Joshua Brenheran watched from up high in the spire of the palace as the twins stalked out to greet the first guests to attend the Midsummer Solstice celebrations. They all appeared so tiny from up here. His half-brother and half-sister. His stepmother. Not his family the way he had believed for most of his life. The black-and-white carriage, without a doubt the royal carriage of the house Aucrosta, rolled away to the servants’ entrance for the baggage to be unloaded and brought to the guest rooms, leaving the three heirs of the territory beyond Ulfray in the care of the sentries they had brought.
With unease, he pulled his knees closer to his chin as he leaned against the wall where he was sitting on the windowsill. He was so high up in the spire that there was no glass covering the windows, which let the wind rush through at unbroken speed. He came up here a lot when the others were busy—Mckenzie with sulking about his decision to invite the nobility of Neredyn to the celebrations, his stepmother for him being who he was, and his father…
Joshua glanced at the clear blue sky, the horizon beyond the palace, where the Ackpenesor etched its path out of the city toward the Glistening Blue in the west. On good days, when the wind blew the right direction, he could smell the brine of the ocean. He yearned to go there, to feel the salty air on his face, the freedom of being nothing and no-one. At least, here in the tower, his father couldn’t find him and try to talk strategies. Strategies for Sives.
It was almost a month since he had been freed. Since Gandrett had struck him with her magic and knocked him out long enough for Linniue’s compulsion to wear off. Linniue—his mother. His mother, who was now dead.
All those years, he had believed Lady Crystal was his biological mother… First thing when he had returned to his chambers in the palace, he had stared at his face in the mirror, at his eyes—the same as his siblings’. His father’s eyes. The only trait that identified him as a Brenheran. The rest … the nose, the curve of his mouth, the way his hair tended to stand up at the top of his head … his cheekbones, his jaw, broader than Brax’s and Mckenzie’s … now he understood where to place them. He had spent years under the compulsion of his mother’s spell. A worshipper of Shygon.
Some nights these days, he lay awake, wondering if he could have prevented it, any of it, if he had been stronger, smarter. But that night they had snatched him away, he hadn’t been able to defend himself well enough. Not against the mercenaries. Not against Armand Denderlain, who, against all odds, had become his ally over those years, even through the spell.
His head still ached, some of the nights that sleep eluded him, as if the effect of the magic was still wearing off, and when he managed to close his eyes, dreams took him back to Eedwood Castle and showed him the turquoise fires. Dragon fire. It all made sense now that he understood what his mother had wanted for him. Emperor of Neredyn, all peoples of the continent united under his rule of terror.
She had spoken of power, countless times, and that she would make him the strongest ruler Neredyn had ever seen. All by the grace of Shygon. A shudder ran down his spine at the thought of the god of dragons. He had seen what normal magic could do when Gandrett had fried him; he didn’t even remotely want to know what extent of power his mother had had in mind. His back tingled between his shoulders in response, hair standing up as Neredyn’s bloody history during the Dragon War came to the front of his memory. He didn’t need to see the paintings and books about the Dreads of the Skies to understand that something like that could never happen again. Not if he wanted peace for Sives and alliances with the other territories so trade could be established and culture could thrive.
He loosed a sigh and listened to it as it was instantly carried away by the rush of air that blew around his neck, his bare chest. He had been up here the entire morning, hiding from the courtiers’ eager eyes. They were still whispering about the Prince of Sives, stopping their hushed conversations when he turned the corner, their gazes cautious, not trusting and full of admiration as they used to be. He no longer was the young heir to Ackwood they had all tutored during his years of adolescence. No, he had become something different, an element afloat between east and west, belonging to both and to neither. So, yes, sitting on the windowsill was a good way of spending the morning so he could evade those stares, those whispered words following him down corridors, and Mckenzie’s heated accusations for making this year’s Solstice an event that Lady Crystal could abuse to give away her hand to some foreign noble.
For the crown. Not for anything else had he made the choice to invite all of the houses. For peace for Sives.
