“Please,” she cried, her pulse hammering in her chest, wild, violent. “Don’t! Veron!” Her shriek cut the air, following by the thudding staccato of clopping hooves.
A streak of pure white burst from the trees—the unicorn—racing toward Tarquin, directly for him.
Men shouted, drew swords and bows, and the soldiers keeping Veron gawked.
“Hold fire!” Tarquin yelled, the unicorn closing in on a hundred yards, over a ton of muscle and power tearing up the grass.
“Shoot it!” someone shouted.
“Hold!” Tarquin faced it head on. “Arabella!”
The unicorn charged him—fifty yards, thirty—
Holy Mother’s mercy, maybe it wasn’t her—
Fifteen yards—
Four legs Changed to two, a shock of sable hair blooming from her head, and beautiful and lithe, she ran, weeping, stumbling over her own legs to trip at Tarquin’s feet.
Murmurs of “unnatural” and “kill it” rippled through the Brotherhood forces as Tarquin raced to her, throwing off his officer’s coat to wrap her in it. He fell to his knees before her.
“Arabella,” he said, his voice breaking, and took her in his arms, where she sobbed into his chest. “I’m so sorry, Arabella. I’m so sorry.” He rocked her gently, patted her back.
“Stop this, brother,” she croaked, her green eyes big and dazzling as she looked up into his face. “No more violence on my account. No more violence. Please.”
Veron’s captors didn’t move, and neither did he, frozen on his knees, his head pulled back—but the hand holding it had loosened its grip.
Veron—please, be safe… Veron… She moved, but Lorenzo held her back with a shake of his head. He patted one of the knives sheathed in his bandolier.
The company of Brotherhood soldiers stood, some with bows drawn, others staring. A couple neared with readied crossbows.
“Stand down,” Tarquin ordered.
The crossbowmen didn’t waver.
“I said stand down!” He glared at the crossbowmen.
“You heard the general,” Siriano bellowed, stepping up with his right hand glowing a faint green.
A crossbow fired.
Tarquin lunged in front of Arabella.
The bolt lodged in his shoulder.
Veron headbutted the captor fisting his hair.
Another raised his sword.
Lorenzo threw a knife into the man’s neck.
Complete chaos broke out among the Brotherhood ranks, infighting and arrows loosed as Siriano raised an earthen wall between the company of men and their forward party. Lorenzo ordered his Royal Guard to attack, and they sprang into action, swarming Veron’s captors as he fought them.
One of them charged her and Lorenzo, but she ducked, covering her head as Tiny flew out and attacked the man’s face. He swatted at her but missed, and Lorenzo threw a salvo of knives into the man’s leather-clad chest. He spluttered and fell.
“Tiny!” she shouted, and the pixie flew back to land on her shoulder, chiming angrily.
A royal guard cut Veron’s bonds, and he grabbed a blade from the ground, fighting until every last Brotherhood soldier on this side of the wall lay dead.
She ran to him, and he turned, catching her in his arms, breathing her in, and already they were moving back toward Lorenzo along with his Royal Guard.
“Veron, for a second, I thought—” Her voice broke.
His eyes fixed on the earthen wall, he held the blade out at the ready, but his gaze darted toward hers a moment. “So did I.” He shot her an uneasy grin.
Tarquin lumbered backward toward them with Arabella and Siriano and, facing the wall, drew his sword.
Lorenzo drew his own. “Stay back, Belmonte! Or I’ll have your head!”
Tarquin’s eyes darted to his just a moment while he pulled Arabella in protectively. “I surrender. Please, I mean none of you any harm. I just want to make sure Arabella’s safe.”
The loud din of battle rose beyond the wall, chaotic, deafening, and men began to break through at the end of its length.
Siriano raised another perpendicular to it. “General, we need to move.”
“Just wait,” Lorenzo said.
“For what?” Tarquin hissed, and Arabella sobbed, trembling against him like a leaf in a storm.
The ground shook as she whirled around.
Heavy Sileni cavalry charged toward them—hundreds—thousands—with a glowing veil above them, lighting the way—pixies.
