Before the war, Billick had boasted of his intent to bed Lady Eletha. Perhaps that was part of the irony of her demands, placing the burden of conception into his lap along with complete surrender. Now, she walked toward him with long, languid steps, the horizontal slits in her dress revealing glimpses of pink nipple as they shifted across her bosom.
Billick made a show of sneering openly, but it was clear that he was a defeated man. Even as aroused as he was, there was no confidence left in his eyes. If anything, his expression hinted at self-loathing and annoyance in the deep satisfaction Lady Eletha took in their reversal of roles.
She pushed her hand against his chest, knocking him back into the chair that was once to be his throne. Pulling up her dress from the hem, she lowered herself onto him. He was ready for her, and reached his hands up to feel her body and take control.
Two of Lady Eletha’s valkyries seized his wrists before he could. Lady Eletha nodded to a third, who came up beside her and took hold of Billick’s long ears, rubbing the appendages and teasing the erogenous zones there with soft movements.
Lady Eletha sank lower onto him, and Billick’s mask faded away. He let out a defeated moan and tried to glare at her, only managing a halfhearted effort. Lady Eletha pulled at her plunging neckline and thrust her bare breasts into his face. Slowly, she rocked her hips back and forth. She planned on taking her time with him.
“Halrin Kentar! Are you truly this daft?”
Hal flinched at the sound of his sister’s voice, nearly dropping the translation he’d been studying. Lilith was headed up the hill in his direction, carrying her skirts high as she stepped through the rain speckled grass.
He felt his cheeks reddening as he considered the history he’d been reading. Many of the ancient elven texts that Roth assigned him to translate centered on topics that were less than appropriate for polite discussion. Some of them even veered into explicit detail, giving a raw, unfiltered glimpse into the lurid history of the elder race.
“Do you need something, Lilith?” he asked.
Lilith bounced with each step as she made her way toward the tree Hal was resting against, her strawberry blonde curls falling loose across her freckled, youthful face. Behind her, carriages approached the Kentar Estate in an unbroken line, appearing to flee from the beautiful setting sun and indigo infused clouds in their wake.
“It’s father’s victory party,” she said. “He’s going to be expecting you there.”
Hal shrugged.
Of course he will be. Along with all his sycophants, desperate to win his favor however they can.
“Father is always expecting one thing or another,” said Hal. “I’m sure he’s learned to manage his disappointment over the years.”
Lilith made an annoyed noise and crossed her arms, the motion causing the curls of her hair to pull and bounce like paper spirals. She stomped toward Hal, pouting as her eyes ran over him. For an instant, he feared that she was going to look at his work, and he scrambled to set the stack of paper just out of reach.
“What happened?” asked Lilith. “I know you too well, brother, to think that this morose mood comes naturally to you.”
She sat down next to him, leaning her back against the tree trunk, and took hold of one of his hands. Lilith was only twelve, a full eight years younger than Hal, but she was precocious and surprisingly perceptive for her age. Hal sighed and made a vague gesture, hoping she’d just let it drop.
“Father denied your request for dueling training,” guessed Lilith. “Again?”
Hal slowly nodded.
“It doesn’t make any sense to me,” he said. “The Collected Provinces may be at peace now, but that might not always be the case. And he’s one of the most prominent Voicemen, especially now that he’s been reelected. How does he expect me to protect him or you, should something happen? With a single ball from my pistol, which I also haven’t been trained with?”
“He doesn’t want that kind of life for you,” said Lilith.
Hal scowled, not at her, but at his circumstances.
“Father used those exact same words,” said Hal. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d suspect an element of collusion between the two of you.”
Lilith made an offended noise, and Hal couldn’t keep a tiny smile from betraying his teasing. She was too easy, sometimes. Or perhaps she was just playing along, doing what she could to drag a better mood out of him.
“It’s not just the training though, is it?” asked Lilith. “He must have said something more than that to darken your temper so.”