But he had to admit that he hadn’t seen his stepmother’s plans coming. She really was looking for a suitor for Mckenzie. A suitor. Where had the years gone? He shook his head at that first moment he had set eyes on her at his return. In his mind, she was still the girl whom he had trained to defend herself, but she had grown into a woman over the years of his absence. And there was no doubt that with her spirit and intellect—and those un-ignorable curves—any good man would treasure her beyond measure. Any bad man, however—
He didn’t want to think about it. Not yet. For now, he hoped that there were good men among Neredyn’s nobles and that his stepmother and his father would protect their only daughter from the others.
Joshua sat and stared at the tiny figures below him, not once dreading the three-hundred feet fall that threatened if he leaned too far out the window. He had lived through the worst and gotten away. This—being up here—was freedom.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Brax settled in his chair after his father and mother had taken their seats together with the royals of Lapidos. Also after his twin. Leonidas should see what manners looked like, the standards which Mckenzie was used to and what he would expect of any man who got near her.
Leonidas gave him a lazy smile as he picked up the burgundy embroidered napkin and placed it on his lap.
“The King and Queen of Lapidos send their regards. They were held up in Ilaton with matters that could not wait,” Oriel, the oldest of the siblings, said in a remarkably effortless Sivesian. As the future Queen of her territory, Brax supposed, it was her job to be fluent in all of Neredyn’s languages. Brax, Mckenzie, and Josh had all studied Lapidonian as they had Phornian, and while Mckenzie had picked up on both quite quickly, Josh and he had both struggled, especially with the complexity of the language of the southernmost Kingdom.
“We are honored they sent all three heirs in representation of Lapidos.” The Lord of Ackwood inclined his head at the young woman whose dark, reddish hair curled from a high bun, her eyebrows two perfect arches of the same color.
Brax studied her in silence as they exchanged formalities, all part of the games at court. And what a good job he had done to avoid it. But now, this was about Mckenzie as much as it was about the future of Sives. So he straightened and smiled at Oriel Aucrosta with her classical nose, her subdued-bronze skin in contrast to her white chiffon gown. “I trust your journey was comfortable,” he entered the conversation, earning a proud gaze from Oriel’s bright, kohl-framed eyes. She shifted, making the slings of dusty-rose chords which held her gown up at one side slide over her bicep. An heir to the throne and trained in combat, he could tell by the predatory grace of the woman.
“The roads along the Ulfrayan border are always an adventure,” was all she said as she returned her attention to Lord and Lady Brenheran.
Beside her, Muriel tugged on the end of her dark braid that fell from a ponytail all the way to the thin leather belt, which crisscrossed around her waist, holding the low-cut, cream gown together. Her features were softer than Oriel’s, softer somehow, with full lips and the same bright, grayish eyes.
Leonidas leaned closer to whisper something into Muriel’s ear, and a smile pulled on that rosy mouth.
Brax was so focused on assessing the new arrivals that he almost jumped as a servant reached past him, emptying a tray of refreshments. Mckenzie noticed and grinned.
“I have never been near the Fae la
nds,” she said with a childlike voice, beaming at the young man sitting across from her. “Do tell, do the trees look the same there? Can you feel the magic?”
Lady Crystal cleared her throat, and Brax stifled a laugh at the expression on Prince Leonidas’s face.
Beside Brax, Mckenzie blinked innocently.
Leonidas glanced sideways at Oriel as if asking permission to speak, but the woman took the word and said, “I doubt anyone has made it close enough to the borders in the past centuries to really tell what the Fae lands look like.”
“Only those who bring the banished to the borders,” Leonidas added and returned Mckenzie’s grin, his light-green eyes aglow in the colorful light that filtered through the stained glass windows. He shook back his dark waves before he rested his forearms and turned his gaze to Brax. “It’s quite a job… even if there are hardly any gifted left in Neredyn other than the Vala-blessed.”