Tiny shot out and raced to join them.
“Move in!” Siriano yelled, and with a gesture, raised a triangular wall between them and the charging cavalry.
His first spell collapsed, and the Brotherhood’s fighting broke through. With a nod from Tarquin, Siriano dispelled the second wall, and they all stood within the triangle’s protection, huddled, as an earthquake of thundering horseflesh pounded past them and into the infighting Brotherhood forces.
Screams and shrieks tore the air, and the sounds of horns and shouted orders.
The Brotherhood was utterly decimated, broken bodies and blood—
Veron pulled her in, tucked her face against his chest, and she shook, squeezing her eyes shut. The battle, the violence, was horrific, but Veron was here, safe, his warmth soothing into her, his breath soft on her head, his hands stroking her back, alive.
“Papà planned to strong-arm the Brotherhood into returning Veron once you were safe,” Lorenzo said quietly. “You didn’t think we’d just hand him over, did you?”
Chapter 28
On his knees in Mati’s antechamber, Veron watched as she paced before him, Yelena, and Aless. There was a violence in her stride, in the contortion of her face, and he knew better than to speak until she spoke. Especially after all he’d done.
“Your Majesty,” Yelena blurted, “I just want to say this was all the human’s idea, and I didn’t have anything to do with it. In fact, I wasn’t even part of it until she asked me to be, and as a guest here, I didn’t feel I could turn down a princess of—”
Mati stalked to Yelena, eyes wild, met her face to face, and roared. Yelena squeezed her eyes shut at the deafening sound, as he and Aless leaned away.
“You,” Mati said with a sneer. “After your weak-willed, cowardly scheming to depose me, you now lack the honor to take responsibility for your actions? Queen Nendra has given you to me as a gift. To do with as I see fit. And your days as kuvara are over.” Mati stayed in Yelena’s face, her stare relentless, but still Yelena didn’t open her eyes. The moment lingered long past comfortable. “You will henceforth be a sluha and serve the kuvari and volodari in any way they desire.”
A sluha. She’d have to serve as a page.
Yelena winced but did not speak.
Mati moved to Aless. “And you. I give you my son, my blood, and welcome you to my queendom, only for you to betray me at the first opportunity. What were you thinking?”
Aless shook, her fingers trembling at her sides. “I-I thought if I f-failed and was c-captured, my father would have to g-get involved and help. And if I succeeded, the B-brotherhood would have n-no leverage.”
Mati narrowed her eyes, but there was a glimmer. “Be that as it may, that decision was not yours to make. Flout my orders again, I will have you harvesting cave lichen until you forget what civilization looks like.”
Aless nodded hastily. “Y-yes, Your Majesty.”
“It is your dark luck that King Macario and I have chosen to declare this as a joint operation, in which we both agreed to trade you for my two kuvari as part of a larger strategy. I don’t have to tell you what it would look like if the world believed I sacrificed my human ally’s daughter or, worse, couldn’t contain a single human barely out of her childhood years.”
Aless swallowed audibly.
Mati glared at each of them in turn. “Any of you speak of this to anyone, and I shall claw out your tongues with my bare hands. Do you understand?”
“Yes, Your Majesty,” they
said in unison.
At last, she strode to him and crouched. “And you, Veron, who have ever been a credit to this queendom and to me, have disappointed me gravely with your disobedience.” Her eyes softened a moment as her eyebrows pulled together. “For that, you are dismissed from the volodari for the foreseeable future—”
Dismissed from the volodari? It was the one thing he had any considerable skill in doing. But even as his body rebelled, he knew he deserved any punishment Mati had to give, and this—by all rights—was lenient.
“—and you will be placed with the stavbali to build whatever Nozva Rozkveta requires.”
The stavbali did backbreaking work assisting the inzenyri and the Stone Singers, but he’d do whatever was required to make amends.
“With that said,” she added, a faint smile curving her lips, “you did everything in your power to protect the one you love.” Her face went slack a moment. “I am proud that you did, that you loved fiercely and forgave, even if your actions were reckless.”
