“Perhaps you are missing the fact that I left because I recognized the importance of his duties in Tanispa,” she sighed in defeat. “I could not let myself become the same evil creature you and Thade claimed women to be during the war. He told me then that I would turn into that one day, but I never intended… I never thought I would do that to him.”
Feolan took her uninjured hand in his, pressing the parchment against her palm. “It’s the ones who do not purposely use their charms that are the most dangerous. I must admit, your charms nearly reeled me in as well, at one time. Knowing what I know now, had it been Thade who kissed you that day at Malic’s, things would have been much different.”
Blinking in disbelief, Leyna snapped a glance at Feolan. “I am confused. How did I nearly reel you in? Your words do not make sense.”
“Oh, Leyna,” he chuckled, shaking his head. “You are a beautiful woman. I knew the night I saw you at the masque that Thade was in trouble. I was swept up in the surprise at seeing you – the way you had changed, and grown – it is surprising that a young man like him was able to hold his feelings back for so long. And you know,” the soft chortle grew into an awkward laugh. “When you and Zander left that first night, he let it be known he was not pleased that I had kissed you. I knew then to give up any foolish ideas.”
“That explains a lot, I suppose. Maeri came to me and asked about the two of us. Whether or not there was anything between us. It seemed so strange at the time, but I assured her there was nothing. I am sorry if I caused you any trouble. I had no idea…”
Feolan motioned for her to stop. “I love my wife. Nothing I felt toward you was ever more than fleeting. Do not fear that there was ever any awkwardness to it. Once we left Tanispa from the masque, my head cleared, and I was reminded of who you were. You and Thade have always been like my own adopted children. It is trivial and unimportant now.” He tapped the parchment in her hand curiously. “This letter comes from Queen Vorsila. You may want to open it.”
Distracted by the talk of Thade, the envelope had slipped her mind. She made her way over to the crooked desk, prying gently at the wax, afraid of damaging the letter. It was tedious work, but finally the edge pulled away and she drew the folds back. While she read over the elegant calligraphy script, she felt something sting at her shoulder, wincing in pain, to find Feolan standing behind her with a bloody shard of glass in his hand.
“You will need stitches, I believe.”
“I am too busy for that,” Leyna frowned. She waved dismissively at him. It was too much to take in at once. First the night with Thade, then Kael’s attack, Feolan’s lectures, and now this. Queen Vorsila requested her presence in Tanispa? What could she possibly want with her?
Fear threatened to send her into a panic at the possibilities which came to mind. Did she blame her for Enaes’s death? But it wasn’t her fault. She knew that. Thade had been the one to relay the news to the Queen. He wouldn’t have placed any blame on her, would he? And worse, with her actions of the past night, what if Vorsila found out about what Leyna had done? Would she be held accountable? Tried for treason the way Feolan spoke? With a grimace she closed the parchment, rising from the desk in a stiff motion, favoring her injured leg. She had no choice but to go and face whatever consequences there were. The Queen had summoned her. To refuse would only make things worse.
“When first I left this morning, my intentions were to find my way to Carpaen. It would seem the gods are diverting my path north.”
Feolan gazed at her, the solemn expression steady on his face. “Carpaen?”
“I am worthless here in Siscal,” Leyna frowned. “As a member of court, military service under Queen Nesperiti’s army would be difficult to achieve. And though Zander chose to enlist under the General in Tanispa, I could not very well go to the same country where Thade will be. It would only cause more trouble. Carpaen seemed the most likely place to settle. The Emperor’s Steward is an old friend of mine. He could have been called upon to assist in placing me among the ranks there to fight against our enemies. Now, even more than before, I have no choice but to leave Siscal. Kael knows where I stay and he will tell Kyros. He claims Damir wants me brought to him. This tells me that the attack this morning, while unexpected, only foreshadows more to come.”