Brax nodded, wondering what that had to do with anything. But his polite, noble mask didn’t slip. Not while he was assessing the first candidate their mother had pulled up for Mckenzie’s hand.
Oriel picked up the glass of cooled water that had been poured for her and raised it to her lips, pausing before she took a sip. “The House Aucrosta is pleased with this invitation to your home, Lord and Lady Brenheran.” Her gaze turned to Brax, holding it with trained elegance—“And yours, Brax.”—before it wandered further to his twin. “And yours.”
Mckenzie raised her own glass as if she was going to toast but dropped it midway to her face, causing the cold liquid to spill over the broad table so fast Leonidas couldn’t push away in time to avoid getting his white tunic soaked. A string of words in Lapidonian, sounding so foul that Brax wasn’t surprised nobody had bothered to teach them, escaped Leonidas as he jumped to his feet and shook out his arms.
Brax noticed Mckenzie bite down on her lower lip, her eyes twinkling with mischief before she slipped on the mask of the clumsy little girl she wanted the Aucrosta heirs to believe she was.
“I am so sorry,” she breathed and jumped up, napkin in hand, and stumbled around the table, ignoring the hiss of her mother to sit and let the servants take care of it. But Mckenzie was unstoppable as she reached Leonidas Aucrosta on the other side of the table while his two sisters started up in disbelief, and the Lapidonian sentries pulled their weapons as she grabbed the prince’s hand and dabbed at his sleeve. “My apologies, Prince,” she murmured, fussing over his arm like a housemaid, making the young man turn bright red from awkwardness.
“Mckenzie,” Lady Brenheran’s voice finally broke through the room, bringing the attention of everyone but the sentries, who seemed to be still debating whether Mckenzie Brenheran was a threat to the prince, and the palace guards, whose eyes were on the sentries, their swords and spears clutched tightly in anticipation of a pending escalation.
But Mckenzie froze and stepped back, eyes on the ground, lips pouting … wobbling. Was she—
Brax struggled hard to keep a straight face as a thick tear rolled down his twin’s cheek, a sob, so artificial it could as well have been a stifled burst of laughter, escaping her trembling lips.
“I am sorry,” she whispered and turned to shuffle out of the room without another look at the prince and princesses of Lapidos.
Brax considered giving that laugh in his throat free rein, but his mother said, “I don’t know what got into her. Mckenzie is usually such a—” She stopped as his father gave her a gaze of caution. “Apologies, Prince,” she finished, holding that other thought for the private conversation with Mckenzie, which would surely come—and wouldn’t be pleasant.
Leonidas, however, sat back at the table as the sentries and guards around the table relaxed, sheathing their weapons as he did, and picked up his own glass of water to drink deeply while the servants cleaned up the mess Mckenzie had made. He shared a look with his sisters before he said, “It is only water.” He gestured at his sleeves. “This will dry in no time.”
Lady Brenheran loosed an audible breath and dove right into conversation, eager to forget what had happened, but Brax didn’t take his eyes off the prince, who had shed a layer of formality and didn’t seem half as horrible as he would have imagined. At least he hadn’t thrown a hissy fit about Mckenzie’s stunt.
With a smile, Brax leaned back in his chair and raised his own glass to drink.
The morning of Midsummer Solstice was warm enough to make Brax sweat in his light pajamas. On a normal day, he would have stayed in bed and have someone bring him chilled juice and fresh pastries, but not today.
Today, all the potential suitors for his twin would meet under this very roof, and he would be there to make sure none of them stole her away against her will.
Brax had found Mckenzie laughing after the brief welcome for the Aucrosta heirs in the great hall. She had done a great job making the impression of a clumsy little girl who would be an embarrassment at any ruler’s side. None of the Aucrosta siblings had said it, but he had read it on their faces. So he was content to consider Leonidas off the list of men who would negotiate for Mckenzie’s hand.
However, over the day, more carriages had arrived in the yard, some of them bearing single visitors, others an entire family. He had seen the guest list Joshua prepared, and he knew that this would be a Solstice celebration of the kind Neredyn had yet to see.