She was… proud? He didn’t regret what he’d done, not even a little bit, because although Mati was angry and he’d disobeyed, Aless was still here. He was still here. All of Nozva Rozkveta was still here. What they’d done hadn’t been right, but it had led them to this moment, where they were all still alive and had a future ahead of them.
Mati was angry… but sometimes there were more important concerns than not angering loved ones. Like saving the love of his life and trying to stop a war. And for that, he’d take this punishment, a hundred punishments, a thousand—as long as Aless still lived and breathed.
He glanced at Aless, who was still trembling, but if Mati was fortifying the stavbali, that could only mean one thing: Aless’s dream was about to come true. Their dream.
Sighing, Mati rose. “Despite all of your actions, we managed to avoid all-out war, reaffirm an alliance, and build a new one. Now get up and join me in the grand hall, where King Macario, Queen Nendra, Duchess Claudia, and all of Nozva Rozkveta await.”
Veron stood in the grand hall’s periphery, Aless on his arm, as Mati shook hands with King Macario and then with Duchess Claudia. Lorenzo was at Aless’s side, along with Bianca and Luciano, who’d come to change Tarquin’s mind—albeit too late. The kuvari already had him in their custody at Heraza Gate.
“What do you think was the final agreement?” Aless whispered, leaning in.
That much he’d overheard. “A reaffirmation of the Sileni–Nozva Rozkvetan alliance. A more concrete agreement between Stroppiata and the allied queendoms. Roccalano to compensate Queen Nendra for the loss of her murdered volodari, with vast quantities of food and other supplies. The Brotherhood to be rooted out and ended by the coalition. And Tarquin Belmonte to be exiled.”
It had been a kindness to Bianca and Luciano, and to Arabella. But also, as an exile, Tarquin couldn’t be used as a martyr to further stoke the malcontents; he’d simply disappear and be forgotten.
Aless lightly rested her head against his arm, and there was something about her in Nozva Rozkvetan robes that pleased him as he looked her over. Her human clothes had always suited her—and he’d say or do just about anything to see her in that sheer red thing from their wedding night—but in these plain robes, she was saying something to him, to his family, to all of Nozva Rozkveta, without even a single word. That message mattered to him, a lot, even if his Aless could never fade into the background, never blend in—and he didn’t want her to. That wouldn’t be the woman he’d married… and was marrying again today at the Offering.
“What about Arabella?” she asked.
Arabella moved about Nozva Rozkveta freely, even now, although she seemed to spend most of her time with Noc, who could answer most of her questions about her new nature.
“She wants to learn control of her Change,” he answered. “And my mother has agreed to help her.” Unicorns had always been a benevolent force in the world, and Arabella herself had saved him from imminent death and prevented a war.
Soon, Mati would send out a team of the volodari to track other unicorns—who generally didn’t want to be found—in an effort to find Arabella’s maker, who could help her control her Change by lifebonding with her.
“And in exchange, Tarquin goes quietly.” Aless took a deep breath.
“Something like that.”
She gave him a faint smile, although it soon faded. This entire situation had hit her hard—they’d nearly lost one another, a war had almost been instigated, people had died, and not all of them hateful Brotherhood members. And all of it born of ignorance.
It was by Holy Ulsinael’s dark grace that a peace had survived.
Mati turned to the assembly of humans and dark-elves and raised her hands. “Today, we reaffirm a friendship between the kingdom of Silen and Nozva Rozkveta, between humans and dark-elves, built on a shared land, a shared purpose, and the marriage of our children.” Smiling, Mati gestured to them both, and Aless curtseyed as he bowed. “That friendship was forged with a wedding, and today we renew it with a wedding once more. I invite you all to join us at Baraza Gate in one hour for the Offering between my son, Veron, and his wife, Alessandra.”
Everyone turned to them and applauded, and he couldn’t help a jittery hum coursing through his veins. If Aless would but have him, today would change their lives forever.
He was a dark-elf, Immortal, and the love of his life was a human.
