Selene followed Damien around the throne to the door that led out onto the balcony that overlooked the city of Nor Esen. Thousands of lights flickered across the city, and the gentle sound of the sea provided the background music.
Selene pulled up the hood of her dress and came to stand beside Damien at the balcony. There was hardly a breeze tonight, as if the Northern Shores was holding its breath for what would happen next. Then, one by one, the lights began to go out across the city. It started at the far end where the gates were, then moved upward toward Northwind Castle.
“What’s going on? Is something wrong?” Selene leaned over the balcony, trying to see who or what was putting out the lights.
Damien’s hand gently gripped her elbow. “No, this is part of the festival.”
“The lights disappear for the festival?”
“Yes. Just watch.”
Soon, all the lights were gone across the city. Then the lights began to disappear within Northwind Castle itself. There was no moon and no stars because of the cloud cover, so when the last candle was extinguished, the world fell into darkness. Silence descended upon the city.
Selene took a step back. She wasn’t sure she liked this. It reminded her too much of home, of dreamscapes and nightmares.
“It’s all right, Selene.” Damien’s hand moved from her elbow, and he entwined his fingers between her own. “Watch and listen.”
His grip was reassuring. Slowly, her body relaxed. First she could only hear the waves. Then a low melody could be heard, just above the sound of the sea. Lights appeared at the far end of the city, where the cliffs and forest separated Nor Esen from Baris Abbey. The chant grew louder. Moments later, an assembly with lanterns emerged from the forest. Selene could not see each individual, but she knew who they were. The monks from Baris Abbey.
Their voices rose and fell as they approached the city, their lanterns appearing like tiny fireflies from her spot on the balcony.
As they entered the gates, the torches along the wall were lit. The monks began their trek through the city. Each time they passed a house, the candles were relit. A bell was rung, then they started their chant again.
Selene watched, her gaze on the lanterns, her ears full of the voices of the monks. They spoke of the darkness, and the light that came when all was lost. A light that spread across the lands. A light that darkness could not extinguish.
The words seemed to seep into her very soul, touching the deepest parts of her being, filling her to the brim, until her only reality was the lights reappearing across the city and the story the monks told through their chant.
“It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” Damien said quietly.
Selene took a deep breath, realizing cold tears had slipped down her cheeks. “Yes,” she said as she quickly wiped her face. For a moment, she thought she would break down and sob right there. Instead, she bit her lip and clutched her hand to her chest.
Nor Esen twinkled again with the light of thousands of candles and torches. It was like the city had died for a moment, then come back to life.
“Every year we remember the Light during the darkest day. We were not left in darkness, to flounder about in this life. Instead, humankind was given hope.” He squeezed her hand. “We have hope, even with the threat of the empire.”
“Does that mean we will win?”
“No. Sometimes we lose, for reasons I don’t understand. But he does.”
“The Light?”
“Yes.”
“Then why trust him?”
“Why indeed?” He chuckled. “I’ll be honest. I’ve asked myself that before, especially when my parents and Quinn passed away. But there is this anchor inside of me, this knowledge that even though I cannot understand the reason why, I know the darkness will not prevail. The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness can never extinguish it.”
Selene frowned in thought. Those words were familiar. She’d read them a while ago from a small book Cohen had let her borrow from the abbey. But before she could ask more questions, a bell rang as the monks reached the gates that led into Northwind Castle. Within seconds, lights filled the castle, and the monks changed their chant to a song as they entered the courtyard. Across the castle and city, others joined the song, until the chorus of thousands of voices rang out across the night.
Damien began to sing beside her, his tenor voice blending in with the others. Once again, a familiar lump filled her throat as she listened to her husband sing with his people. Deep down she wished she could be a part of this, but she still felt like a stranger, a foreigner from a very different world. Welcome, but still separate.
It was not because of Damien or the people of the Northern Shores, but because of her. Every night reminded her of this as she walked the dreamscape, searching. Always searching. She was Lady Selene Ravenwood, heir to the House of Dreamers, and she always would be.
The last note faded into the night, then the city broke out in shouts, laughter, and excitement. Damien squeezed her hand again before giving her a quick kiss on the cheek. “Now it’s time to celebrate the Festival of Light. Follow me.”
Selene nodded and let him guide her back into Northwind Castle, her mind and body a storm of emotions.
She removed the hood of her gown once they were inside the throne room, freeing her long black hair to fall across her shoulders and down her back. She caught Damien watching her from the corner of his eye, and it made her grow warm all over.
“I don’t think I told you how stunning you look this evening,” he said as he pulled her closer to his side.
“Thank you.”
“And I’m glad you left your hair down. I like it that way.”
Selene brushed the side of her face with her hand, the warmth spreading again.
At the bottom of the stairs, they followed the stone path that led between the pillars and streams of water to the audience hall.
Taegis greeted them in the corridor. “My lord. My lady.” He dipped his head in their direction. His hair hung along his shoulders instead of gathered at the nape of his neck like usual. And in place of his simple tunic and leather jerkin he wore a strikingly embroidered surcoat in the colors of House Maris.