“I wish there was something I could say which might change your mind, but I know well enough that it would be useless to try.” Feolan shook his head, motioning for Leyna to sit. Taking his direction she lowered herself onto the chair once again, allowing him to inspect the cut on her shoulder. “If you insist on leaving this instant to meet with the Queen, at least allow me to stitch your wounds and see that you are properly tended. Your hand will infect quickly if we do not at least get it cleaned. I will have you know, however, that I am not keen on letting you make the journey alone. At least allow a guard to accompany you.”
Leyna chuckled miserably to herself. She was tired of guards. Tired of being watched over like a child. How would it look to Queen Vorsila if she arrived in Tanispa with someone looking over her shoulder? Appearances were too important among her own people. And Leyna was far too proud to allow the Queen to think her weak. “I will concede to your assistance with the wounds, but as for accompaniment, I must decline,” she stated calmly. Her mind was made up. Nothing Feolan could argue would make her consider differently. “Kael and Oran were on their way to meet Kyros, from what I understood. They will be distracted for now. By the time they are even aware of my having left Siscal, I will already be across the Tanispan border.”
“Very well,” Feolan nodded. “We must hurry to my home to gather the things I need to tend your injuries. Maeri will want to see you as well. All I ask is that you promise to be careful, Leyna. The threat of war is all around us. No country is safe. Especially for you.”
“Trust me, I know. I have considered it already and will be on my guard,” she smiled. It was the smallest gesture she could think of to provide any comfort to Feolan. He would worry about her no matter what she said and guarantees of safety were impossible to offer. Fear clutched tightly around her heart but she had to push through it. She couldn’t let her emotions ruin her chances at defeating Damir. Next time they attacked, she would be ready for them. And Kael wouldn’t get away so easily.
Chapter Twenty-Five
It felt strange to be back in Tanispa. Years had passed since the last time she saw Sivaeria, the countryside bringing back memories of her days with Faustine. She slowed her pace as she rode her horse into the courtyard of the palace, not wanting to set off the guards, knowing they would be on alert for an attack. One couldn’t be too cautious when it came to the Queen.
A taller Vor’shai man in a military fashion doublet stood near the entry gate, the deep burnt umber glow from his eyes watching Leyna curiously as she passed. With every step her horse took toward the palace doors, he moved in closer, following her, his movements like those of a large stalking mountain cat. She could see him approaching out of the corner of her eye. Not wanting to create a scene, she brought the horse to a halt, dismounting carefully to avoid tearing her skirt.
“What is your business here, miss?” As he came nearer, his eyes scanned every part of her. He was looking for weapons. She could tell by the way his gaze lingered where knives and swords might possibly be concealed, nodding in approval to find her noticeably unarmed.
She dipped into a formal curtsy before him, favoring the tired and aching leg which had grown stiff and sore from the long ride. “My name is Leyna Evantine. I come on request of Queen Vorsila. In the satchel on my horse you will find the letter with Her Majesty’s seal, if validation of my word is required.”
Upon hearing her name, the man stepped in closer, his gaze more scrutinizing than before. It was an uncomfortable feeling. He presented himself with an air of nobility and power, though the sword at his side – and the dagger hidden in a small sheath around his boot – looked more like a fighter. Military perhaps. Of very high rank, judging by the exquisit
e detail of the scabbard on his hip. The gemstones adorning it glittered in the sunlight, matching the red lining of his doublet.
The doublet resembled that which Thade had worn the day he came to Siscal to say his goodbyes. But she couldn’t think about him right now. Blood already started to flush a pink hue into her cheeks.
“The Leyna Evantine, hmm? From the stories I have heard, I always pictured you to be… sturdier.”
“Sturdier – Sir?”
“Much larger than you are,” he nodded with a smirk. “How ever did a frail feminine figure like yours survive three poisoned arrows?”
“Do not let my appearance fool you, sir. I may be slight, but my will is strong. You might be amazed at what that can do for a person when the impossible is put before them.”
