“Is this true, Duchess?” Abra’s gaze commanded a response.
“My, my, Ammon, you do seem to be well-versed in political matters,” was Jax’s simple reply.
Ammon raised an eyebrow. “I’d say I was more versed in history, my lady. After all, the Ancient Faith were banished to their assigned corners of the world by the first and—to date—only War Council.”
Jax placed her fork down, reluctantly delaying the taste of the glistening pastry. “As I said when this ghastly plot was first revealed, you have all been witnesses to history, as Saphire has declared war on her offenders. Time will tell how this all unfolds.”
Edrice’s brow creased. “If you intend to follow protocol, Duchess, then Ammon and I must plan for Duke Darian Fangard to be called to this War Council. Do you know where it will take place?”
Jax shook her head. “I do not know. Once I send out the formal summonses upon our arrival in Pettraud, the sovereigns will have to decide upon a neutral place to meet.”
“Won’t that bring you back to Kwatalar?” Ferran asked, darting a questioning glance at Jax. “Our own Duchess retains her vow of neutrality.”
“Her politics may be neutral, but this land is tainted as the scene of the crime,” Jax said. “I cannot in good conscience say I will act objectively if I am forced to meet in the duchy where my life was threatened.”
Ferran deflated. “It saddens me to hear that our beautiful home is forever marred in your memory, Duchess.”
A sympathetic smile enveloped her face. “Fear not, Master Ferran, for those are only the words I will use in my summons. Strategically, it makes sense for the War Council to be hosted by one of my own allies, which is why I’ll have to dissuade my counterparts who advocate for the council to meet here. I’d rather Kwatalar be left in peace. Who knows what may happen when the leaders of all the duchies are locked in a room together…” her voice trailed off, leaving an unsettling silence to blanket the room.
With her mood growing increasingly darker, Perry seemed to realize she needed rescuing from the grim conversation. “Samira, I hear we’ll be taking some of your teas back with us?”
By now, the exotic beauty had settled into her seat. “Yes, indeed, Lord Pettraud.” Her cheeks bloomed under the attention. “The Duchess has made a most generous arrangement for delivery of my blends.”
“What’s this?” Abra’s attention whipped to her daughter. “Samira, you know that I handle the requisitions here at the Oasis.” Her words were measured, as if trying to conceal her annoyance.
“I’m sure you’ll be pleased with the outcome I negotiated.” Samira tossed a secretive smirk to the head of the table. “I think it would be best if I discussed it with you and Father after the meal concludes.”
Abra looked like she wanted to send another round of barbed questions her daughter’s way, but Vita interrupted. “Duquessa, Samira has done Saphire a great service and taught me how to bake these danish delights. I will be happy to share the recipe with your cooks when we return home.” Vita’s Savantian accent caressed her words. She was the daughter of a noble house Jax had saved from bankruptcy and had volunteered for the position of Jax’s lady’s maid to repay the debt. Even though she had only been in Jax’s service for half a year, she had already shown an affinity for knowing her Duchess’s whims and needs.
“What a treat!” Jax beamed at the dark-haired woman with immense pleasure.
“Speaking of returning home,” Ferran said, taking a moment to wipe his sweaty brow, “how long should we be prepared to host your royal delegation, Your Grace?”
In other words, when are you going to leave my family alone? Jax couldn’t help but feel sorry for the upheaval she had caused the Ogdams. Her presence here had completely changed the course of their lives. For Samira, she hoped it had been for the better, but she wasn’t yet sure how Ferran and Abra would fare. Nadir, certainly, had been the one to suffer the most, as his lover Tarek was dead, taking Jax’s place in the assassination attempt. “If Nadir is able to travel as quickly as he claimed, I hope the Pettraudian escort I’ve requested will be here in a week’s time.”
“What if your allies do not come, my lady?” Anxiety lined Ferran’s dark olive skin.
Jax opened her mouth, only to close it without answering. What would she do if Duke Pettraud failed to send aid? She hadn’t seriously considered that her father-in-law would leave her and Perry stranded in the desert. “Nadir also has instructions to send word about our misfortunes to my grandfather, the Duke of Mensina. If Pettraud refuses to rise to the challenge, Mensina will.”
