Evenlight

by Krista Walsh

  “If Basten is behind this, I’m going to punch the stupid moustache off his smug face,” said Venn.

  “If I don’t reach him first,” Jayden grumbled, coming away from the door.

  Jasmine smirked as she sank down next to Brady. “I don’t think punching him, however tempting, would be the most diplomatic course of action.”

  Jeff watched the counsellor slide his hands over her shoulders to dig his thumbs into her neck, the way her eyes closed and she sagged against him.

  Jayden hmphed and threw himself into a chair. “Fine. But he’s definitely going to get some words.”

  “How long do you think he’ll keep us in here?” Jeff wondered aloud. He paced back and forth, unable to sit down, too much energy and impatience buzzing in his system.

  “Until he feels like talking to us,” said Jasmine, opening her eyes. Jeff felt her gaze following him as he crossed the room up and down. “Stop that before I have to go and punch you. You’re making me dizzy.”

  “We’re wasting time,” said Jeff.

  “And wearing a hole in the carpet is not going to get Cassie back any faster,” said Jasmine.

  “But at least they’ll have a hole in their carpet.”

  Venn sniffed and stretched out on the other sofa, propping her dripping boots up on the armrest. “You show ‘em, Powell.”

  Jeff sighed and winced as his leg cramped.

  Jasmine must have noticed. “Sit down and rest before you knock yourself out of commission again.”

  He wanted to argue with her, assure her he felt just fine and tell her to butt her nose out of his health, but reason spoke louder than his bad mood, and he dropped into the chair next to the window. Pulling back the heavy curtain, he stared down into the extensive maze of gardens, hedges bundled against the weather and hidden under layers of snow. Hints of impressive topiary peeked out from underneath white blankets, and Jeff remembered how it looked in the summer when all the flowers were in bloom.

  In the winter, with the grey sky pressing down and the white ground closing in around them, their “accommodations” felt that much more restrictive, as if the whole world wanted to keep them penned in.

  He shuddered at the thought, still not having gained control over his recently developed claustrophobia, and let the curtain fall back. Eying the satchel he’d dropped on the floor behind Venn’s sofa, he considered stripping down enough to apply the bees, but decided to wait until he had a bit more privacy.

  Whenever that would be.

  Over the course of the next few hours, they each took a turn being the grumpy and impatient one. Brady was the most immune to waiting, happy to close his eyes and escape into the vast mental universe he now had access to, but everyone else grew moodier as the waiting continued. Food arrived eventually, and while the servant set down the trays, Jayden peppered him with questions about why the door was locked and how long until someone showed them to the queen.

  “We’re here at her personal request,” he kept saying, but the servants never replied.

  When the door closed again, he stood behind it with his fist clenched. “What does it say about the situation here when even Queen Ansella’s orders go ignored?”

  “It’s not reassuring,” Jeff had to agree. His thoughts returned to Kariel’s accusations. “Do you think Basten managed to convince her? About my alliance with Raul, I mean. Maybe these are her new instructions?”

  Jasmine shook her head. “Unlikely. If she suspected anything of the sort, we wouldn’t be sitting up here in caged luxury. She would want us to prove or disprove the rumours. If I had to guess, the reason for the delay is because Basten is hoping to convince her.”

  Venn sighed. “Then we might be here a long time. I hope they bring more food. And give us somewhere more comfortable to sleep.”

  Jeff pulled back the curtain again, watched as the sun tickled the tops of the trees, shadows stretching out over the garden, closing them in further. His leg had gone from aching to itching to burning, and as time continued to pass he had less and less issue taking his pants off in front of his friends.

  “You don’t look so great,” Venn commented as he sat down next to her on the sofa. She had sat up long enough to pile some bread and meat onto a plate.

  “I’m fine,” Jeff replied. He sensed the looks of disbelief from the others and shrugged. “All right, I feel like shit, but that’s not about to change while we’re stuck in here. Anyone else get the feeling they’re just messing with us for the hell of it?”