“Join us, Taegis. We were just heading to the dining hall for the feast.”
His head came up. “Thank you.” Taegis walked on the other side of Selene as the three of them headed toward the other side of the castle. “What do you think of the Festival of Light so far, Lady Selene?”
She smiled back. “I’ve never experienced anything so wonderful before. The way the city looked and the chant from the monks was mesmerizing. I had no idea winter could hold such a celebration. We observe the spring Festival of Flowers, but it’s nothing like this.” She wasn’t about to mention the new moon worship. She didn’t want shadows of the Dark Lady haunting her thoughts this evening.
“The Festival of Light has been around as long as Baris Abbey. The first abbot wrote the chant they sung this evening thousands of years ago, even before House Maris ruled the Northern Shores.”
“Amazing,” Selene murmured. Did Rook Castle or the Magyr Mountains hold such history? She only knew as far back as Rabanna and the imperial razing, but nothing earlier. But there had to be more. House Ravenwood had existed as long as the other Great Houses. Even with all her research, she still had not been able to find the rest of their history.
They reached the formal dining hall. Taegis opened the door and ushered Damien and Selene inside. The hall was exquisitely decorated for the festival. Thick candles were set in glass tubes along the wide table, surrounded by pine branches and small red berries. Plates trimmed in silver sat before each chair, alongside matching goblets and two-pronged forks. Dipping bowls were ready for finger washing, and the servants were already pouring the wine.
Voices filled the hall as members from lesser houses, wealthy sea merchants, and those of importance entered the dining hall, including Healer Sildaern, whom Selene hadn’t seen since her arrival a
t Northwind Castle. His long black hair hung around his shoulders, and he wore deep green robes trimmed in silver, the colors of House Rafel. He glanced at Selene with a curious expression before turning away.
Selene frowned as Damien pulled out the chair to the right of his. As she sat down, his fingers brushed her shoulders, then he pushed the chair back in. Taegis took a seat on Damien’s left. Damien settled in between them and gazed around the room, nodding and smiling.
Food was brought in minutes later: tureens of cream soup, platters of meat, including venison and poultry, and various dishes of fish and seafood. Roasted root vegetables were served along with dried fruits baked in puddings. Bread was provided to mop up the extra broth and sauce. Wine and honeyed mead was poured into common goblets set around the dining hall.
Conversation filled the air as those gathered washed their fingers and began to fill their plates. Selene helped herself to a small portion of fish and vegetables but found even with the array of tantalizing dishes and atmosphere of merriment, she wasn’t hungry. Instead, her entire being was focused on Damien beside her. She listened to the words he spoke, noticed every smile he gave, and felt the strange warble of her heart when his eyes captured hers.
She took a sip from the goblet between them and appreciated the smooth, sweet taste of the honeyed mead but was careful not to drink too much. She had no desire to lose her sense of judgment, one of the many lessons her mother had drilled into her from her training, and one to which she still adhered. A dreamer must always be in her right mind.
“You’ve barely eaten. Are you all right?”
Selene stared once again into his deep blue eyes and felt a whoosh inside her middle. “Yes. I’m afraid I’m not that hungry tonight.”
He raised an eyebrow. “Can I get you something else?”
“No, but thank you.”
He gave her a smile before turning to Taegis and starting a conversation. Selene continued to take small bites of her fish, interspersed with light talk with the stout older woman who sat next to her, a Lady Morvand. However, whenever there was a pause, her gaze would return to Damien.
She remembered their time that morning, how he had shared his special spot and heart with her as his festival gift. She still had so many questions, but seeing his faith had answered some of them. His words were like his soul: beautiful.
And she hadn’t given him anything in return.
If she were at Rook Castle, maybe she could have had a sword commissioned by the weaponsmith or searched over the wares brought in by traveling merchants. She couldn’t embroider, so a handkerchief was out of the question. Same with a painting. She couldn’t cook or sew.
She mentally shook her head. Those gifts weren’t from the heart, anyway. And he’d said he didn’t need a gift, but she wanted to give something back to him. Something as special as he had given her—
Selene paused, her fork hovering over the last bite of fish. Her heart began to beat faster, and her mouth grew dry. Only days ago she’d looked in the mirror and told herself she wanted to make this marriage work. There was one thing she could give him. One thing only she could offer.
Heat crept up her cheeks, and the hair along her arms rose. He said he would never do anything without asking. Did she really want to wait for that? She glanced at Damien from the corner of her eye. He was laughing at something Taegis had said. The way he smiled lit up his entire face and showed such joy. How could she not love a man like him?
Her heart pounded at the thought, and her palms grew sweaty. There was a mixture of trepidation and anticipation circling inside of her. Did every woman experience these contrary feelings? She reached for the closest goblet—
Damien’s hand stretched out at the same moment and their fingers met. He grinned, his fingers still touching hers. “We need to stop meeting this way.”