“It’s not what he said…” Hal ran a hand through his hair. “It’s what he does. Who he favors…”
“You think he favors Mauve over you?” asked Lilith. “Mauve isn’t his son, Hal. And he isn’t your brother, despite how close he’s become to all of us.”
Mauve was the son of Eddard Broven, the Voiceman who’d originally pulled Hal’s father, Karnas Kentar, into politics. When Eddard had passed away, Mauve had still been a young child and the last of his family line. Karnas had taken him into the Kentar household without a second thought.
Mauve and my father get along well enough that maybe it would be better if he was his real son.
Hal pushed the thought away, realizing how petty it was. Mauve had been his best friend for almost his entire life. While Karnas had gone as far as to hint that he’d be open to allowing Mauve to marry Lilith one day, if he wished to join the family legally, Mauve was just as free spirited as Hal when it came to his future.
“I know,” said Hal. “And you’re right. It’s just frustrating. I’ve seen Mauve on the dueling grounds before. He’s the best swordsman under 25 summers in the province. It’s like father takes a perverse pleasure in allowing him the freedoms that he denies to me.”
Lilith frowned and said nothing. After a few seconds, she sat up straight and glanced over at him, her green eyes open and hopeful.
“I know what will cheer you up!” She reached into one of the pockets of her dress. When she pulled it out, her hand was clenched into a fist over something. “Close your eyes!”
Hal felt as though he’d rather roll his eyes than close them, but he obeyed. He felt Lilith draping a necklace over his head.
“Okay,” she said. “You can open them now.”
Hal looked down at what he’d been given. The necklace was an odd thing, a circle of leather cord with a small, clear stone in the shape of teardrop hanging from it. It was smooth and uniform, lacking any imperfections that he could see.
The stone had a strange effect on the light that passed through it. It wasn’t prismatic, but it still created minor distortions, almost like a full glass of water. A small, metal clasp with a loop for the cord to run through had been secured to the tip of its teardrop shape, leaving the larger half to hang downward.
Hal glanced up at his sister, who watched him with an excited expression on her face.
“I found it washed up on the edge of the river,” said Lilith. “What do you think of it?”
“I can’t really wear a necklace,” said Hal. “Rings are the only jewelry appropriate for grown men.”
All the excitement faded from her face, replaced by open disappointment. She bit her lower lip, and Hal knew beyond doubt that she was seconds away from crying.
“It’s beautiful!” he said, quickly. “And I can just wear it under my shirt. Thank you, Lilith. I’ll treasure it always.”
He pulled her into a tight hug, and felt her rest her head against his shoulder.
“Really?” she asked.
“Really,” he said. “Thank you.”
“I love you, Hal,” she whispered.
She kept hugging him even as Hal started to release her from the embrace. Her hands moved across her eyes quickly as he caught sight of her face again, brushing away wasted tears.
“Now,” continued Lilith. “You need to head down the ballroom and join the festivities. And for the sun’s love, Hal, patch things up with father. Tonight
isn’t about you, it’s about him.”
“Fine,” he said. “I’ll see what I can do.”
CHAPTER 2
Lilith headed straight back to the victory party, but Halrin needed to return his translation to Roth’s library first. He buckled his pistol belt back on as he stood up from his spot by the tree and set off down the hill toward the archives.
The Kentar estate was one of the largest land holdings in southeast Cardvale. It was mostly undeveloped, with the main house and buildings set within a large clearing surrounded by cultivated fields and pasture lands. Further beyond lay the dense, thick forest that had reclaimed much of the province over the past hundred years.
Hal took a route that would keep him away from most of the party’s guests. He was already dressed for the festivities, but he hated listening to the pleas and overtures of the merchants and politicians who were desperate to win his father’s favor.
The necklace Lilith had given him felt odd around his neck. The strange stone pressed against the bare skin of his chest, feeling warm and alive. He pulled it out as he walked, frowning as it began to heat up against his fingers.
