Resistance (Ilyon Chronicles Book 1)

by Jaye L. Knight

  “I can only imagine. I was shocked to receive the news.”

  “You and me both. I never even considered that anything like this could happen.”

  Her father motioned to the couch behind them, and they both sat. His eyes turned serious now, the way Kaden’s often did when they talked.

  “How do you feel about this? It’s certainly an incredible honor…”

  His voice trailed away as he studied her face. Kyrin glanced around the room to assure herself that they were the only two people present before her eyes returned to her father.

  “Yes, to those who would wish for it, but…I have no desire to be here.” Her voice dropped lower. “Though I guess this is where King Elôm wants me.”

  Her father’s eyes grew delightfully large, but just as he was about to speak, the door opened. Servants entered bearing trays of food for their lunch. Kyrin and William rose from the couch to take seats at a small table. No one spoke as the servants set out their plates and poured each a glass of red wine from a crystal decanter, but William did give them a kind thank-you as they departed. When the door closed again, Kyrin and her father sat in silence for several seconds after the sound of footsteps died away. Then the conversation resumed in earnest, their meal all but forgotten.

  “How long have you known about Elôm?” William asked, his voice lowered, yet animated.

  “A little over a year.”

  “Who told you?”

  “Sam did.”

  “And Kaden? What about him?”

  “Him too. We don’t disagree on much.”

  William let go a long sigh. “I can’t tell you what good it does me to hear that. I’ve been wondering what I’d say or how I’d explain things to the two of you in the short time we have. I knew I had to say something since it’s so uncertain when we’ll see each other. But how did you know I believe?”

  “Sam told us that too.”

  “Good old Sam.”

  Kyrin nodded vigorously. “He’s been such a good friend to Kaden and me, and so helpful when we struggle with things. Without him, we’d still be lost.”

  “This brings me great comfort. For so long, I’ve wondered if I alone in our family would know the truth.”

  “What about Mother and the rest of the boys? Have you spoken to them?”

  Her father winced. “Your mother is not yet ready to listen. She’s fearful of what it could mean for us, and it upsets her if I say anything around Michael and Ronny.”

  Kyrin’s forehead wrinkled, and a small flame burned in her chest. Her father should be able to talk to her little brothers about something so important. No one should prevent him, and she was tempted to say so, but she held her tongue. Instead, her thoughts turned to her two older brothers. They were adults and could choose to listen on their own. “What about Marcus and Liam?”

  “I’ve used the opportunities I’ve been given, but it’s a very delicate situation. I never know what I should say or what might be too much.” William paused, and the fine lines in his face deepened. “The trouble with Marcus is his devotion to his duty as a soldier. To believe in the King, he would have to realize that his loyalty and dedication to the emperor and his gods are for naught. I’m afraid it would take a miracle.”

  Kyrin considered her eldest brother. During the years of their childhood together, he had always played the soldier. He’d dreamed of becoming a renowned general like their Grandfather Veshiron. And all these years he’d worked toward that goal, not knowing what such dedicated, almost worshipful, service to the emperor cost. Her father was right. Marcus’s loyalty and ideals would never sway easily, even if his soul stood at risk.

  Kyrin pressed her fingers to the deep ache in her stomach. “Maybe Elôm will give us a miracle.”

  A small smile lifted the corners of William’s mouth. “We will pray so.”

  And Kyrin did, right there in the quietness of her heart. She and her family had lived such separate lives for the past years. She didn’t want the eternity that followed this life to be the same. These days it was her only hope they would ever be together again.

  “So what about Liam?”

  Her father’s face and voice softened. “Liam is different. I can speak my mind more freely with him. He never says much, but always listens. You remember how he is. He gives a lot of thought to things before making up his mind. I think he’s open. I just need to find the right way and time in which to explain to him. It won’t be easy with his situation. He could never hide such beliefs as well as I can.”

  Kyrin hung her head. Why couldn’t they just serve their God in peace? It didn’t harm anyone.

  “Don’t worry,” her father said. “I’ll use every opportunity I can to speak to them. All of them.”