That one touch sent every nerve flying. Her lips twitched while her heart hammered even harder inside her chest. “Perhaps I would say we need two goblets, but I don’t mind sharing,”
Damien chuckled, then pushed the goblet toward her. “Ladies first.”
Her throat was so tight she wasn’t sure if she would get the liquid down. She breathed in, forcing a trained calmness across her body, and took a sip. She raised her eyes and found Damien studying her, the lightness from moments earlier gone, replaced with an intensity. She stared back, pulled into his gaze until the liquid began to burn at the back of her throat, forcing her to swallow.
After taking another drink, she handed him the cup, then spotted a couple across the table watching them with knowing smiles. Her cheeks flushed as she glanced away, but she couldn’t hide her own smile.
A half hour later, Damien stood and thanked those present for coming. Everyone else stood and bowed toward Damien. Selene dropped her lap cloth and stood as well.
“Would you like to stay for a bit?” he asked her as half of the room sat down, while the other half mingled or headed for the doorway.
“No, I’m ready to leave.”
He held out his arm. “Then let me escort you back to your room.”
Selene took his arm, her senses swimming with his essence, smell, and presence as he led her out into the hall. It felt like she was about to open a new chapter in the book of their lives, and she looked forward to the days ahead with eager expectation.
Damien stopped beside her door and turned toward her. His face glowed in the candlelight, his lips slightly parted, his eyes dark and full. “May I kiss you good night?” he said quietly.
Selene took a moment to compose the sudden rush of emotions inside her by slowly placing her hands on his chest. Then she looked into his eyes. “Yes.”
He leaned forward and brushed his lips across hers. But that wasn’t enough for her. She reached up and pulled him closer, deepening the kiss.
Damien followed her lead and wrapped one arm around her waist, running his fingers through her hair with his other. The feeling stirred her.
He finally pulled away, his breathing heavy, and placed a hand on her cheek. “I don’t want to say good night.”
“Then don’t.”
He halted, a frown across his lips. “What do you mean?”
Her heart beat rapidly inside her chest but she pushed on. “I don’t want to leave either. I want to be with you tonight.”
He pulled back and studied her face. “Are you saying . . . ?”
She nodded. Adrenaline, not unlike a fight, sped through her veins.
His thumb began to stroke her cheek. “Selene, are you sure?”
“Yes. I want this marriage. When we first bonded, it was a marriage of circumstances. Since then, I’ve changed. I want it to be more.” She pressed her hand against his chest. “This is my gift to you. My heart.”
His thumb stopped. His gaze moved along her face, sending another wave of adrenaline and heat through her body. “I told you I don’t need a gift, and I don’t want you to feel obligated—”
She pressed a finger to his lips. “This is what I want. And this is what I want to give to you. Will you accept it?”
She could feel his breath across her finger as he stood silently before her. Then he lifted his own hand and removed her finger, leaned forward, and kissed her again.
This time he did not hold back. He kissed her more thoroughly than he ever had before, and she rose to meet his passion. His smell, his touch, his taste filled her.
Then he pulled back once more, his fingers still entwined in her hair. “I said I would never do anything without asking you first. So, one last time, are you sure?”
A light smile graced her lips. This was the right choice, the right time. The man she loved. “Yes.”
His eyes seemed to grow more intense as he reached past her to the left, and a moment later, the door opened to his own room. The corners of his lips turned upward in a mischievous smile. He bent his head toward hers. “I’m glad I don’t have to say good night,” he whispered before sweeping her up into his arms and walking inside.
29
Everything was warm and hazy as Damien awoke. He looked over at Selene next to him and studied her in the morning light. She was still asleep, her body rising and falling with each breath as she lay curled on her side. Her hair was scattered across the pillow and bed in long black strands. He reached over and felt a lock between his fingers, then spotted a bluish mark beneath her hair along her back.
He moved onto his side and gently moved her hair away. His eyebrows rose. Along her back, right near the shoulder blades, were bluish-grey wings spreading from her spine, like a bird’s.
Amazing.
His finger trailed one of the wings.
Selene gave a start and sat up. She glanced over her shoulder at him, then her face blossomed into the deepest red as she reached for the coverlet.
“Is this your mark?” he said.
She nodded, her eyes wide as she stared back at him.
He pushed up on an elbow and brushed her back again with his fingertip. “It’s beautiful. Like two wings across your back.” His gaze moved from her back to her face, then he reached over and brushed her hair from her shoulder.
Her eyes trailed down his chest, stopping at his upper hip. “Is that yours?”
He glanced down at the familiar mark. “Yes. Three waves for House Maris.”
She hesitated, then reached over and lightly brushed his skin. His muscles tightened under her touch. “So different than mine,” she murmured. “When did your gift appear?”
Damien lay back down, his hands behind his head, remembering the day when his gift came. It had rained all day and night and into the next day. “When I passed sixteen harvests.”
“So young.”
He glanced at her. “Really? How old were you when your gift came?”
“Eighteen winters.”
Flight of the Raven Page 23