Page 3
But she believed me. And she made the Rada listen to me. She ordered that all twelve members of the Rada travel to Silvera to judge Vikomt Syracen Stovia for his crimes. Even if the Captain of the Guard had not come forward and confessed what he remembered doing under the compulsion of Syracen, I knew Haydyn would not have stopped until he was punished. She was only thirteen. But I was her family. And I was not to be hurt.
I pledged my everlasting loyalty to Haydyn that day.
The Rada were disgusted by Syracen’s methods and ordered him imprisoned in Silvera Jail – a lone prisoner. He didn’t take the news well. I remember the sweat beading on his forehead and the nosebleed he sustained as he fought to break through Haydyn’s evocation. Powerful as he was, he was strong enough to reach for Haydyn to use her as a shield in order to escape. The Captain of the Guard did his duty, however, and killed the threat to the Princezna’s life. His death didn’t ease my grief. But I felt freer than I had since the death of my family.
The servants arrived and Haydyn took her leave while I helped the girls fill the bath with the hot water. Like every morning they swatted at me to stop.
“The Handmaiden of Phaedra shouldn’t be doing servants work.”
I grunted at the nickname I had been given many years ago. It made me sound like something I wasn’t.
After they were gone, I let myself wake up as I soaked in the tub, and became irritated at having lost a few hours in the day. I hurried out of the bath, towelling my long hair dry and plaiting it. It hung heavy and damp down my back, the end brushing the bottom of my spine. Quickly, I dressed; my clothing as fine as Haydyn’s; a dark rose dress of the finest velvet. I hadn’t ordered any of it from the seamstress. All my clothing was chosen by Haydyn. Haydyn loved clothes and jewellery. I put up with it because appearances within the palace had to be upheld.
“Ah good, you’re dressed.” Haydyn barged into my room without knocking. Lord Matai, second lieutenant of the Guard and a young Vikomt of good family, was Haydyn’s newest bodyguard. He hovered over her protectively even when it was just her and I.
I smiled indulgently at her behaviour and then noted the slight strain on her face. “What’s happened?”
“Nothing. I think.” She shrugged elegantly. “Jarvis and Ava have requested me in the Chambers of the Rada.”
I hid the instant worry that caused me. His Grace, Vojvoda Jarvis Rada, was the highest ranking member of the nobility of Sabithia and the Chairman of the Rada, as well as the Keeper of the Archives. Her ladyship, Grofka Ava Rada, was a widow and the only other member of the Rada who lived in Sabithia. They were both good people, and they loved Haydyn dearly. But Haydyn relied too heavily upon their opinion, and oftentimes they forgot that Haydyn even had a voice. Particularly Jarvis, whose responsibilities and position – especially that of Keeper of the Archives, the very exclusive control over mage history (meaning no one but he was allowed entrance into the archives until his demise, and then only his appointed successor would have the privilege) - had given him an inflated sense of self.
It nettled me. But it wasn’t my place to speak for her. Like a frustrated parent I wanted her to become aware of her own voice and independence by herself.
“Well then.” I threw both Haydyn and Matai a blasé smile. “We best go and see what they want.”
Chapter Two
“Ah, Princezna.” Vojvoda Jarvis stood to his feet, Lady Ava at his side. He bowed deeply whilst Ava dipped as low as she could into a curtsey. “Looking beautiful as always.” Jarvis smiled kindly at Haydyn like a doting grandfather. His eyes flicked to me and he gave me an expressionless nod. Jarvis and Ava were always uncomfortable around me. I knew it was because they were ashamed of what Syracen had done to my family.
Ours was a strained relationship.
“Your Grace.” Haydyn gave a shallow curtsey. “My Lady. I trust you are both well.”
“As well as can be, Princezna. We do not have good news, I’m afraid.”
Haydyn and I shared a worried look and I followed her as she took her seat at the head of long Chambers table. I sat on her left, facing Ava. Jarvis took the seat next to the Grofka.
“What’s wrong?” Haydyn asked quietly, afraid of the answer. I watched that gloom creep into her eyes again, and I could have sworn she swayed in her chair. I was just about to reach out for her when she seemed to shake herself awake. I withdrew my hand.
Jarvis cleared his throat, his expression grave. “I must ask first of all, Princezna, whether you are feeling well? Are you in good health?”