  She looked up. Her heart beat heavily. “Just be careful.”

  A grimace flashed across her father’s expression as if he knew something, something dreadful, but he warded off questions by hiding it behind a smile. “I will. Now, what do you say we eat?”

  Kyrin hesitated, still wondering about his reaction, but maybe she didn’t want to know. She had more than enough to think about already. She looked down at the cooling food, which a moment ago sat forgotten, and picked up a spoon to try the light-colored soup in the bowl before her. It had a creamy chicken broth with dumplings.

  “Mmm, Kaden would die for this.”

  “Still has a large appetite?”

  “Voracious.” Kyrin laughed. “And I know why. Wait until you see him. He’s definitely inherited Grandfather’s height. I’m afraid he’s surpassed you now.”

  William shrugged. “How can I complain about healthy, growing boys?” He took a bite of his soup, and once he swallowed, he said, “Speaking of the General, I have a surprise for you. Your grandfather is coming tomorrow.”

  Kyrin paused, her spoon hovering over her bowl, and stared at her father. An odd surprise, considering. But her father smiled and his eyes twinkled.

  “He’s bringing Marcus and Liam with him.”

  Kyrin’s spoon dropped with a splash into the soup, and a huge grin took hold of her face. “Really?”

  William nodded in confirmation. “They would’ve been here today, but the General had a few things to see to.”

  Just when Kyrin thought she’d exhausted her tears for the day, they blurred her vision, and anticipation swallowed up her appetite. Her voice a little shaky, she said, “I might not be happy with everything that’s happened, but at least it’s allowing me to see all of you.”

  For the remainder of the meal and throughout the afternoon, Kyrin sat with her father and caught up on the years they’d been apart, talking of home and her brothers. For those blissful hours, her promotion slipped to the back of her mind. With her father, she felt safe and confident. But, to her dismay, evening fast closed in on them. Long before she was ready, Lady Videlle entered the room.

  “Kyrin, it is time for you to prepare for your meeting with the emperor.”

  Kyrin looked to her father. “Will you be at supper?”

  “No,” William told her with regret. “This is a private meeting.”

  They rose from the couch, and Kyrin wanted to latch on to her father and not leave his side. He gave her an understanding look and pulled her into a gentle embrace. Whispering in her ear, he said, “Just be yourself. Be kind, but cautious. You’ll do fine. Always remember, you’re not alone. You never will be.”

  They parted, and Kyrin gave him a teary smile. She quickly composed herself and turned to follow Lady Videlle. She glanced back once to catch her father’s calming smile, and it instilled in her courage to face whatever was to come.

  Back in Kyrin’s room, Holly went to work fixing her cosmetics while Lady Videlle rattled off a mind-numbing list of etiquette and details for Kyrin to remember. Most of them Kyrin knew already, and Videlle’s constant talking frayed her already worn nerves. Still, she fought to remain calm. Her father’s words replayed in her mind, bringing comfort and reminding her of the higher power
in all this. She prayed fervently for strength and wisdom.

  After Videlle’s drawn-out fussing, she finally declared Kyrin ready to meet the emperor. Kyrin glanced in the mirror. Her face displayed a fresh layer of cosmetics, perhaps even thicker than before, especially on her eyelids, which left them sticky. But she surely couldn’t complain about it now.

  “Come along then,” Videlle said. “We must not keep His Majesty waiting.”

  Off they went through the palace. Kyrin focused on her heart, keeping it from racing, and tried to stop her palms from sweating again. This was when it really mattered. The Emperor’s first impression of her meant everything. He was the most powerful man in Ilyon, and not only her ruler, but now, her employer. She summoned all sorts of comforting images to her mind—her father, Kaden, Sam, and Marcus and Liam. She just had to make it through tonight, and tomorrow she would see her older brothers.

  This helped right up until she spotted the massive doors ahead. The last several yards dragged at her feet. Her tongue swelled up in her mouth, and she swallowed repeatedly. What if she couldn’t speak when she needed to? She could make quite a fool of herself if she bumbled her way through this. They paused as two servants took the ornate door handles and swung the doors open to admit them into a spacious room adorned in rich, burgundy velvet and gold accents. Now Kyrin’s heart did pound.