He held her steady gaze in silence for a moment before giving one last approving nod. Stepping back, he pressed his right hand over his abdomen, bowing to her respectfully. “General Cadell of the Queen’s Royal Army. I was beginning to think Leyna Evantine was a myth, after all these years of elusion. It is an honor to make your acquaintance.” With a sharp snap of his fingers he signaled for Leyna to rise. “I will announce your arrival to Her Majesty.”
As she stood up, she was aware of the other guards around the grounds eyeing her curiously. There weren’t quite so many men stationed around the gates when she last visited. It was like a small military fort between where she stood and the road.
Keeping up with Cadell’s long, fluid strides proved a difficult task for Leyna’s hindered gait. Occasionally he would come to a stop, never looking back at her, merely waiting for the sound of her footsteps to grow closer before resuming his march forward.
Following the General inside, Leyna noticed the palace halls to be devoid of the crowds that had clogged them the night of the masque. Only a few courtiers wandered about, lost in their own affairs, oblivious to Leyna as she limped through the high-arched front doors and into the brilliantly lit foyer. The vaulted ceiling loomed elegantly overhead with its extravagant chandeliers.
Outside a massive gilded door, Cadell motioned for her to wait, disappearing inside. Her heart was racing, almost painfully, unsure of what to expect when he returned, afraid of being instantly grappled by strong arms, and dragged off to a cell in the darkest and dankest prison.
Time dragged by in the silence of the empty hallway. Nervously Leyna fidgeted, nibbling on her lower lip, fingers clenching and unclenching. By the time Cadell reappeared, she had worked herself into a panic, nearly fainting in fear of his possible impending assault. She closed her eyes, bracing herself.
Cadell was a very intimidating man. It was no wonder he was in charge of arguably the greatest military in the world. Every strand of his long brown hair was perfectly held in place, showing off his sharp features and distinctly pointed ears. His muscles were well-defined even while concealed under the flattering shape of his doublet, broad shouldered; well-built for a man of their race, which tended to be more slender than most. His outward appearance, even at peace, screamed power to everyone around him. She was afraid to see what he was like on the battlefield.
The sound of his footsteps came to a stop in front of her. He said nothing. At his lack of communication, she forced herself to open her eyes, finding him staring at her, amused. “You look as though you expect to be maimed.”
“If you only knew the week I have had…” Embarrassed, she shook her head, deciding against speaking any further. She was more curious about what he had to say of Queen Vorsila’s decision to meet with her. The letter had not specified a time. Given the Queen’s busy schedule, Leyna feared the meeting would be put off until another day.
“Well, it would seem your luck has changed,” he said. His tone perpetually sounded vaguely sarcastic, yet deep and monotone. With another snap of his fingers he motioned for Leyna to move. Like some animal trained to obey the gesture, Leyna followed at his heels through the imposing door. She struggled to conceal her limp. It would never do to let them see her injury if she had any hope of convincing them to let her join the military there.
Queen Vorsila’s proud form at the head of the room took Leyna’s breath away. Just as she’d been at the masque those years ago, power radiated from her, even at this distance, though no mask shielded her regal features from view this time. Her lips were painted a deep shade of red, a dramatic effect against the pale, flawless white of her skin. The silver in her eyes shone like diamonds from her doll-like face, giving the appearance of a porcelain statue, erect, waiting, vigilant for whatever might cross her path. She was dressed in a heavy gown of black damask fabric hanging in delicate folds to the floor from her slender waist. The black pearls adorning her nearly translucent complexion told Leyna that she was still dressed in her mourning attire, a rim of redness visible along the edge of her eyes as Leyna approached.
Respectfully, Leyna lowered herself to the ground in a deep curtsy, her eyes diverted away from Vorsila’s.
“Your Majesty, I present to you the Lady Leyna Evantine.” Cadell’s voice was surreal to Leyna, speaking her name with such authority, as if she were of some great significance. It made her want to laugh out of pity for herself, though her nerves prevented it.