  He looked forward to seeing the egg on Basten’s face when the man discovered how wrong he was about Jeff’s so-called alliance.

  After a few minutes of sitting on the sofa, Jeff was up and pacing again, trying to distract himself from the pain. The satchel on the floor called to him, and he started to think of ways he could put on the salve without taking his pants off at all.

  After five laps, he was out of breath and sweat tickled his neck. Not wanting to see the looks of concern on his friends’ faces, he dropped back into the chair by the window.

  Outside, the sun disappeared and a blanket of diamond lights sprinkled the sky. Jeff lost himself in the stars as they danced in his vision, allowing his thoughts to wander where they wished, as long as it kept him from thinking about his leg. Or Cassie.

  He didn’t think he’d fallen asleep, but when he roused himself, the sun was rising, light spilling across the floor to warm his toes and remind him how long it had been since he’d eaten. More servants arrived with more food and more non-answers to Jayden’s questions.

  After they left, Jayden was the only one not to eat. His face grew redder as he grew angrier, and the thundercloud above his head made the energy in the room heavy with tension.

  Jeff wished he could say something to calm the man down, make him realise getting angry wouldn’t solve anything, but he suspected one word would be enough to make Jayden snap. Instead, he focused on his cut of meat and kept his eyes on the floor to avoid being the one to push his friend over the edge.

  As it turned out, Jayden needed nothing but his own anger to burst through the proper behaviour expected from the Lord of Feldall while visiting his sovereign. He released a loud growl and slammed his fist down on the priceless coffee table, making everyone jump.

  “I’ve had it. He can’t keep us locked in here like criminals without sending someone for a discussion. We were summoned here by Queen Ansella, not that moustached, bloated—” he stopped and took a breath. “I’m going out there, I’m going to track him down, and I’m going to demand he explain himself.”

  “Jayden, sit down,” said Jasmine, using a tone of voice that would have made Jeff hide under the sofa if she’d directed it at him. “The door is locked. How do you propose to get out?”

  Normally her commanding voice worked with her brother, but Jayden was past reason.

  “I’ll find a way. We’ve sat on our asses long enough,” he said, and strode forwards.

  Just as he reached for the handle the door flew open, and Jeff watched as a very emotional Jayden Feldall came face to face with his wife.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Ariana stood her ground in response to Jayden’s dark expression and crossed her arms over her cream-hued tunic. She looked too casually dressed to be the princess of Andvell in her brown trousers and knee-high boots, her strawberry blonde curls loose and unruly.

  “Nice to see you, too,” she greeted.

  From his place on the sofa, Jeff could see as Jayden’s expression turned from angry to shocked to blank, and he covered his mouth to hide a smile. He knew that under the stoicism lay a flurry of emotions that would put the warrior in an even worse mood once Ariana left, but for now would stay hidden under the veneer of civility.

  “Princess Ariana,” Jayden said, bowing at the waist.

  Ariana rolled her eyes and pushed him aside. He had to stagger to keep his balance and sent a withering glare after her. Although Jeff noticed the downward trend of his gaze.

 
“Sorry about the wait. Basten fucked up, and Mother’s livid,” the princess said, never the perfect portrait of regal propriety. Jeff suspected she and Venn would hit it off very well.

  The other four had already risen to their feet and offered their best bows and curtsies, but Ariana didn’t acknowledge the gestures.

  “It’s nice to see you, Jasmine, Brady. More surprised to see you two,” she said, turning to Jeff and Venn. “When Basten told us you were back, I almost didn’t believe him. But as usual, the man was right.”

  “It’s nice to see you, as well, Your Highness,” said Jasmine. “You’re looking well.”

  “Ana, please. I get enough bowing and scraping from the servants around here and, while I won’t complain about it, it would be nice to have some peers who don’t feel the need.”

  Jasmine smirked. “I can understand that to a certain extent. So what’s going on? We learned from Lord Kariel that we could expect some difficulty in the capital, but I can’t say we weren’t a little shocked to be ushered up here in the still of the night and locked in.”

