Burdened Bloodline

by Sarah E. Burr

  Her grandfather, the Duke of Mensina, had stood by her side, something that at first had surprised her. It was only during recent years that they repaired their familial relationship, and it had blissfully translated into a stronger political alliance. Jax suspected her aunts had played a role in the Duke’s acceptance and support of her new policies.

  Dukes Pettraud and Crepsta rounded out the circle of her closest allies. Duke Pettraud, bound to her now by marriage, was in this war whether he wanted it or not. Jax secretly suspected the Duke was trying to make amends with Perry for the treatment he’d received all his life as the invisible seventh son and was supporting her as a sign of good faith. Duke Crepsta, on the other hand, still walked a precarious line between ally and threat. Duke Crepsta’s nephew had been wrapped up in the horrific plot of her parents’ murders, and while the Duke had apologized numerous times and continued to back her, she still kept him at arms’ length. She wanted to trust him, as her father once did, but there was something still holding her back.

  I suppose if the realm really does succumb to war, I’ll need to put those feelings aside and give him my trust. Her spies had informed her Duke Crepsta had been ill of late, and with his advanced age, the throne might be in jeopardy. Crepsta had no living children of his own and had yet to declare a successor. An ancient rule called the Code of Succession governed the duchies: If the rightful, firstborn heir predeceased the current sovereign or was declared unfit to rule by that same sovereign, it was up to the sovereign to bestow their duchy to a worthy successor. This statute had already affected Jax once before in her lifetime. Her mother, Amaryllis, was the eldest daughter, and by right, the heir to the Mensina throne. Upon her death, Jax was actually entitled to the duchy’s crown once the post was vacated by her grandfather. During the same fated summit where Darian Fangard had been anointed the first common-born Duke of Cetachi, Jax had relinquished her claim, allowing her grandfather to choose one of his four remaining daughters to succeed him. Her aunt Annette, closest in age and familial resemblance to Jax’s mother, had been the obvious choice, but she now served as Darian’s political advisor and had recently become his fiancée. Her grandfather had yet to make it known whether or not Annette would still inherit Mensina. If she did, her aunt and soon-to-be uncle would wield a great deal of power and influence.

  Perry’s lips pressed against her temple, bringing her racing mind out of the tangled political web tightening around her and to the present. “It will all work out, Jax.”

  She desperately wanted to believe him.

  Chapter Three

  A knock at the door broke apart their embrace, and Perry went to open it, inviting their guest inside.

  Lady Uma, Jax’s lady-in-waiting, swept into the room, her face a mask of displeasure.

  “What’s wrong, dear one?” Jax came to her side, placing a worried hand on her crossed arms.

  Uma sighed. “I just ran into Edrice and Ammon in the hallway. They’ve decided to leave for Zaltor today.”

  Perry sauntered over to a small basin of clean water and splashed his face, his last bit of preparation for the morning. “What’s so concerning about that?”

  Uma’s face contorted into an uncharacteristic scowl. “Well, they’re taking Ines with them. With their departure, we’ll be the only party left here.” She shivered. “Besides the company of that wretched Olavo.”

  Jax chuckled, relaxing at Uma’s overactive worries. “We’ll be fine on our own, dear one. The Ogdams have agreed to close the resort to new guests until our escorts arrive from Pettraud. It will be far easier with just us here. George won’t have to waste his efforts keeping an eye on other parties.”

  “Keeping an eye?” A shocked gasp escaped Uma’s lips. “Does that mean you’ve been suspecting something nefarious from the High Priestess and her husband?”

  Shaking her head, Jax retreated to the small vanity in the corner of the room, where she picked up a rouge brush and swiped it lightly on her sculpted cheekbones. “No, I’m not worried about Edrice and Ammon’s allegiance.”

  “Ines, then,” Perry stated, guessing her unspoken concerns.

  Jax turned away from the mirror, ready to face the day, outwardly, at least. “I know she claimed to be unaware of her brother’s involvement, but I’m not so sure. Why would a doting brother bring his sister on a mission like this if she was not an accomplice of some sort?”

