by K. A. Linde
Cyrene’s cheeks heated, and she smiled. She couldn’t disagree. From day one, she had believed the Queen was wasting her talent.
“Thank you, Daufina.”
“It’s a shame that Kaliana lost the baby, or else she might care less about Edric’s affections,” Daufina said offhand.
Cyrene startled forward. The glass she was holding jarred and splashed wine onto the deck. “What?”
Daufina assessed her. “Have you not heard?”
“No,” Cyrene whispered.
Suddenly, Edric’s words the first night came back to her. “A queen who does not fulfill her duties is no queen at all.”
The Queen had failed to produce a Dremylon heir. Is that the duty he spoke of? Is that the reason she had been ill and infuriated the day when I went to ask her to leave?
Despite it all, jealousy hit her in the stomach. Edric had his Queen. He belonged to her so long as he needed an heir to secure his line on the throne.
But Cyrene didn’t want to have those thoughts or at least, she told herself she didn’t want them. They led to a slew of concerns that she couldn’t do anything about. It only frustrated her more.
“If you’ll excuse me,” she whispered.
“Cyrene, I didn’t mean to upset you,” Daufina said.
“I’m just going to check on Maelia.”
“Shall I tell Edric you will see him tonight?”
Cyrene swallowed. Oh, how I want to get lost with him on our last day on the procession. When would I get the chance to hold his undivided attention again?
But she couldn’t. Not with the reminder of the Queen hanging over her head.
“No. I’m going to bed early. I need my rest before we get to Albion.”
Daufina sighed and nodded. If anyone knew the war raging within Cyrene, it was Daufina.
Cyrene left the deck and stopped in front of Maelia’s room. She knocked once, and Eren opened the door.
“How is she feeling?”
“Today is the best day so far,” he said. The day before, Eren had told Cyrene that this was one of the worst bouts of seasickness he had ever seen. “Though she hasn’t been able to eat that much. Perhaps you could persuade her to try.”
“Thank you so much for your patience and attention.”
“Of course. I would help anyone under such poor conditions.”
Cyrene smiled, certain that he was being extra thorough because he liked Maelia. She passed him and stepped into the cramped quarters, taking a seat in the chair next to Maelia’s bed. She heard the door click shut when Eren left.
“How are you feeling? Eren said you’re not eating.”
Maelia was beyond pale, but she sat up. “What have you been doing with the King?” she demanded.
“Spending time with him.”
“That’s quite obvious.” She folded her hands in her lap. “The entire ship is buzzing about you two. Even as sick as I am, I have heard the maids discussing it. Do you wish to draw this much attention to yourself? How do you expect us to do anything with the King falling all over himself because of you?” Her eyes were stern.
Cyrene winced at her harsh yet true words. “Is he falling all over himself?”
“Cyrene! That is not the point!” Maelia snapped.
She actually snapped.
“It was only in jest.”
“Do not forget what we are risking. Just imagine how much more you would be risking if the King catches us,” she said. Then she sighed heavily. “I’m just worried. Tell me I don’t need to.”
“You don’t need to worry.”
It felt like a lie.
The next morning, Cyrene shot out of bed and hastened up the steps onto the deck. Her feet skidded across the planks until she was at the railing with her mouth agape. Still leagues ahead of them—glistening, pale, and gorgeous in the morning sunrise—stood Albion, the White City.
She had never dreamed Albion would be so breathtaking. Krisana, the central palace, had been constructed to be seen from nearly anywhere in the city as it sat high above the surrounding buildings. Rumors suggested seashells that had been laboriously crushed, molded, and reconstructed into a smooth, flawless matte surface constituted the entirety of the castle. The sectioned off neighborhoods within the city walls called Vedas that were built around the castle were whitewashed in the same fashion, but none gleamed quite as gloriously as the palace or stayed as perfectly white. The city branched out into a maze of roads and crossroads of white flattop houses and shops. From a distance, it gave the illusion that the city was one white dot on the surface of the Earth.