  “That’s Basten. Mother just heard and I think she might be throwing things at him. She didn’t even want to wait for a servant to fetch you, so I offered. Gave me an excuse to get away from her glares and Basten’s apologies.”

  “So she wants to see us?” Jayden asked, his voice gruff and as flat as possible.

  Ariana’s eyebrow quirked. “I believe that’s what I said. Would you like me to go back and ask her to make a formal invitation, Lord Feldall?”

  “No, Your Highness,” Jayden replied, each syllable drawn out and intentional.

  The corners of Ariana’s lips twitched and she nodded. “Very well then. If you all want to follow me. I suggest if you have any form of armour, you bring it along. I don’t know how safe you’ll be until Mother calms down.”

  Jeff tried and failed to imagine the cool and collected Andvellian queen throwing knickknacks at the first counsellor, but he readied himself for an entertaining performance.

  “We’ll take the short cut,” Ariana said, moving further into the room. “It’ll also have the advantage of staying out of the guards’ way as much as possible. No matter that my mother wants to see you, they’re under strict orders not to let you anywhere near her. I should be enough protection, but I don’t want to take the risk that they’ll stab first and never ask the questions.”

  She pulled aside a tapestry in the corner to reveal a door. Jeff felt a thrill of excitement, a childhood joy of getting to explore hidden passageways and secret tunnels. This time, it wouldn’t be made out of sofa cushions.

  “You mean we could have been out of here ages ago?” Jayden grumbled.

  “Teach you to idle your time away brooding. Next time, be more adventurous.”

  Jeff waited for Jayden to lose it, but the lord pressed his lips together harder and said nothing.

  “The stairs are steep,” Ariana warned, grabbing a torch from one of the wall sconces. “Watch your feet.”

  She opened the door to a tunnel of blackness and led the way. Jeff followed Jasmine with Venn behind him, hoping his leg would make it the entire way down. Brady and Jayden took up the rear.

  As they moved away from the door, it swung shut behind them, closing them in darkness. Jeff felt a surge of panic, but focused closely on Jasmine’s hair, on the way strands of it blew with the small draft that had to come from somewhere, which meant somewhere there was a way out. He wouldn’t be trapped forever.

  Without any railings to hold onto, he kept one hand against the wall, limping down step by step, telling himself he wouldn’t fall. He would not make an ass out of himself in front of the princess.

  Fortunately, Ariana kept the pace slow, and they reached the bottom without mishap.

  “What about the man in the robe the guards took?” Jasmine asked as they walked. “Was he questioned? Did they learn anything?”

  “Hasn’t stopped talking since they locked him away. Nothing relevant or helpful, of course.”

  Just like the woman we captured. Just our luck.

  “Almost there,” Ariana’s voice drifted back towards him.

  “Thank the gods,” said Jayden. “I was starting to think you were leading us on a merry chase around the palace.”

  “You’ve found me out, Lord Feldall,” she said, not pausing in her step or turning to face him. “I just wanted to get you in the dark.”

  Jeff heard Jayden stumble behind him, and he stifled a laugh behind a cough. Jayden responded by giving Jeff a shove, and he lost his balance on his bad leg, reaching for the wall to steady himself.

  Guy can’t take a joke anymore.

  “This takes us down the hall from Mother’s audience chamber,” Ariana said. “The guards here probably won’t stop us. By now they’ll all have heard her opinion on the subject. Watch your eyes, it’ll seem bright out there.”

  She pushed the door open, and sunlight poured into the room from the high windows. Jeff blinked and held up his hand to block the worst of it until his eyes adjusted to take in the scene in front of him.

  Compared to the decor at Kariel’s Keep, the palace came off as especially simple and tasteful. The tapestries, just as vivid and colourful as his memory made them out to be, hung at regular intervals to share Andvell’s royal history with anyone willing to take the time to read them. Jeff had lingered over more than a few of them the last time he was here, and Brady had explained the histories of each.

