Lisa Morgan

  “This is not your task. Let others handle this part of the battle.” I opened my mouth to protest, but he raised his hand further. “Of this there can be no negotiation, Margaret,” he added.

  That didn’t keep me from arguing, however. “It’s my father! There must be something I can do.”

  “This was an order by King Edwyn. You would do well to not anger him by questioning his will.”

  I huffed. I knew my grandfather was correct and that no matter what I tried, he wouldn’t elaborate, but it didn’t mean I had to like it. He wouldn’t be swayed, so for now, I reluctantly set aside my father’s rescue plan and how I could be an asset to it. I’d find some way I could help.

  “I’ve brought you a gift,” Liam offered, changing the subject.

  My grandfather took a long, black box from inside his jacket pocket and it was then I noticed his attire, having been in such a state of shock upon seeing my own transformation.

  His jacket was black, a crescent moon emblazoned over his heart and silver ribbon trimmed the sleeves and collar. His black dress pants also had a wide silver ribbon seam down the sides. His hair was freshly washed and groomed, combed back into a low ponytail, making his face appear long and distinguished.

  “You look really nice,” I commented to him, smiling.

  “Thank you, but I fear you shall overshadow all of us this evening,” he answered, opening the box for me. I smiled at his sweet words and glanced down at the unnecessary gift.

  Lying in the satin lining was a necklace. It looked like silver, but I sensed it was probably platinum. Every few centimeters were stones, perfectly clear and casting rainbows of color when the light touched them. Each was encircled by a ring of tiny sapphires no bigger than the eye of a needle, the pattern repeating until it reached the middle. The gem at the center also looked to be a sapphire, but much larger than the ones that accented the clear gems. It was shaped like an azure teardrop, and a crescent moon—in the same silver metal as the chain—was embedded in the face of the stone.

  My grandfather signaled me with his finger, prompting me to once again face the mirror. I moved as requested, watching his reflection as he fastened the necklace around my neck.

  He explained softly as he worked, “The stone is a sapphire. Each smaller blue stone was cut from this one original. The clearer stones are diamonds from the mines beneath Celine. The crescent moon, as you may have noticed by its prevalence, is the seal of The Realm and its ruling family. Your mother …”

  His words began faltering as he watched me bring my fingers to the jewel, tenderly stroking the stone. Liam took a deep breath and placed his hands on my shoulders and I let my eyes meet his.

  “Your mother wore this the day she married your father. It was actually here in this castle, before the king and queen of The Realm. I thought it fitting that this night, looking as beautiful as she had, that you also be adorned with it,” he finished, the words catching in his throat.

  “It’s lovely,” I whispered, catching my breath as I imagined my mother standing in front of this very mirror, preparing to marry my father. I could envision the flowing white gown that fit her curves, I could feel the butterflies in her stomach as she readied to say the vows that would promise herself to my father forever.

  And it was those thoughts that made my eyes blur. I turned around and threw my arms around my grandfather, hugging him tightly. He returned the embrace, holding me close as he rubbed my back affectionately.

  “They’d be so very proud of their daughter,” he offered softly into my hair, not releasing me. I squeezed him harder, desperately failing to hold back the dam of tears as they began to crest.

  Liam pulled away, capturing my elbows and looking down to me. “That witch wasn’t kidding,” he joked, making levity of my tears as his thumb stole a teardrop from beneath my eye. “I think she really would curse you if you entered the ballroom with streaks on your face.”

  I smiled, fighting the urge to dab my eyes. I turned to the mirror, double checking that I hadn’t completely wrecked Autumn’s make-up job. Feeling I’d pass, I turned and smiled with satisfaction. My grandfather offered me his arm, bent as I would expect a gentleman’s to be.

  “Shall we?” he asked.

  I brought my hand up and under the elbow he offered, nodding. “Let’s go.”

  Twenty Six

  Holding my grandfather’s arm, he guided me expertly through the maze of corridors toward the ballroom where the soiree was to take place. Butterflies darted nervously in my stomach with each step closer we took, the bodice of my dress seeming to tighten and trying to steal my breath away. I’d never been to a high school dance, let alone some big formal event where the host was a king and I was the guest of honor.