  Uma wrung her hands. “Well, Olavo didn’t know all the details of Duchess Tandora’s plot. He thought he was delivering a simple box of Soveignet chocolates to Lady Victoire Rapaste.”

  “So he says,” Perry pointed out, sending a critical look Jax’s way. “You told me you believed him when he claimed to have no knowledge the chocolates were poisoned.”

  Jax’s shoulders drooped. “I know. And I still do. But I can’t help but wonder who else knows that Duchess Delphinia conspired with Beautraud and Savant to end my life. If Olavo didn’t draft the correspondence to Savant about lacing the chocolates with maulroot, did Delphinia do it herself? It seems highly unlikely a woman who has not penned anything personally since her ascension to the Tandora throne would break with tradition now.”

  “Perhaps Beautraud was the one who corresponded with Savant,” Uma offered.

  “Let’s hope that’s the case. The fewer people involved, the better.”

  Perry stiffened as he arrived at Jax’s side. “What makes you say that, my love?”

  “The more people who know there’s been a botched assassination attempt on my life,” Jax said, her lips set in a grim line, “the more people there are to try to rectify the error.”

  Uma pushed a stray lock of mousey brunette hair behind her ear. “I do hope Nadir makes haste to Pettraud. We must get you back in the graces of the Ducal Guard, and soon.”

  Jax took her friend’s hand, hoping to soothe her trembling petite figure. “I’m sure we’ll be home before you know it.”

  Uma rolled her eyes. “Here I am, blithering on like a lunatic while you comfort me. Virtues’ sake, Jax, you’re the one who I should be reassuring.”

  “Nonsense.” Jax wrapped an arm around her. “It does me good to worry about my friends, rather than all the other things vying for my concern.”

  Uma stifled a snort before pulling away. “Hendrie and Vita are already downstairs. I believe Vita offered to help Samira in the kitchen, while Hendrie’s been assisting Ferran with loading the High Priestess’s carriage.”

  “Seems I wasn’t the only one who failed miserably at taking a vacation.” Jax smirked, but felt her heart warm with affection. Vita, her lady’s maid, and Hendrie, Perry’s longtime valet, knew the Ogdams were struggling to make ends meet, and therefore had offered their help when and where they could. “Let’s head down now. I want to say my goodbyes before Edrice and Ammon depart.”

  Gathering her skirts, Jax stepped out into the second-floor hallway, nearly colliding with George.

  “I’m sorry.” He grabbed her by the elbow to steady her. “I was just coming to make sure you were all right. It’s not like you to be late for food.”

  Jax blushed. Her next meal was always a high point on her list of priorities. “We were just on our way.”

  George nodded stiffly, stepping back as Perry’s figure appeared in Jax’s shadow. Uneasiness seeped into the air, something she found to be quite disheartening.

  Perry, glancing at his feet, cleared his throat. “I owe you an apology, George. My behavior earlier was inexcusable.”

  George held up a hand to protest, but Perry barreled right through his words. “I let my imagination get the better of me. I should know by now you are only doing your job.”

  Her gaze drew back to George, whose tanned face remained stoic and unreadable, save for a flicker in his dark eyes. “I apologize if I ever gave you reason to think any different, Lord Pettraud.”

  Perry winced. “Oh, bollocks, let’s not be like that. I’m sorry, George, I really am.”

  At that, the Captain’s tigh
t shoulders visibly relaxed. “I get it, Perry. No apology needed.”

  The mood brightened substantially as the foursome made their way downstairs to the massive dining hall. The sight of only seven place settings on the expansive table seemed unbefitting for such a grand scene.

  Abra Ogdam, the first to spot the group, rose from her chair. “Greetings, Your Grace. I hope you and your companions slept well.”

  Jax nodded, inwardly cringing at the deference the gorgeous woman now paid to her. Abra had not been the most welcoming hostess to Lady Rapaste, but to the Duchess of Saphire and the Isla DeLacqua isles, she was most hospitable. “Yes, thank you for asking, Madam Abra.”

  Abra remained standing, clutching the back of her chair with a claw-like grip. Even in a regal gown and makeup, Jax’s own beauty paled in comparison to the desert rose. Abra’s shimmering midnight hair fell almost to her waist, and the sleeveless white gown, hemmed with gold, hugged every curve of her lithe body.