  His favourite tapestry was kept right outside the doors to the audience room. The image was simple, yet eye-catching: a night time forest with a woman in white leaning over a pond. Behind her stood a man in red armour wielding a red sword, raised to strike. When Jeff first saw it, he saw the obvious story of an evil man about to murder the unsuspecting damsel. Brady’s explanation was much more fascinating.

  The woman was Queen Ansella’s grandmother, Petrella. A distant heir to the throne, she was in hiding during King Francis’ reign of terror as the people around her were cut down in the streets based on rumour and accusation. Her own family had been hunted down and hanged among the thousands that Francis convicted of treason. Petrella’s aunt had been smart enough to plan ahead and created an escape route out of the city, taking Petrella with her after the girl’s parents were taken in the street.

  The man behind her was Ansel, who would later become king. Far from evil, he was an icon of hope and honour.

  The scene portrayed the mythical tale of how Ansel had met his future wife. He was on his way to Margolin to seek an audience with its queen. Crossing through the dangerous land, with a bounty on his head for being a known opponent to the king’s rule, he took the forest as a secret route. In the middle of the night, he came across this woman by the pond and stopped dead. At first sight, he believed her to be a nymph, dressed in white and alone as she was in the woods. He drew his sword to protect himself against her dark magic, but in the next moment she won his heart. Turning her head, she saw a strange man with a sword raised towards her. She knew she was an enemy to the crown and thought this man wanted her dead, so she met him with a sword of her own, previously hidden in the shadows of the tall grass.

  “Ansel was so enamoured with her courage that he dropped his weapon, fell to his knees, and offered himself to her,” Brady had said. “The truth quickly came out that neither of them was what the other feared, and once Ansel returned with his army, they were married.”

  “And lived happily ever after,” Jeff remembered murmuring. “So why did they choose this moment for the tapestry? Why not the wedding itself?”

  “Ansel in red represents his passion and fervour in saving the country from the tyranny of a mad man, while Petrella represents the innocence of the time. Everything that was lost. Once they were married, their rule was one of the most peaceful in centuries. The people believed Ansel had saved them not only by ridding them of a terrible king, but also with the strong foundation he built within his family.” Brady had watched Jeff’s reac
tion and added, “Of course, this is only history. We can’t know what really happened. Most of it is likely the worst exaggeration.”

  But that hadn’t mattered to Jeff then, and it still didn’t. The tapestry and the story hit him in the gut, because he knew what it was to love someone so deeply and unconditionally.

  Jayden straightened the tapestry to cover the door, and the group turned its attention to the voices drifting towards them from the room at the end of the corridor. Voices raised in argument, punctuated by one loud exclamation, and then silence.

  Ariana shook her head. “I told you it might not be safe. I suggest we proceed with caution.”

  In spite of her words, she strode forwards and pushed into the room without knocking. “Hello, Mother. I’ve brought your guests, as requested.”

  Jayden and Jeff stepped in behind her, one looking confident and assertive, the other feeling timid and afraid of getting belted by flying objects.

  “Thank you, Ariana. I appreciate your haste.”

  Basten stretched out his hands, turning his back to the newcomers in a blatant attempt to block them out. “Your Majesty, I really must protest. Knowing what we do of Mr Powell and his questionable allegiance, I do not think he should be allowed in your presence. Not with the growing threat against the crown to—”

  “Thank you, Basten,” Ansella interrupted, her voice about as warm as ice. “If I care for your opinion on the subject, you may be sure that I will ask for it.”

  Jeff wished Basten had been allowed to continue. He wanted to hear more about how the rumours against him had started and what evidence the man had to back them up. But he knew the queen had bigger concerns at the moment than Jeff’s reputation.

  Basten shot the new arrivals a bitter glance, and bowed, stepping out of their way. “Your Majesty. Please send for me once you’ve decided the consequences of my actions.”

  Ansella closed her eyes and released a breath, flattening her hands along the armrests. “Sit down and be quiet, Basten.”