  Heck, I don’t think I’d ever met the mayor of the small town I grew up in.

  My thoughts drifted to Stephanie. Man, she would have loved this. All the pageantry, the formal wear and elegancy that came along with a momentous social event like this … she’d probably even knew when to curtsey or to flirt mildly with the host.

  I was frightened I was going to screw the whole night up and had a strong urge to bolt away, like Cinderella at the stroke of midnight. Liam, sensing my worries, offered my hand a gentle squeeze in reassurance.

  Easy for him, I scoffed to myself. He wasn’t teetering in four inch heels, fearing decapitation should he spill his drink.

  Music was creeping down the hallway as we rounded the corner. I saw light emanating from the side wall ahead, and I knew we were close.

  No running now.

  Sweet smells filled the air as we closed the distance. I couldn’t quite place a finger on what the spice-filled scents were. Ginger, nutmeg, and maple syrup all teased my nose in a pleasant assault on my olfactory system, causing my stomach to grumble quietly with the promise of food.

  Liam tapped my hand as we paused just beside the doorway, drawing my focus to him. He spoke with an easy smile, taking a step toward the entrance as he released me. “I leave you here.”

  “Hold it!” I begged as I reached for him, my hand just missing its grip on his sleeve, and I wobbled in the heels I was wearing. He glanced back, smiling with amusement, and disappeared inside.

  “Well great,” I muttered, unsure of my next move.

  I stared at the doorway before glancing to the knights in full armor holding halberds and stationed at the entrance. “I don’t suppose you guys can help a girl out, can you?” Neither guard made a move or acknowledged I’d spoken to them.

  “Of course not,” I mumbled, disgruntled, and closed my eyes.

  “It’s okay, Gramps,” I complained to myself, knowing he was out of earshot and assuming these sentries would ignore me, “I’m just walking into the king’s ballroom, trying not to trip over my own feet, and praying I don’t insult the very man who could order my death.”

  A fresh wave of dread washed over me after the words left my mouth. What would he do to me if I did accidently insult him? Would he throw me in some dungeon to live off only scraps of bread and warm water? My God … what if he decided to use me to set an example and publically executed me for not bowing when I should? I could be beheaded for confusing the salad and dinner fork!

  “Need a hand?” I heard the calm voice quip behind me.

  “Luc,” I breathed, exacerbated as I turned around to meet him. I couldn’t help but give him an appraising look. Man, he cleans up nice…

  He was dressed in a jet black outfit bearing the same crescent moon woven in silver and covering the solid chest piece of fabric; a midnight cape trimmed in the same shade of platinum lazily thrown over his left shoulder like a matador may prior to teasing the bull. His slacks were similar to Liam’s, but he wore them tucked into polished black corsair boots, another crescent moon emblem displayed where his shins would be.

  His hair was feathered, hanging casually over his ears in that style that screamed I know I look good for a bad boy; the image made more pronounced by the teasing smile that
donned his lips and spread all the way to his emerald eyes. The lantern light overhead deepened the cobalt blue highlights in his locks and they came to life, dancing as the torch lights flickered.

  “Are you okay?” I asked him, thinking about the exchange we’d had with the monsters twenty-four hours prior.

  “Am I okay?” he laughed easily. “I’m not the one bound up in fabric, trying to breathe; let alone attempting to balance on two sticks when I walk.”

  I guess he’d recovered, back to the Luc I’d first met.

  I mocked in reply, “At least I didn’t rob a pirate and steal his kicks.”

  Luc laughed wholeheartedly at my jab, and I found my nerves settling. There was something strangely comfortable and easy about being with this vampire that hadn’t been there before the revenant attack. Maybe the experience had somehow formed a bond between the pair of us; sort of a mutual respect of each other for surviving.

  I went on, my laughter dying in my throat as I remembered my current predicament. “Liam left me out here and I don’t know what I’m supposed to do next.”