A flash of light came from within the clear stone’s core, lasting only a fraction of a second, but shining bright enough to hurt Hal’s eyes. He flinched back from it, blinking several times in quick succession and frowning. Stones that changed color over time were not uncommon in the collected provinces, and were often set in to jewelry and purported to be able to tell the mood of the wearer.
I’ve seen that before, but never anything like this. Very strange…
The library doors were already locked for the night, but Hal had his own key. He let himself into the musty space and headed to his tutor’s desk. He tucked the translation into the drawer that Roth reserved for him to submit his work and made his way back outside.
He’d been working as a translator, both of spoken and written word, for almost five years. Few in southeast Cardvale had a better understanding of the various dialects and tongues spoken across the Collected Provinces than he did. Hal’s education extended not only to the ancient elven language, but to the eccentric sign language of the ogres, as well. Being an ogre himself, Roth had taught him personally.
The air in the hallways of the estate smelled of the night’s feast, a mixture garlic roasted pork, seasoned vegetables, various pastries, and the distinct, slightly acidic smell of wine. The sounds of the victory party reached Hal from far outside the ballroom and stirred his anxiety. It wasn’t that he didn’t enjoy parties, but the burden of his father’s work in the public eye often fell onto his shoulders, as well as Lilith’s.
Dozens, if not hundreds of people were packed into the ballroom, pressed closely together across both the lower and upper levels. The estate’s servants had set up a small stage in the very back of the main floor for Karnas to deliver his speech from. Karnas was already busy talking with several of his fellow politicians, the chosen few who curried his favor.
Hal and his father had shared a fractious relationship ever since the passing of his and Lilith’s mother four years earlier. She’d been the center of their family, with an open, loving personality that had made her a master of orchestrating compromises. Hal still missed her deeply, though her death had been expected, as she’d been sick for several years before it came to pass.
He watched the conversing politicians for a second too long and Karnas’s eyes met his as his father scanned the room. Karnas was nearly as stubborn as he was, but Hal could see a hint of a plea in his father’s expression. Had their argument truly been so bad? Hal had raised his voice to Karnas, who’d shouted back at him, but what had they actually said to each other?
He said I wasn’t fit to be a warrior, in body or temperament. And I said that he’d always make a better politician than father.
It had been rumored that the Executive Voice might make an appearance to congratulate Voiceman Karnas, given how instrumental his support had been in Karnas’s reelection. Looking around, Hal doubted that it would be so, given that most everyone of interest had already arrived.
He never knew exactly what to do with himself at his father’s parties, and he was still glancing around awkwardly when an arm settled across his shoulders. Mauve favored Hal with a wide grin and passed him a mug full of ale.
“Take a swig,” said Mauve. “You look as though you could use it.”
Hal let out a single chuckle.
“I think I probably could,” said Hal. He put the mug to his lips, tasting a hint of blackberry in the strong brew.
“Lilith told me about the fight,” said Mauve.
Hal turned to look at him, frowning slightly as he did. Mauve was tall, with broad shoulders and strong muscles from his martial training. His skin was tanned, and his face was handsome. Since they’d both come of age, Hal had occasionally felt pangs of jealousy when comparing his more average physique to his friend’s, but the two were more than close enough to make jest of it.
What surprised him now was the expression on Mauve’s face. He looked guilty, as though he blamed himself for whatever had happened between Hal and his father. Seeing that made Hal feel like a petulant child, arguing and sulking in a manner that dragged his friends and family down with him.
“Don’t worry about that,” said Hal. “It’s not your fault. And honestly, it’s none of Lilith’s business.”
“She’s your sister,” said Mauve. “Everything related to you is her business. You are going to talk to him at some point, are you not?”
At some point…
Hal nodded, though he wasn’t sure whether he would do it that night. Presenting himself at the party seemed to be enough of a concession, from his point of view. He could put off mending bridges with his father until the morning, when they’d both had the time to cool down.