Their ship rounded the last great bend of the Keylani River leading into Albion and revealed the Lakonia Ocean in all its expansive beauty. Cyrene had never seen the ocean, and a knot formed in her throat at the sight. It was truly an experience that could not be equated with anything else. She had lived her life in the Taken Mountains, believing them to be the most magnificent and imposing thing in existence, and then the Lakonia Ocean shattered every preconception she had ever had.
“It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” Daufina asked, coming up behind Cyrene.
Cyrene startled, not having heard her approach. “Stunning.”
“You would think it wouldn’t be as beautiful returning to a place you lived for seventeen years, but it gets more and more so each time I return.”
“You grew up in Albion?”
“You can’t see my parents’ house from here, but it is in one of the oldest of the Vedas surrounding Krisana.”
“Were your parents in the inner circle?”
Daufina gave her a secretive smile, as if the question was controversial.
“Sorry. I don’t mean to pry.”
“No, it’s nothing. Just old scandal.” Somehow, she managed to look gloriously regal, even with her dismissive hand motion. “My father was in the High Order, and my mother was working as a seamstress’s apprentice in the Third Class when they met. He was supposed to marry an Affiliate, but they wed. After my grandfather passed, my father left court to return to Albion to take control of the Birket House.”
“Sounds like a hopeless romantic.”
Daufina laughed. “That is my father. Probably the truest reason he was placed in the High Order.”
Cyrene wasn’t sure how that made any sense since it was all based on one’s education and what was best for the person and society. There was something about the whole ceremony that was beyond comprehension. It certainly made little sense to her why someone like Jardana had been raised to be an Affiliate. If anyone had deserved it, it was Rhea.
At the thought of her best friend, Cyrene’s excitement returned in full force. She would soon be reunited with Rhea, and she couldn’t wait to see her. A pang hit her heart at the weight of her absence.
“Come along. We’ll be there shortly.” Daufina paced the length of the deck and took a seat at a small table.
Cyrene sat across from her, staring at the White City as they approached.
Edric appeared shortly after, freshly shaven and already in his finest outfit. He smiled brightly at the two women.
“Fine day to arrive in Albion. Not a cloud in the sky.”
Breakfast along with morning tea was placed before them. Cyrene was too anxious about their arrival to engage Edric and Daufina in conversation. Her mind was elsewhere—on the city and what she would be doing once she got there.
Maelia finally made it to the deck at the end of breakfast. Her complexion was still pale, but Cyrene was just happy to see her on her two feet.
The girls went to the railing to watch as the procession ships maneuvered into the dock. Edric and Daufina joined them, smiling down at the small entourage waiting on the dock.
Cyrene observed their welcome party. Besides the guards stationed around the docks, only fifteen in total greeted them. It was a far cry from the hundreds waving their farewell earlier that week.
As they stood on the deck, Edric brushed against her arm, and his fingers slid on top o
f hers. Her heart sped up a million miles a minute. She was met with a quick glance of blue-gray, and she saw a mix of emotions wash over his face.
She tucked her hand under the railing, and he laced their fingers together.
He leaned in closer, whispering so that only she could hear, “I wish we could stay.”
“You’re the king,” she reminded him.
He could make them stay if he wanted.
Edric extracted his hand and nodded grimly. His lips were set in a straight line. “Yes, I remember.”
Cyrene swallowed. She hadn’t meant to push him away, but this ship had been a dream, and they were about to walk the plank back to reality.
The boat shuddered to a stop. Edric walked forward with Daufina following close behind him. He didn’t look back once. Cyrene told herself it was for the better in the long run. He knew that nothing could happen. After she spent a minute trying to convince herself of that, she trailed them to the gangway.
Cyrene landed on firm ground again. Maelia stepped off after her, clutching her arm, as she seemed to rock back and forth a few times. Cyrene reassuringly squeezed her arm, and then they caught up to the rest of the group.