“So this is the woman I hear so much about? You are quite right, General. Much more petite than I expected.” Her voice was like silk, every syllable of the old Vor’shai language rolling from her lips, soft and dulcet, yet somehow commanding of attention. “Stop groveling like a peasant girl. Stand up so I can take a look at you.”
The train of Vorsila’s gown trailed along behind her as she moved gracefully down the stairs to circle around Leyna, inspecting her. Leyna tried to maintain her standing posture. Lack of poise would be displeasing to the Queen, and she needed to look perfect.
Cadell took a position near the steps where Vorsila had descended, arms folded, back straight. Leyna felt on display for them both, the way they stared at her, curious, judging. When Vorsila reached the stairs again, she kept her chin jutted out proudly. “So calling you here was all I needed to do in order to get you to creep out of the shadows? Not that word could have reached you, the way you were being hidden away from us. And do not think I am not aware that we were being toyed with in regards to your whereabouts.”
“Your Majesty, I assure you the fault is entirely mine –”
“Hush, dear, do not lie to me,” Vorsila raised her hand sternly. “It is noble of you to try and take the blame, but the culprit has admitted the deed to me. He and I had a very long discussion on the matter.”
Her heart jerked in her chest at the thought. Thade admitted to the Queen that he intentionally misled them? Was that why they called him back? She remembered her thoughts after Thade informed her of Enaes’s search for her. His desire for marriage. The deed was traitorous. She couldn’t bear the thought of him being punished because of her.
“I must beg of you to pardon him,” she pleaded. In desperation, she sank back down to her knees, bowing low at Vorsila’s feet. “I will endure any punishment in his stead, as it is only because of me that he thought to do such a thing.”
Vorsila looked down her nose at Leyna. The corner of her mouth twitched as if to smile, though it faded before it could fully mature. “Punishment?” she laughed, a sound like chimes ringing in a gentle wind. “Child, I would not punish him. I cannot blame him. I loved my son as dearly as I loved all of my children, but it was not unknown to me how foolish Enaes was. I dreaded the day some poor unsuspecting woman would be bound to him. He needed a lady who was not smart enough to see through him. If I were to pair you with one of my son’s, it would have been his brother. You are far more suited to him, I think.”
His brother? The young Prince? He would be heir to the throne now – and under great pressure to choose a wife, to save the dying Levadis line. Oh gods… What if that was what she intended this meeting for?
Uncomfortable with the thought, Leyna rose slowly to her feet, straightening the fabric of her dre
ss out of nervousness. Her eyes remained downcast. “So the Consul is not being punished for it?”
“The Consul?”
“Yes, Consul Imri.”
“Imri?” Vorsila pondered. “Ah, yes, of course. The Consul. Former, now. But no, I would not punish him. He has been punished enough, I believe. I do say, he speaks very highly of you. Were he anything like my poor Enaes, I might be inclined to think that you had him under some sort of witchcraft. Or already had your claws scratched into his back.” She paused to look Leyna over carefully, watching every tiny detail of her face. “But you are not that kind of girl, I hope.”
Vorsila’s eyes burned into her, calm, waiting for a response. Leyna shuddered to realize the hidden meaning behind Vorsila’s words. She swallowed hard, thinking of that last night with Thade, lost in the passion. But it was not a deed like so many women had done with Enaes. It wasn’t a quest for power, or hunger for a lift in status by finding her way into his bed. They intended marriage. And it pained her to think of the love she still carried for him in her heart. “I am not, Your Majesty,” she replied quietly. “The Consul and I were very dear friends, but I would not let myself come between him and his duty to you and our people.”
“Why does it pain you so to speak of him?”
Leyna inhaled deeply, her eyes meeting Vorsila’s, heart racing. “I beg your pardon?”
“Oh, please,” Vorsila waved dismissively. “Your broken heart is practically palpable. It all but bleeds on my floor. Tell me, Evantine. Was it really me you came here to see, or did you travel all this way in hopes of catching a glimpse of his face?”
The Myatheira Chronicles: The Vor'shai: From the Ashes (Volume 1) Page 81