“Why not just send for your Saphirian Ducal Guard?” Abra asked, a node of condescension in her tone.
As much as Jax wished everyone around the table would treat her like a normal human being, she was perturbed by Abra’s lack of respect. “I have my reasons.” Jax left no room for argument. She did not want to divulge to these people—who just three days ago had been strangers to her—that she was worried about her court. While she didn’t want to believe any of her advisors had betrayed her plans to leave the duchy, she’d rather put her trust in family and seek shelter among them before writing to her courtiers about her troubles. When she returned to Saphire with an armed guard, she’d fully assess the state of her court.
“May the gods watch over your travels, Duchess.” Edrice pushed her regal figure out of her chair and motioned to her husband. “It is time we took our leave. Ines, have you collected your things?”
Taking one last sip from her goblet, Ines nodded. “Yes, Ferran and Lord Pettraud’s valet collected the last of my luggage before I bid goodbye to Olavo.” She and Ammon rose from the table at Edrice’s command.
Ferran, too, popped up from his seat and dashed to the doorway. “I shall ensure your carriage is ready.” He disappeared, leaving the group to say their farewells.
Jax stood and approached Edrice with outstretched arms, giving her a quick, but fierce hug. “I wish you good fortune on your search for a new home. Please, remember Saphire will be there to shelter you if you need it.”
With a barely perceptible nod, Edrice kissed her cheek and moved away to say goodbye to Perry and the others.
Ammon arrived in his wife’s vacated spot, taking Jax’s hand before bowing deeply from his waist. “I am sure the gods will see us together again, Duchess. Until such a time, go in peace.”
Jax gave his hand a warm squeeze in return.
Ines curtsied low, following in the wake of the Zaltorians with only a “Good-bye, Your Grace.” Considering Jax was the sole reason Ines’s brother and only living family member sat imprisoned in a windowless pantry, Jax didn’t think anything of the cool send-off.
Abra and Samira offered to see the departing guests to the door, leaving Jax alone with Perry, George, Uma, and Vita.
“Are you sure it was wise to share so much about your plans?” George asked, stroking the shadow of stubble on his chin.
Jax’s eyes remained on the now-empty doorway. “I didn’t tell them anything they hadn’t already guessed or didn’t know. If there is to be a war, I want the Ancient Faith in our corner.”
“Why? Goodness, Jax, you’ve always been so opposed to the religion.” Perry rapped his knuckles on the back of his chair, clearly jumpy.
“It will show the people of the realm that Saphire is sincere about letting people live their lives for themselves, how they want and the way they want,” Jax explained, walking the length of the table to pick up another danish from the wooden cart Samira had tucked away in the corner. “It’s common knowledge how devout I am to the Virtues. If I am seen as a protector of the Ancient Faith, people will understand I am not out to squash their free will but to allow it to flourish.”
Doubt flashed in Perry’s lavender gaze.
“And…” Jax continued after a beat, “the Ancient Faith, while nowhere near the size of a small nation, has the potential to increase the size of our armies and entirely dwarf those of our opponents.”
&
nbsp; Uma paled. “You want the Faith to fight for you? Does their religion even allow it?”
“Of course,” Jax scoffed. “They put up a nasty fight before the Rebirth, didn’t they?” She meant her words as a joke, but she knew immediately they had not been well-received. Her companions shifted uncomfortably on their feet. “The High Priestesses have always needed protection, as their temples have been subject to persecution since before the duchies were formed. Their guardians, the Faithful, are an elite band of warriors.” Jax’s gaze locked with George’s. “I’d even wager the Ducal Guard could learn a thing or two from them.”
“Let’s hope it doesn’t come to that,” Uma squeaked, wringing her hands.
Jax opened her mouth to puncture a hole in her friend’s naivete, but decided against it. Uma deserved to be spared from the gruesome reality they were about to meet for as long as possible.
Hendrie appeared just then, his head of straw-colored hair swiveling around as he took in the relatively empty room. “Did Ines and the Zaltorians already take off?” A wrinkle of worry creased his pale forehead.