Like Haydyn, I was surprised by his question, and as she stammered out, “Of course.” I could have sworn she was lying.
“Why?” I asked, even though I shouldn’t. Admonishment wasn’t likely, however. Everyone was used to me.
Ava’s eyes were wide with anxiety. “Because it seems as if the evocation may be weakened somehow.”
Haydyn gasped, “Weakened? Weakened how? It can’t be. I’m projecting the evocation at full, as always.”
“We’ve been receiving reports over the last few weeks from the rest of the Rada. The most anxious of them being Vojvoda Andrei Rada, Keeper of Alvernia. The province is worsening; the uncivilised loutish behaviour of the mountain people grows steadily closer to his city in the south. He fears the people of Arrana may become contaminated by the aggression of the northerners and grows agitated by Silvera’s ‘negligence’, as he calls it.”
Haydyn threw me a concerned look. “I had no idea things were so bad.”
“There is more,” Ava told her.
“Yes,” Jarvis continued. “I’ve had word from Pharya. A rookery has sprung up on the border of Vasterya in the towns near the glass works. Gangs of thieves and smugglers are disrupting import and exportation.”
Dear havens, I had never heard the like. “Thieves? Gangs? A rookery? In Phaedra?” I was aghast. We all were. My eyes swung to Haydyn, questioning, pinning her to her seat.
She squirmed uncomfortably, her emerald eyes fearful. “Don’t look at me like that, Rogan. I don’t know what to tell you, I don’t feel a change in my magic.”
Jarvis coughed. “Lastly-”
“There’s more?” I interrupted, in shock.
This time he did throw me an admonishing look but I was too upset to apologise. “There’s more,” he acknowledged finally. “Markiza Raven Rada has her guard dealing with gypsies-”
“The Caels?” Haydyn interrupted frowning. “But the Caels have lived in Northern Javinia for decades. It’s their home.”
“Not the Caels, Princezna. The Iavii. These Alvernian gypsies are not looking for peace. They’ve already begun taking land from the Caels, and now they’ve started in on the Javinians. It’s causing tension between Javinians and the Caels, who are being held as accountable as the Iavii.”
“That’s not fair!” Haydyn cried. “The Caels are a peaceful clan.”
“They are. Were. Nothing in Javinia is peaceful. The Javinian guards are busy dealing with disputes and protecting Markiza Raven in Novia. She calls for aid.”
The magnitude of the news silenced both Haydyn and I. How quickly our beautiful world seemed to have turned in on itself.
“You’re sure you’re well, Princezna?” Ava queried again.
“Positive,” Haydyn snapped, jolting out of her seat. I watched on, as wide-eyed as Jarvis and Ava. Haydyn never spoke harshly to anyone. “I will not be questioned again.”
“Of course, Princezna. We meant no disrespect.” Jarvis’ brow furrowed deeply. I imagined my brows were just as furrowed.
Haydyn nodded, relaxing a little. “Now, what is to be done?”
You tell them, Haydyn, I wanted to say. But I didn’t. She already looked so lost and afraid.
Jarvis sighed wearily. “Well, I think before we panic, we should discover the realities of the situation for ourselves. I say we send some of the Guard to Alvernia, Vasterya and Javinia to report back their findings, before we decide upon action.”
Haydyn exhaled, seeming relieved by his suggestion. She turned to look at Matai, who stood on guard at the door. “Lord Matai, please have one of the footman fetch Captain Stovia.”
I flinched at her command and bit my lip, my heart picking up speed at the thought of Wolfe. Captain Wolfe Stovia. Vikomt Wolfe Stovia, now that his father, Syracen, was dead. A few years my senior, Wolfe had proven himself steadfast, loyal, hardworking, and a strong soldier. He was one of the youngest Captains in the history of the Guard. And I didn’t trust him one iota.
He wasn’t long in arriving. Wolfe strode into the room like his namesake. Sleek and watchful, wily and dangerous. As handsome as any man in Phaedra, the servant girls went into twittering spasms whenever he was near. It made me feel rather queasy, to be honest.
His light blue eyes washed over the room, resting on me a moment, his expression inscrutable. I was so thankful he took his looks from his mother’s side of the family. I didn’t think I could have coped with a young version of Syracen stalking the palace halls. Wolfe bowed deeply and smiled at Haydyn, almost flirtatiously. “Princezna.”