  Two men stood at the far end of the room, but one look at their rich clothing made it clear which man was the emperor. Both turned. Kyrin caught only a glimpse of the emperor’s face before Lady Videlle stopped and sunk into a low and graceful curtsy. Kyrin promptly moved to imitate her, though she couldn’t claim such gracefulness. Her unsteady footwear threatened to topple her.

  “Your Majesty,” Videlle said, her voice low with reverence.

  Slowly, they straightened, and Kyrin let out the breath trapped in her lungs. The emperor had closed the distance between them with the other man a few feet behind. Kyrin’s gaze lifted, connecting with the emperor’s, and stopped. Her mouth almost fell open. Warm, amber-brown eyes met hers—not at all cold or steely like she’d anticipated. In fact, nothing about this man matched her expectations. Though she’d seen him on occasion, it had been at a great distance.

  He wasn’t tall, not like Kaden, but he was fit. This showed even through his royal garments. Dark hair brushed his broad shoulders, and his strong face sported a neatly trimmed beard. Kyrin often heard women, even some of the older girls at Tarvin Hall, speak of the emperor rather breathlessly. She never understood why until now. Emperor Daican was a very handsome man. Could he really be the man she and Kaden spoke of so often as their enemy? Those golden-brown eyes of his, twinkling in the warm glow of the candles on the wall, could not be less threatening.

  Whether anyone else spoke in those brief few moments, Kyrin would never know, but she started at Lady Videlle’s introduction.

  “…present to you Kyrin Altair.”

  “Miss Altair.” Daican’s smooth but strong voice hung between them. He gave her a perfect, charming smile that for all the world looked genuine.

  Kyrin’s mind swirled dizzily with the uncertainty of how to feel—relieved or terrified. Where was the cruel-hearted man responsible for stealing her and Kaden away from their family? Nothing coincided with the assumptions she had created, and it nearly choked her ability to think. But somehow, she managed a response.

  “I am pleased to meet you, Your Majesty.”

  She even broke into a smile. How could she not when he smiled so openly back at her?

  “And I, you,” Daican replied. “You’ve been of great interest to me for some time.”

  “Really?” The question slipped from Kyrin’s mouth, and she winced. “I apologize, Your Majesty. So many go through Tarvin Hall, I never considered you would personally take interest in them.”

  The emperor chuckled softly. “I’m afraid I don’t have the time to spare to read reports on everyone, but there are a few my advisors bring to my attention, and you happen to be one of those few.”

  Kyrin still couldn’t imagine why her, but she refrained from asking this question. Instead, she spoke with great care. “I am honored. I never considered myself extraordinary at Tarvin Hall.”

  “Oh, but your talents are quite valuable, particularly at this point in time. People are deceiving and can hide their intentions so easily…”

  For the briefest moment, Kyrin’s insides turned to ice. If this was exactly what the emperor was doing, he did a frighteningly good job of it.

  “…but you know what to look for,” Daican continued. “You pick up on things others miss. You can catch the subtle hints to one’s intentions.”

  Kyrin studied the man for just such hints. However, she could find nothing to give him away—no clues that his kind and welcoming manner cloaked dishonesty. She did get a distinct and rather uncomfortable feeling that he was fully aware of her attempt to read him. Deciding any further scrutiny would be folly, she recalled her father’s words and recovered her smile. “I hope I prove as valuable as you’re expecting.”

  “I’m sure you will.” Daican glanced behind him. “Where are my manners? Miss Altair, this is Sir Richard Blaine, my chief advisor and an old family friend.”

  The man stepped forward. Grim-faced, he did not offer a smile, and just nodded his head stiffly. Kyrin curtsied, a shiver skittering across her skin. While Daican presented warmth and friendliness, this man embodied everything she had expected of the emperor. He was slightly older than Daican, and a hair taller, with thinner, more severe features. His cold gray eyes left a hollow feeling inside her.