  Her husband Ferran was her opposite in every way. Round at the middle and average height, Ferran’s appeal came from his jovial face, the lower half of which was covered with a well-trimmed beard. Jax wondered why the man’s eyes were watering as he, too, jumped to his feet and gave her a graceful bow. “Duchess, what a pleasure to have you dine with us.” Ever since Ferran learned her true identity, everything she did seemed to please him.

  “I’ve been looking forward to this meal since Abra mentioned it last night.” Jax deftly made her way to her seat, which was now situated at the head of the table. Ferran had insisted she claim her rightful place.

  Perry took the chair to her right and Uma to her left, as was the custom for a Prince Consort and royal lady-in-waiting. Everyone else in the room remained standing.

  Jax resisted the urge to roll her eyes, instead letting a smile break across her face. “Please, everyone, sit down. I’d much rather prefer it if you treated me like you would have Lady Rapaste. It made everything so much simpler.”

  Ferran wiped a handkerchief across his sweaty brow. “Much easier said than done, Your Grace. It is hard to ignore the customs engrained into my very being since childhood.”

  Jax unfolded her napkin and placed it on her lap. “Well, then, I must again apologize for putting you all on edge. This is a haven from everyday life, after all. You should feel able to relax.”

  Catching her eye, Edrice, an Ancient Faith High Priestess of Zaltor, gave her a catlike grin from her place at the table. “I’m afraid that even if you weren’t here, Duchess, Ammon and I would still be on edge.”

  Jax’s eyebrows rose. “About…?”

  Sunlight streaming in from one of the high-arching windows glistened on Ammon’s ebony skin as he reached for his wife’s hand. “Our little mission.”

  “A great deal rides on our next move,” Edrice explained. “Once we report back to the Conclave, I suspect Ammon and I will be sent to Cetachi to inquire whether Duke Fangard will allow us asylum.”

  Surprised the Zaltorians would speak so freely about their covert reason for traveling across the desert, Jax quickly realized they were sharing this information for the benefit of Abra. Their hostess had once been a priestess of the Ancient Faith herself, before the higher-ranking nobles of Kwatalar banned the religion from being practiced. Jax also noticed Lady Ines was not among the breakfast guests, so the Zaltorians had little to hide.

  “Why not come to Saphire? Was it not clear you’d be welcomed?” Jax asked. The Ancient Faith had decided to sever ties with the Duchy of Zaltor, as its Duchess had all but declared her support for the alliance Dukes Beautraud and Savant had initially formed. The Ancient Faith, while serving in the name of unseen gods, believed every person should strive to live a good and just life. The Faith disregarded the titles of commoner and noble, and now found themselves aligned with Jax’s vision of a happier future.

  Edrice’s amber eyes shone brightly against her dark skin. “While we greatly appreciate the generous offer, Duchess, I’m afraid it would not be wise to relocate our people to a potential war zone.”

  Jax’s hand halted mid-stretch as she reached for her water goblet.

  “If the offer still stands and our talks with the Duke of Cetachi conclude unfavorably, then we would be honored to call Saphire home.” Edrice ended her words with a dip of her chin.

  “I see. My duchy is a last resort?” Jax couldn’t suppress her frown.

  Ammon shook his head rapidly. “We do not mean it in that manner, Duchess. We simply want to keep our people safe. They deserve that much.”

  Jax’s insides roiled at her own insensitivity. “Of course. It was callous of me to suggest anything else. It’s a wise move. Cetachi’s northern border shouldn’t be pulled into this mess.” A soft smile slid across her refined features. “Your people should find security and acceptance with Darian.”

  Perry nudged her under the table. “Should you be making promises?” he asked in a hushed whisper. “What if Darian says no?”

  Jax gave her husband a well-timed look. “Have you met the man? Darian won’t be able to say no.” Her gaze trailed down the table to where Edrice and Ammon chatted with Abra. “He won’t abandon people in need.”

  Ferran spoke up. “Well, should you need a respite from your travels, you are always welcome here, High Priestess. We have more than enough room to house a few of your followers on their sojourn to a new home.”