Perry gave his valet—and friend—of many years a half-hearted wave. “You just missed them.”
“I’m not surprised. Lady Ines certainly seemed ready to be done with this place.” Hendrie folded his arms as he leaned against the stone wall. “Can’t say as I blame her.”
Jax grabbed another danish off the cart and glided to Hendrie’s side with the offering. Due to their different social statuses, Hendrie had always been a bit wary of Jax, as most common-born people might be to a Duchess. In the two-and-a-half years she’d known him, his attitude had only mildly defrosted, and she was constantly looking for ways to make him feel at ease with her. “Is something the matter? Samira said you escorted Ines to say goodbye to her brother.”
Hendrie graciously took the pastry from her hands and took a massive bite before answering. “What a fond farewell that was. Although, it was satisfying to listen to Ines really lay into Olavo for his crimes, considering he spent so much of his time berating her.”
“Did Olavo respond?”
“Oh, just that he was sorry, he was a fool, he truly didn’t know what the Duchess intended.” Hendrie pushed his flaky hair out of his brown eyes. “I did hear something that left me unsettled. Just as she was walking away, Ines spat back over her shoulder to the pantry door that she was glad Duchess Saphire was smart enough to see through Tandora’s hairbrained scheme. Otherwise, Olavo would be in much deeper hot water than he already is.”
Jax inclined her head. “What’s so unsetting about that?”
“It’s not what Ines said, it’s how Olavo responded.” Hendrie glanced nervously at his companions. “I don’t think he knew I was still standing watch. I figured Olavo might let his guard down after his sister’s verbal beating.”
George strode over and patted the young man on the shoulder. “Good thinking.”
“What did you hear?” Jax pressed.
“Olavo started whimpering to himself, and it took him a few minutes to regain his composure. Once he did, he muttered a prayer to the Virtues.” Hendrie closed his eyes, as if trying to recall it word for word. “He said, ‘Virtues, I know I allowed myself to be governed with wool pulled over my eyes. I don’t want to be involved in this mess any more than I already am, but I’ve never known the Duchess to not have a backup plan, should the first one fail. I pray I don’t unknowingly have my fingerprints all over an alternate plan to rid the realm of Duchess Saphire’.”
Chapter Four
Olavo’s prayer loomed in the back of Jax’s mind over the following days. Despite having the entire resort to themselves, the Saphire party was subdued and somber, each preoccupied with their own anxious thoughts about the future. When Nadir arrived on horseback at sundown five days after his initial departure, Jax, George, and Perry were the first to greet him.
“I’m glad to see your gods have delivered you safely back home, Nadir,” Jax said as she watched the tall, lanky man unsaddle his mount.
Nadir escorted the horse into its stable and secured the wooden gate before turning to face her with a sweeping bow. The hem of his robes brushed across the straw-covered floor of the estate’s spacious carriage house. “Their favor has brought me here much quicker than I ever expected. You’ll be pleased to know, Your Grace, the Pettraudian escort you requested is not far behind.”
“When will they arrive?” George asked, leaning against one of the stone pillars supporting the clay roof overhead.
“By midday tomorrow, at the latest. The Captain of the Ducal Guard has been pushing his soldiers to make haste.”
Perry’s eyebrows drew together. “My father sent his Captain to escort us?” He sent Jax a questioning look. She, too, was surprised Duke Pettraud would send his most elite protector away from his side. A sovereign usually kept their top officer close at hand.
Nadir shrugged as he took in a deep breath. He had obviously ridden hard to get here. “I delivered your message to the Duke, and the Captain was the one who came to collect me the next morning to lead the way back.”
Jax beckoned Nadir to follow her away from the carriage house and to the main part of the villa. She’d asked Abra and Ferran to let her speak with their son first upon his arrival. Ferran obliged immediately, launching into another round of profusive thanks for the generous tea delivery payment. Abra, on the other hand, regarded her with a somewhat frosty manner. Jax knew the woman and her family had been abused by nobility for far too long to put aside her prejudices overnight, but Jax hoped she was beginning to win Abra over. Jax figured delivering Abra’s son safely into her arms might be another way to chip at the icy wall between them. “You look positively beat, Nadir. Your parents are inside, waiting for you.”