“Cousin”—Edric grasped the forearm of the burly man with a full-grown beard and a round belly at the lead of the party—“it has been too long.”
“King Edric, you bless our family with your gracious ruling. May your honor forever shine upon Byern.”
Edric chortled, bringing the man into his chest for a hug. “Come, Duke Halston of Albion. Let’s make peace together over this fine day in the White City.”
Cyrene glanced over the shoulder of Daufina and stared at Duke Halston. She knew about him and his brother, Duke Wynn of Levin. They were the sons of Edric’s aunt, Princess Saldana, and Duke Reagles.
Cyrene remembered her parents speaking about how if King Maltrier had died without an heir, then their father, King Herold, had wanted to ensure a Dremylon still ruled, and the alliance had formed. They carried Dremylon blood but weren’t in contention for the throne as long as there was a Dremylon son in line.
For the first time, she truly understood Edric’s fear about the Queen’s miscarriages. She buried her dark thoughts and focused on the matter at hand.
A plump woman in a lavender gown stepped forward. She had a genuine bubbly smile, joyful round face, and a good-natured bounce in her step. “Consort Daufina.” She bobbed a short curtsy. “I have deeply missed your presence in the court at Albion. It is a great honor to see you back in the White City and looking as ravishing as ever.”
“Duchess Elida, it is always a pleasure to be in your company. I look perfectly ordinary next to you in full bloom.” Daufina touched her belly. “Not much longer I believe. A month or two?”
“Two!” she squeaked, proudly putting her hands under her belly.
“Wonderful! I do hope the King and I can make a trip down through the rainy season to greet your new boy,” Daufina said, paying her the highest compliment.
“One can only hope.” She practically bounced up and down.
Daufina introduced Cyrene, Maelia, and the other Affiliate Neila, who had just walked onto the dock. Duchess Elida welcomed them to her home and introduced an Affiliate of her own, Karra, a tan woman with dark features and a pleasant demeanor similar to the Duchess.
Duchess Elida linked arms with Daufina and walked them toward the waiting carriages. “Come along. Can’t keep the men waiting now, can we?”
The carriages were large white spectacles, big enough to comfortably fit six. Enormous all-white horses standing nearly seven feet tall with extensive feathering on their lower legs drew the carriages. While used to the guard steeds, Cyrene had never seen ones of this size look quite as elegant or as snowy white.
The horses took off, bustling the women through the city, followed by the remainder of the people who had been on board the King’s ship. The horses, luggage, and additional items that the court would need while traveling would follow them up to the castle shortly afterward.
Albion’s streets were narrower than Byern’s and packed with city folk calling out to the carriages as they passed. Merchants and peddlers flocked to the crowds, trying to sell their wares.
As they neared the Krisana castle, her eyes remained trained on the crowds, and her smile was bright on her face. Children tossed flowers at their carriage. Others danced and laughed in the streets. Girls wore flowered crowns on their heads and waved ribbons in the air. A few of the boys jabbed at each other with wooden swords. This procession welcome was a merry place with cheerful music.
A chill ran up her spine, and her eyes cast around her surroundings to figure out where the uneasy feeling was coming from. She distinctly felt like she was being watched. But how would I know when there are hundreds of eyes on me?
Cyrene’s gaze drifted to a man standing among the onlookers. With a plain brown cloak, a matching rumpled shirt, and large brimmed hat, he was much taller than the women and children around him. Unlike everyone else, he wasn’t smiling. Maybe it was just the severity of him that had chilled her…
As he faded from view, Cyrene shrugged it aside. She didn’t even know why she had noticed him or why she was thinking such grim thoughts.
They passed through the final bend of the city and reached the great white gates that allowed them entry to the inner gardens of Krisana.
Up close, the castle rivaled Nit Decus, the Byern castle, in size and grandeur. Without the mountain obscuring its immense depths, the castle seemed endlessly tall with hundreds of balconies shooting from round-topped spires.