  Luc nodded just as a horn blew from inside the ballroom. I jumped, startled by the unexpected trumpeting, and lost my balance, falling against his chest.

  His arms tensed when he caught me, holding me as I leaned into him. Luc glanced down, meeting my eyes, and I found myself almost captive to his deep green irises. Countless moments seemed to pass as we remained in the embrace.

  “You have an uncanny knack for falling into people’s arms,” Luc remarked softly, almost breathlessly, as he held my gaze.

  “Yeah,” I spoke on an exhale, “I’m finding that a lot lately.”

  Luc helped me to stand and made a point to distance himself from me. For just a second, all air in my lungs had vanished, replaced with a heavy emptiness in my chest like I’d been robbed of something precious and vital to my world that I needed to reclaim.

  “The Sovereign Ruler of the Realm, His Majesty, King Edwyn of Celine,” a voice bellowed from inside the room, followed by a rumble of applause. I was tempted to peek around the corner, but Luc stopped me with his hand.

  “It would be wise not to steal Edwyn’s thunder. He’s been known to decapitate people for such an offense,” he advised.

  “Decapitate?” I whimpered, almost choking on my fear.

  Luc laughed at my worry. “You need to lighten up! It was a joke!”

  I swatted his arm and he feigned hurt at the impact. The clapping was beginning to die down, and I grew serious again. I looked to Luc for guidance, wishing he were Michel to take it more seriously.

  “In a moment,” the well-dressed vampire instructed seriously, his mood souring after hearing my thought, “the bard will introduce you. You enter as gracefully as you can and walk through the middle of the room, through the guests. The king will be sitting on his throne on a raised platform at the end of the swath that will part for your entrance. Stop at the bottom and bow. Don’t rise to look at him or straighten yourself, no matter what, until you hear the king say your name. Got it?”

  “Through the middle, to the king, bow, stay down until he says my name,” I repeated the instructions to Luc. “I think I’ve got it.”

  “As the older of the two princes, it’s my duty to escort your entrance and present you to my father,” Luc spoke.

  “Your duty?” I teased with a smile, hoping to lighten the mood.

  “There are worse things the king could ask of me.” The vampire smiled, even as a shadow skirted his features and the silver in his irises dimmed before he continued, “The most important thing to remember is to bow when we get there. I’ll tap your hand as a cue to tell you when. No king likes a defiant subject, and that’s how he views you, Maggie. As a subject under his rule.”

  I opened my mouth to argue with Luc, but before the words left my lips, he reached out and pinched them shut.

  “One night, Maggie. Set aside your delicate human female sensibilities and just do what I’m telling you. If for no other reason than self-preservation, okay? Be offended tomorrow.”

  Reluctantly, I nodded at Luc’s instructions. He studied me for a moment, making sure I wasn’t going to argue, before he freed my lips. I licked them, tasting the salty remains of his touch, all while Luc’s eyes examined my tongue’s movement. He opened his mouth to say something, but the horn toned again, preventing him.

  “Beloved guests of King Edwyn,” the same deep voice that announced the king’s arrival spoke with authority. “It is with great privilege and respect that you are here by invitation of the princes of The Realm and of King Edwyn this evening. I am pleased and honored to announce to you Margaret Henning, daughter of the honorable John and Muriel Henning, and the last of the Phoenix.”

  “Showtime,” Luc inhaled over the clapping, offering me his arm.

  Taking a deep breath to calm my nerves so I wouldn’t burst into flames, I threaded my arm through the prince’s and we made our way inside to the event.

  The first sight was that of King Edwyn and my feet stumbled briefly. Luc gave my arm a squeeze to calm me. Glancing sideways, I offered him a discreet nod, and we continued through the parting crowd.

  There was all manner of supposed mythical beings in attendance, each standing in contingencies together and flanked by a banner man holding a flag, identifying each group by an appointed sigil. I spied Autumn, standing with a group of women to my left. They didn’t look any more like witches than Autumn had when I’d found out what she was. They were all gorgeous, taller than my friend but with the same gentle smiles on each of their faces that she wore. As I made my way past, they offered bows, acknowledging me.