The young man obediently followed her, with Perry and George flanking his every move. “I don’t have much else to report, Your Grace, other than that the missive you asked me to send to your grandfather is on its way. Duke Pettraud assured me it would be delivered in three days’ time.”
Jax’s fists clenched with satisfaction. “Excellent. With any luck, we’ll be able to leave Pettraud and meet my grandfather in Saphire within a fortnight.”
“Did you have a long audience with the Duke?” Perry asked Nadir, clasping his hands eagerly behind his back. “How is my father?”
Nadir tossed an apologetic grimace over his shoulder. “I’m afraid I didn’t spend much time in His Excellency’s company. One of the courtiers told me the Duke was feeling a bit under the weather, so my audience with him was quite brief. Once I delivered Duchess Jacqueline’s message, I was shown a guestroom, and the Captain roused me the next morning to depart.”
Perry’s brow furrowed. “Under the weather? Is he all right?”
Jax shared her husband’s concern.
“He seemed in good spirits, despite being troubled by the news I shared,” Nadir replied. “I’m sorry, I don’t know much more.”
“It is I who should be apologizing, putting you through all these hurdles after everything you’re dealing with.” Jax stopped in her tracks and placed a comforting hand on Nadir’s heavy shoulder.
The sunset glowed in his haunted amber eyes, the echoes of sadness and loss still apparent. “It’s been good for me to stay preoccupied, Duchess. It keeps the demons of despair away.”
Her throat tightened at his words, recalling the crippling sorrow she’d learned to live with after her parents died. “I hope you find solace in the Faith. Eventually, you will begin to let happiness back into your life and your heart.”
Nadir broke away from her intense gaze, closing his eyes. “Perhaps happiness may find me through life’s simple pleasures, but I can’t imagine loving anyone ever again like I did Tarek.”
“You won’t,” Jax said, drawing a look of surprise from Nadir. She gave him a tiny smile. “We all love and are loved differently. The love you shared with Tarek is gone. But do not despair. A new love may find its way into your life again. It
will not be the same, no, but it might make you happy. And Tarek would want that for you, after everything you’ve had to sacrifice.”
Nadir clasped her hands, bowing his head in wordless thanks. He was silent for a moment before he slipped away and followed the path up to the villa, where his parents waited eagerly on the front steps.
Perry came to her side. “Wise words of comfort, my love.”
“Are you surprised?” Jax raised an eyebrow, although her tone was still somber.
“No.” Perry draped an arm over her shoulder, pulling her into his chest. “He is young. You gave him hope that this ugliness will eventually pass.”
Jax leaned into him, inhaling his scent. “There is always hope for love.” She kissed his blushing cheek before pulling away from his grasp. He winked at her and followed Nadir’s sandy footprints back to the villa.
If I didn’t believe that myself, who knows where we would all be. Jax’s attention wandered over to George, who stood a few feet away with his back to her as he surveyed the sunset-drenched landscape. Her prophetic words were more than just about her acceptance of an arranged engagement that had eventually blossomed into love and respect between her and Perry. At nineteen, when Jax had tried unsuccessfully to convince the twenty-six-year-old George Solomon to run away with her, she’d been devastated, telling herself that she’d never fall in love again, that she’d never experience a love as deep as the one she’d had for George, especially since he’d revealed he secretly harbored feelings for her as well. While Jax had not lost him to something as cruel and finite as death, to her younger self, society’s restrictions and their duty to Saphire had felt like a guillotine severing her heart. Rarely did a Duchess get to marry for love. Her heart was governed by her nation. Yet, when she’d met Perry, she’d kept her heart open to hope, and she was ever so glad she did.
“It’s encouraging to hear Duke Pettraud acted so quickly.” Having turned around to face her, George’s comment pulled her focus out of her foggy daydreams and to his wearied expression.
Burdened Bloodline Page 5