“I will,” said Hal. “Do you mind if I finish this?” He wiggled the mug back and forth, suddenly eager to be on his way toward drunkenness.
“Not at all,” said Mauve. “Of course, you’ll have to do me a favor in return.”
“I should have expected as much.” Hal grinned at him. “What is it?”
“It’s not even a hard favor, relax,” said Mauve. “And it’s as much on Roth’s behalf as mine. He took his hand drums out to put on a small show for the room, at your father’s request. He mentioned to me that his drumming would go over better if he had a few dancers to demonstrate the flows of Kye Lornis.”
Hal raised an eyebrow. The Kye Lornis was an ancient ogre martial dance, taught to a tribe’s youths starting at age five. It had become something of a cultural relic over the past century, with ogres assimilating deeper into human society and letting go of many of their old traditions.
Roth had taught both Hal and Mauve many of the basic Kye Lornis flows and even a few more advanced ones. There was only so much they could learn, limited by their human physique. As a dance intended for ogre youths, many of the movements necessitated an ogre’s four arms and were near impossible for a human to do more than imitate.
“I don’t know, Mauve,” said Hal. “To be honest, I can’t say that I’m in much of a mood for dancing right now.”
“Halrin,” said Mauve. “Please. I’ve been dying for a chance to show Maddie what the flows are like when performed in front of a real crowd. And it’s not just for me, but Roth, too!”
Maddie was Mauve’s girlfriend, though the two spent about as much time fighting as they did in harmony. She was a sweet girl, slim waisted with a generous bust. Hal liked her well enough, as did everyone except his father, who still hoped for an eventual match between Mauve and Lilith.
“Can it wait until later?” asked Hal. “Once I’m loosened up a little?”
“Eleanor is here, too,” said Mauve. “I’ve seen how you get around her. And I’m sure you’ve noticed how she gets around you, too. She’s normally so talkative, but every time you join the conversation, all she can do is blush and stutter her words.”
Mauve clapped him on
the shoulder and nodded toward a group of girls across the crowd. Hal spotted Maddie and her best friend Eleanor, both dressed in dresses of the current fashion - which some of the older generation found scandalous. The dresses barely made it down past the girls’ knees, and the tight stockings they wore underneath left so little to the imagination that Hal couldn’t help but stare.
“Fine,” said Hal. “When is Roth planning on starting?”
Mauve immediately turned his attention toward the ogre scholar, who was already sitting in the middle of a circle of four drums. Roth was the only ogre in residence in the Kentar estate, and his clothes had been specially made by the estate’s tailor to accommodate his four, long, spindly arms. His face was naturally smooth, and in place of eyebrows, thin ridges protruded from his head. A long pony tail of straight black hair fell across one of his shoulders.
Roth smiled at Hal and Mauve, and then began to drum a slow rhythm, drawing the attention of the entire room. Before Hal had time to reconsider, Mauve had already grabbed his arm and begun pulling him into the fray.
A circle of open space and polished wood floor lay just in front of where Roth was drumming. Hal suspected that either Mauve or Roth had spread word of the spontaneous performance long before he’d ever agreed to do it.
I can’t be mad at either of them. The people want a show, and who else will give it to them?
It was only then that Hal saw a flicker of nervousness on Mauve’s face. The feeling was infectious, and soon the two of them were shooting each other sidelong, anxious glances. Hal looked to the circle and then back at the waiting crowd.
He took off his belt, as did Mauve. Mauve’s belt looked heavier than Hal’s, given that it held both pistol and sword. An empty moment passed with neither of them hurrying to be the first one to showcase the dance, Roth’s drums echoing rhythmically throughout the ballroom.
“Alright,” said Hal. “It was your idea. You should start this off.”
Mauve let out a nervous chuckle.
“You’re the one who Roth claims has the real potential with the flows,” said Mauve. “Maybe you should…”
Sword Sirens (The Weatherblight Saga Book 1) Page 34