  Edrice leaned across the table and took Abra’s outstretched hand. “Come with us. Be free to live how you want, no longer pinned under Earl Killiam’s clutches.”

  Abra squeezed the woman’s hand before letting go. “This is our home, High Priestess. We cannot abandon it.”

  “Besides, Duchess Jacqueline is on a quest to free us all of our chains.” Ferran’s lips curled with hope from the forest of his beard. “Kwatalar will flourish as it once did.”

  Gnawing doubt clawed at Jax’s stomach as she plastered an encouraging smile on her face. So many people were counting on her to succeed. Her proposal for a free and equal future had reached those beyond her own borders. Her dreams were now the dreams of many across the realm. She could not disappoint them.

  “Where is Lady Ines?” George asked from his seat near the middle of the table, troubled thoughts brewing behind his chocolate eyes.

  “She’s speaking to her brother,” Samira answered as she entered the dining hall, Vita in her wake, pushing a wooden serving cart.

  George stood up at once. “She’s alone with him?”

  Samira’s curtain of dark hair eclipsed her shoulders as she shook her head. “She’s speaking to him from the other side of the pantry door. Hendrie is standing in the hall with her. He said he’d bring her along once goodbyes were exchanged.”

  Jax relaxed her grip on the arms of her chair. Her tense reaction informed her that subconsciously, she was still leery of Ines’s intentions. “Is she really accompanying you to Zaltor?” Jax asked, turning her attention back to Edrice and Ammon.

  Ammon nodded. “Ines has no desire to set foot in Tandora ever again.”

  “I’m not sure it would even be safe for her to do so,” Edrice said with a deep frown.

  “Once word reaches Duchess Tandora that Olavo failed in his task and revealed her role in the plot,” George said, his gaze sweeping around the quiet table, “things could get ugly for his house.”

  “Should we send someone to protect his family?” Jax asked. “I’d hate for them to suffer because of his stupidity.”

  “Luckily, the only shadow my brother has cast is over me, Your Grace,” a tired voice announced from the dining hall entrance. Ines walked stiffly into the room, the newly sprouted lines on her face making her seem older than her years.

  Jax’s neck grew warm as she cursed herself for the flippant remark, but Ines held a hand up to silence any forthcoming apologies.

  “Olavo is the only family I have, and I, his. I doubt the Duchess will waste any time fretting over me. I was always a bit of a nonevent to her.” Ines
sank into the cushion of an awaiting chair, and Samira began dishing out the breakfast foods while Vita poured tea. “I think she’ll have bigger concerns than what’s become of me, don’t you think?” Ines gave Jax a curious stare.

  Jax thanked Samira for the gooey danish she placed on her plate, filled to the brim with cheese and cherries, before responding. “Regardless, I think it’s best if you remain vigilant, Lady Ines. I’d offer for you to return under the protection of the Pettraud banner with us, but I think the High Priestess and her order will be able to keep you safe.”

  Ines smiled for what seemed the first time since she’d learned of her brother’s treachery. “I have always wanted to see Zaltor, Your Grace.”

  After swallowing a hearty bite of the lemon curd danish Samira had served him, Ammon wiped his mouth with a napkin. “If all goes according to plan, Lady Ines, we’ll be able to show you much more of the continent than you probably ever bargained for.”

  “Your trip to Cetachi, you mean?” Ines inquired, leaving Jax to wonder how much the Zaltorians had shared with their new friend.

  Ammon chuckled. “Although, I suppose it could be waylaid by Duchess Jacqueline here.”

  Abra perked up, her eyes narrowing on Jax. “What do you mean by that, Brother Ammon?”

  Ammon hesitated a moment before leaning forward. “Well, if I recall the rules of engagement, the Duchess will need to summon a War Council to call for retribution from Tandora, Beautraud, and Savant for their foul deeds.” He glanced to Jax for confirmation, which she did not give. “When the Children of the Virtues took over management of the continent, they required that, should there be an egregious breach in kindness, humility, bravery, or intelligence by one or more of the duchies, a War Council was to be summoned to determine the appropriate course of action.”