I rolled my eyes as Haydyn smiled prettily back at him. She may as well have batted her eye lashes invitingly the way her eyes looked him over. Strikingly tall, broad, a thick head of silky chestnut hair, olive skin and beautiful almond shaped eyes. His was a strong face, masculine, powerful. I disliked it greatly.
“Captain,” Haydyn sighed at him. “I need you to send some of the Guard on an errand for me.”
I watched as Wolfe listened carefully to the news, his expression tightening as he learned of our situation. “I will send nine of my best men out, your Highness. Three to each province.”
“Thank you, Captain.” Jarvis got to his feet wearily, helping Ava out of hers. “We appreciate it.”
As they were about to depart I cleared my throat, drawing their gaze as I stood. “May I suggest we keep this between us? And stress the importance of keeping this information confidential to your men… Captain,” I bit out the word.
Haydyn’s eyes widened. “Of course, Rogan is right. We don’t want to cause panic until we have all the facts.”
Wolfe nodded, but he never took his eyes from me as he smiled sardonically. “Of course, Princezna.”
I glared at him as he took his leave, followed by Jarvis and Ava.
Solemnly, Haydyn and I walked back to her suite, Matai close on our heels. I was afraid to mention what had just been discussed.
“I keep waiting for you to stop being unpleasant to Captain Wolfe.” Haydyn threw me a reproving look.
I snorted. “You’ll be waiting a loooong time then.”
“Rogan, really,” she clucked. “He’s not his father, you know.”
I shrugged. I knew Haydyn thought it was unfair of me to treat Wolfe badly but I couldn’t help it. He was a Stovia. No matter how much he ingratiated himself to Haydyn or into the Rada’s trust, he would always be my enemy. His father had taken my family and I had destroyed his in return. I was suspicious of his loyalty to Haydyn, when any normal man would have wanted vengeance for his father’s death.
Haydyn did not share the suspicion. She sighed dreamily. “I don’t understand how you can be so mean to him. He’s so handsome and strong.”
I laughed softly at Matai’s choked grunt behind us and Haydyn threw him a teasing look over her shoulder. He would take his revenge for that. We stopped at her suite and I checked the hallways both ways. It was clear. I nodded at them and Haydyn grabbed Matai’s hand, disappearing into her suite with him. I stood guard. Protecting Haydyn as always. Protecting her secrets. Protecting her love for Lord Matai. I felt a twinge of unfamiliar longing at the sound of her and Matai’s intimate laughter beyond the door. Haydyn was akin to my younger sister, and yet she knew more of that mysterious intimacy between man and woman than I did. All I ever wanted was to be a source of wisdom and support for Haydyn. How could I be when she was more worldly than I? I was nineteen and un-kissed, never mind…
I ducked my head, feeling silly and adolescent. I did not seek love; I’d never wanted it… but romance… perhaps. I shook my head. I had no time for romance. I was far too busy facilitating Haydyn with hers.
Chapter Three
“Mm,” I moaned, the sweet chocolate and fresh cream cake making my eyes flutter shut in rapture. “Cook, you’ve surpassed yourself,” I mumbled through my bites.
Cook grinned broadly, rolling out pastry as servants bustled around us in the massive kitchen. Valena giggled from her seat across from me, cream sticking to the corner of her mouth. “I swear, Rogan, the sweetest expression you ever have on your face is when you’re eating Cook’s desserts.”
I raised an eyebrow teasingly at her cheekiness and reached across to swipe the last of the cakes from her plate.
“Hey!” She leapt forward to grab it back from me but I held it out of her reach. If we had been standing face to face rather than sitting across a long table, she would have taken it easily. Valena may only be fourteen but she was extremely tall. At least five foot ten, a good three inches taller than me. “Oh don’t, Rogan.” Valena’s eyes widened as I pretended to pop the cake into my mouth. “Cook’s only made a few today.”
Cook shook her head at my teasing. “I swear it could be eight years ago with the way you act, Miss Rogan.”
“Well I wouldn’t have to act that way if you made more than just a few cakes.” I shoved the cake back to Valena, my eyes greedily watching as she scoffed it down in seconds. “Oh, you didn’t even take time to enjoy that. Sacrilege. I should have eaten it.”