  The ballroom was enormous, but for all of its size and the plethora of creatures in it, no one made a sound as I proceeded forward; the tapping of my heels on the marble floor the only noise in the weighted silence.

  And my heartbeat, of course. That echoed out loud enough to drown out an explosion, at least inside my own head.

  Luc nudged me slightly, and I realized the majority of the room was filled with vampires who could hear every thought like I were screaming it directly in their ears. Focusing, I tried to clear my mind completely.

  The different clans of fae stood to the right of my path. Their flags stood proudly, depicting evergreen trees, sunflowers, even poison ivy. I saw a flag, white in the background, but with a large sword in the middle, a pair of lilac flowers resting on either side of its hilt. The group was smaller than the other clans of fae. I saw Seatha and maybe a handful of fairies standing beneath the banner.

  Also in attendance were creatures I couldn’t identify. One group, all shirtless men, their skin as red as a cola can with small black horns peeking through their black hair. Another group, also all men with small horns, had legs that looked like they belonged to a small horse.

  There were other creatures, too, but standing nearest the steps to the throne was a creature whose beauty I couldn’t measure. Ebony hair, pulled into the now familiar half ponytail, dressed identical to Luc, and with piercing green eyes that followed my every movement as I made my way toward the king.

  Michel, watching me proceed through the room escorted by his brother, stood at the base of his father’s throne. Methodically, he studied me. As Luc brought us to a stop in front of the steps, Michel gave a quick smile, his fangs not hidden but not scaring me either. Luc tapped my hand softly and gave me my cue.

  “Father,” Luc announced, his tone serious, “it is with the greatest of honor that I present to you Margaret Henning, the final Phoenix.” He released me and I saw his foot take a step backward. Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed his hair had slipped forward, hiding his eyes behind a veil of his hair as he knelt before his father.

  I copied Luc’s gesture, praying I wasn’t the only one in the room holding their breath, waiting for the king to speak as I bent forward, bowing deeply to the King of The Realm. The atmosphere had changed, growing heavy, and I took a moment to close my eyes, centering myself for what
ever was to come.

  “Margaret Henning,” the king’s voice spoke without emotion. “Rise.”

  I did as commanded; finally close enough to really see his features. He had the same sable hair his sons possessed, and it hung down his back in a deftly woven braid. His eyes held more silver than Luc’s or Michel’s, instead flecked with the green, and he wore a beard cropped close to his face. The crown on his head was identical to the one in the history book my grandfather owned, winding vines crested with a slivered shard of moon. The clothes matched his sons’ right down to the boots on his feet.

  His appearance, his eyes, everything about him radiated power and utter control, and I fully comprehended my grandfather’s warning regarding questioning the king’s commands.

  The king spoke formally, his eyes set on me, “I welcome you here. It has been many years that we have awaited your arrival to aid in the destruction of the revenants and their leader, Ossa. You honor us with your presence.” I offered another bow to the king, feeling it was the expected move.

  He boomed over my head to the crowd, “Tonight we celebrate, raising our toasts to the end of this conflict. For too many years, we have fought. For too long have we lit the pyres of our family and friends. Now,” he tilted his words to me, “the Phoenix has come, and so, too, shall the end of this war.”

  The room erupted in cheers around me.

  No pressure, Maggie, I thought, and then immediately gave myself a mental slap for thinking it. I was sure the king, his sons, and the scores of other vampires in the room heard me, but none made mention. The king raised his hands, and the room drew silent.

  “Tonight,” he commanded, “eat. Drink. Dance and celebrate, for tonight is the first day of many happier ones to come.” More cheering and applause for King Edwyn’s rhetoric bounced through the room.

  The king sat, bowing his head modestly. I returned the gesture, but didn’t move, not sure what I was supposed to do next. Music began playing, an orchestra filling the ballroom with a celebratory tune.

  The king, hearing my thoughts and keeping his voice low, leaned a bit closer to me and suggested, “Perhaps, if you are unsure of what step to take first, you should chose a direction?”