  “Ah, my dear.”

  Kyrin focused again on Emperor Daican, thankful for the distraction. He smiled animatedly with his eyes set across the room. Kyrin turned as a courtly woman approached. Long, dark hair cascaded past her shoulders, held back by a golden circlet, but smoky eye shadow brought all the attention to her jade green eyes. She moved with mesmerizing poise and grace that almost put Lady Videlle to shame. Kyrin would be afraid simply to move in front of her. She bore a stunning resemblance to the more detailed depictions of Vilai, like a painting come to life, though she was a bit more tastefully dressed. Though middle-aged like Daican, her maturity only seemed to give her a more dignified air. Even Kyrin’s newly transformed look fell far short of this woman’s natural radiance.

  Kyrin glanced down and smoothed out the wrinkles in her vest. The gold fabric of her dress seemed to have lost a bit of its vividness. She looked up again, and her eyes settled on a second woman this time. Near Kyrin in age, she too bore rich dark hair and green eyes, possessing all of the older woman’s finest features, but her facial structure more closely resembled Daican.

  The young woman looked Kyrin’s way, and her deep green eyes seemed to bore right into her soul. Kyrin’s breath grew shallow as irrational thoughts popped into her head of all her secrets spilling out. Was this what people felt when she studied them? She hoped not. It didn’t feel good. She swallowed, trying to moisten her throat, and dropped her eyes again before looking to Daican.

  “Miss Altair, this is my wife Solora, Queen of Arcacia.” Daican spoke with a tone of true adoration and brushed his finger down the older woman’s smooth arm. Pride elevated his voice when he gestured to the younger woman. “And our daughter, Princess Davira.”

  Kyrin curtsied low again. “Your Majesties.”

  Neither responded, their mysterious, exotic eyes taking measure of her. Kyrin fought not to fidget. Would they find her as lacking as Lady Videlle had upon first examination? Her hands grew damp, and heat prickled her back. She inwardly thanked Daican for breaking into the awkward silence as he smiled at her once again and put her strangely at ease.

  “I do hope you’re hungry. I’m sure you’ll find the fare of Auréa to your liking.”

  “Yes, my lord, on both accounts.”

  “Excellent.”

  He offered his arm to his wife, and Kyrin followed the royal couple and the princess to the dining room.
Along the way, Daican leaned close to his wife to murmur near her ear. Kyrin didn’t catch his words and had no desire to overhear, but Queen Solora’s answer was more audible.

  “He left just after breakfast. Aric said he hasn’t returned yet.”

  A cold shadow passed over Daican’s face, and his jaw clenched as he looked away from his wife.

  In the grand dining room, servants pulled out chairs for the four of them at an enormously long table overhung with crystal chandeliers. Daican sat at the head, of course, with Solora to his right and Kyrin beside her. Davira had a seat directly across from Kyrin. The space to the emperor’s left was set, but remained curiously empty.

  The meal commenced with much more pleasantness than Kyrin had anticipated all day. Most of her nerves calmed within the first few minutes. The emperor continued to amaze her with his talkative and even witty personality. Though Solora and Davira seemed to deem her too far beneath them to engage in personal conversation, Daican had no such reservations, and even managed to make her laugh several times. They talked about Tarvin Hall, the palace, and Valcré in general. At one point, he asked, “Were you surprised to see your father?”

  Kyrin grinned, quick to relive the moment. “Completely, and I couldn’t have been happier.”

  Daican smiled in turn with a knowing look. “You two are close?”

  “Yes, my lord, very close.”

  “I was close to my father as well,” he said with a nod. “He died when I was seventeen. Your age, correct?”

  “Yes, my lord.” Kyrin sobered with the thought of losing her father so young. “I’m sorry. That must have been difficult.”

  “Indeed,” Daican said quietly. “It is very young to have the rule of a country placed on your shoulders. My father had great vision for Arcacia. His life was cut too short, but I’ve dedicated my life to establishing the legacy he was working toward. Not just for myself and my children, but for him also. I want my rule to reflect his greatness.”