Today, he had come so dangerously close to losing Aless, and he never wanted to feel that way again. Ever.
“We have also chosen to share our knowledge with the sky realm, to forge a partnership going forward that will help protect both our peoples against those who would mean to do us harm, while welcoming the people of the sky realm to know us,” Mati said.
Next to him, Aless’s breath caught.
“A library,” Mati declared, with applause filling the silence she left.
Aless held his hand tightly, practically brimming.
“We will invite knowledge from around the world that we could use to learn about our new circumstances, all the while sharing with the world our culture, our knowledge, our language, teaching any who wish to learn. To that end, the Order of Terra, a monastic order devoted to serving the goddess Terra, has agreed to be our partner.” Mati gestured to the Paladin Grand Cordon next to Duchess Claudia, who inclined his head to the applause.
“My daughter-in-law will oversee the project and ensure it meets everyone’s needs.” Mati smiled at Aless, who gasped, scarcely able to catch her breath.
Despite everything—or maybe even because of it—it was safe to say Mati had a fondness for his wife.
After another round of applause, Mati held out her hands. “Now, let’s all get ready for a wedding.”
“The library,” Aless whispered, her cheeks reddening. “Our library… and the second ceremony. All in one day. Veron, I…”
“I know.” He grinned. “Come on, let’s prepare.”
He was ready. Today, with all his heart, he would offer her everything he had and everything he was. And pray she’d say yes.
Aless gripped the ancient stone balustrade in the ruins behind Baraza Gate, where the Bloom curled around crumbling stone pillars and every bit of stone in the courtyard, a lovely weave of verdant vines and glittering red roses that only glowed brighter as the world darkened.
It would soon be dusk, and she’d be making the Offering to Veron.
They’d stopped a war, still had each other, and he didn’t hate her after she’d abandoned him. And Queen Zara had announced the library. Soon, there would be several libraries across Silen, open to all, unwinding this ignorant hatred book by book.
It was happening. It was all happening.
She took three deep breaths.
“Alessandra,” Papà’s voice came from the steps. “You should be happy. You finally got your wish.”
Did he mean the library or Veron? “Papà, this is the best day of my life.”
He stroked her ch
eek, his gaze soft. “Your mother’s wish came true, and she is gone. I wish you’d see the danger in this.”
She shook her head. “Mamma died doing what she loved. It was important to her, and she—and her purpose—are important to me, too. I want to keep that alive. Maybe I would’ve been useless in your world”—and when his mouth dropped open, she added, “Yes, I heard you say that to Mamma. But I’ve finally found it. My world. I helped sow a peace, and I will continue to do so. The library will be a beacon of knowledge, education, and hope.”
Papà heaved a sigh. “Alessandra, I have tried all your life to protect you. This—getting involved in something so risky, putting yourself out there and accessible to any lowlife…” He shook his head sadly. “You are still here, and your mother is gone. Leave the past in the past. You should just live safely.”
It was not in her to hide and live a safe life. Not while she still had two hands, and there were people who thirsted for knowledge but didn’t have the tools to acquire it. Mamma had tried to shine a light on the world, to fight the ignorance that begat fear, and that was a worthy cause, one she’d continue the fight for.
“Mamma is gone,” she whispered to him, “but she doesn’t have to be forgotten. We did that, by disregarding her wishes, her life’s work, everything that mattered to her. I understand that you mean well, but I choose a different path, Papà.”
Another heavy sigh left him, but he kissed her cheek. “Congratulations, daughter. I may not agree with you, but I know your mother would be proud. Both of your library and you.”
She couldn’t help but smile, and with a final nod, he descended the steps and headed to the front of the ruins.
Bianca crept up next to her with a beaming Gabriella. “Well, that was unexpected.”
She couldn’t help a laugh as Bianca looked her over.
“Are you sure this is the right dress?” Bianca asked.
Aless brushed her fingers over the rose-red tulle netting of her wedding gown from Bellanzole. It fit her perfectly, and the skirts flared out gently, a ten-foot train behind her.
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