Their carriage traveled over a wooden drawbridge. Krisana had seen more battles than any other Byern city in history and had never fallen. The white exterior was reinforced with a strong fortification that had never yielded to an enemy. The entire city could crumble, and Krisana would continue to stand regally.
The carriage carted them around a circular travel-worn entranceway and stopped before mother-of-pearl double doors. They glistened and shined in the afternoon sun in such a gorgeous fashion that perfectly fitted the castle’s namesake. Krisana was the ancient word for pearl.
A man immediately appeared to help them out of the carriage. Cyrene took his hand and followed behind Maelia onto the grounds of the White Castle.
The double doors to the castle opened, and the whole party moved through the inner foyer that had a mile-high round ceiling with intricate mother-of-pearl molding, arched trellises, and a rug with baby-blue, cream, and gold colors running the length of the room. The royal throne room was at the end of the hallway and matched the foyer in construction. Interchanging white and mother-of-pearl tiles were visible on the floor throughout the room, and several glass murals of the ocean cast natural light into the center of the room. The focal point rested on the five chairs set on a pedestal, all ornate and all draped in Dremylon green.
“As Regent of Albion,” Duke Halston said, standing inside the throne room, “I happily present to you, King Edric, the great throne of Byern set forth in the White City.”
“Much thanks, Duke Halston,” Edric replied. “I trust that the city has been successful in the hands of my kin, and I will be happy for you to continue as Regent when I return to the capital.”
“It is an honor.” Duke Halston bowed at the waist.
“Now, this matter you mentioned in the carriage—” Edric began.
“Terrible thing.” Duke Halston swallowed hard, his Adam’s apple bobbing visibly in his throat. “I almost fear suggesting it in front of the women.”
Daufina raised an eyebrow at Duke Halston, and the remaining women all looked shocked at his impropriety. To think that a woman would be any less capable of handling whatever terrible matter the Duke was about to describe than a man was outrageous. They might as well regress their society and break down the Affiliate program entirely. What is the point of having a consort as an advisor to the king if she wasn’t as capable as any man?
Duchess Elida popped h
er hand against the Duke’s arm. “Halston!” she said shrilly. She shot him a disapproving look.
“No offense meant, Consort.” He had the decency to look sheepish.
“Daufina presides over all matters of state,” Edric said.
“Yes, well, I meant no harm. It’s just—”
“First things first, Halston,” Daufina cut him off, holding up her hand. “I believe we should excuse some of our audience before speaking about these matters.”
“Of course, Consort.” He bobbed his head. Even as Regent of Albion, cousin to the King, and a duke, his position rested below the Consort.
The room emptied of servants, and Halston ushered out the Albion court. As everyone was leaving, Queen Kaliana strode into the room with Jardana and Catalin close on her heels. Her eyes immediately settled on Edric, and Cyrene did everything in her power to remain calm and not panic. The Queen couldn’t know what had happened on the procession ship.
Then, Edric glanced up and met Cyrene’s gaze. They both smiled, as if sharing a secret. It was only for a second, but it was enough.
Queen Kaliana shot daggers at her. Any chance that she didn’t know something had gone on between them slipped away.
“What is going on in here?” Queen Kaliana asked.
“Duke Halston has brought forward some news,” Edric said. “There have been two more deaths here in Albion.”
The room fell silent at the proclamation. Two more deaths? How can this be? Cyrene had thought that they had left the killer behind in Byern.
“Two more?” Daufina asked. “Who?”
“High Order Grabel and Affiliate Pallia,” Halston said.
“Don’t you think we should only speak about such matters in front of members of the inner circle?” Queen Kaliana asked sharply. She turned her eyes to Cyrene.
“I believe we are among the inner circle,” Edric countered. He ignored her rebuff and turned his attention away from her. “Back to the matter at hand. We cannot ignore what has happened. Zorian, Leslin, and now, Grabel and Pallia. It doesn’t seem coincidental.”
“I knew Pallia,” Daufina said. “She was as skilled with a sword as any man.”