House Aphapia had arrived before sunset as had House Grenta, both Lapidonian nobilities bringing only their male heirs with them. House Dumcon arrived after dinner, Najeda and Ishbelin and their son Varka too tired from the long journey for a formal introduction.
Now that he was donning a set of fresh clothes in his usual black, Brax was already going through the guest list in his mind.
Apart from the Aucrosta siblings, Lady Isylte Aphapia of Ilaton was the only face he knew, and she was traveling with the House Grenta whose lord, Richal, she was married to. She had brought one of her daughters, whom she was already parading around the palace by the time breakfast was served in the great hall.
Just as he finished up the last buttons of his tunic, a knock on the door sounded, and he rushed to it rather than calling for whoever it was to enter.
Mckenzie was leaning on the threshold, her dress a scandalous shade of pink and her eyes promising mischief.
“Who are you planning to torture today?” he asked by way of good morning.
His twin chuckled as she pushed away from the door, looped her arm into his, and pulled him into the hallway.
“The House Saza Brina sent only one delegate,” she said as she led him down the stairs. “The male heir.”
“Surprise.” Brax glowered at no one. They entered the second floor, turning into the part of the palace where servants were already buzzing about, following their morning duties. “And there, I would have thought, people would be coming for Josh.”
Mckenzie fashioned a grin that wasn’t entirely fake. “Maybe he should have announced, in the invitations, who exactly they would be refusing.”
“You mean he signed as Joshua Brenheran, Heir of Ackwood?” Brax brushed a fleck of dust off his shoulder as they passed a mirror.
“Of course,” she whispered. “It is too important to announce in a letter—the whole prince thing.”
Brax inclined his head at a young woman who batted her eyelids at him, her face familiar but apparently not important enough to remember. She giggled as they strode out of sight.
“So they sent only the male heir,” Brax repeated, wondering if there would be anyone he’d be interested in dancing with that night.
“Taghi,” she spoke the name as if she was faking a laugh.
Brax laughed. “If it helps, I’ll promise to reserve all my dances for you so you have an excuse not to have to let any of those power-hungry, noble, breeding stallions step on your toes.”
“I’ll remind you of that once you head off with a pretty servant.” Mckenzie glanced over her shoulder as if gesturing at the girl who had just passed them.
/> He dismissed her words with a huff, and they both stopped dead as a dark-haired young man of average height, but with muscled shoulders and arms like a god, stepped into their path when they turned the corner.
He eyed them with a light-green-eyed smirk, which Brax couldn’t tell was the harbinger of a storm or plain amusement. “I heard that,” Leonidas Aucrosta informed them with a rolling accent that seemed even heavier than the day before.
Brax amended his expression as he went over the past seconds of their conversation in his mind, and Mckenzie’s hand tightened around his arm as if she was doing the same.
“Heard what?” she asked casually, her eyelids fluttering innocently.
Leonidas’s grin widened. “That your brother likes to bed servants.”
Brax stifled a cough. “Dance,” he corrected, imitating Mckenzie’s bored expression. “It’s that thing you do when you use both feet in rhythm with the music.” Mckenzie swayed left and right with him as Brax demonstrated with a light tap of his feet.
Leonidas burst out in laughter as he scurried past them and up the staircase leading to the guest rooms.
“He must think we’re crazy,” Brax noted as they moved safely out of earshot.
“Better that than wanting to marry me,” Mckenzie pointed out, and they both snickered as they descended, discussing ways to lower the interest of any of the heirs attending the celebrations.
It was just when they walked down the final staircase to the great hall that Brax spotted another carriage in the yard. Exiting were a tall blonde man and a dark-haired young woman who didn’t quite seem as noble to him. He was about to warn Mckenzie that another one had arrived when he noticed Josh dashing through the gardens like a fool—and not a prince—to greet the two strangers in familiar deep blue.
Wicked Crown (Shattered Kingdom Book 2) Page 15