Fantasy of Fire (The Tainted Accords Book 3) (8 page)

“Why did you show the leader your face?” he asks, jaw ticking.

I shrug. “It was the only way to prevent war.”

His eyes are narrowed. Oddly, I’m much more comfortable dealing with annoyed Jovan. “Do I need to kill him?” he asks.

If anyone else said this I’d think they were joking. “No.” I frown. “I know the consequences of what I did. And I trust Adox. As much as you can trust anyone.”

He grunts at this and resumes his pacing for several minutes. I can see him trying to process everything I’ve said. Hidden people, flying, halted army, Olina sighted. I bet he’s still wondering if he needs to kill the Ire’s leader.

He stops in front of me with a long, drawn-out sigh. “You have a plan?”

I sigh. “Not really.”

He moves to brush my hair back from my face. I recall who we are just in time to jerk back. His hand curls into a fist and he lowers it to his side.

I avoid his gaze, and in doing so I see little things I’ve missed. The circles under his eyes. The tightness in his shoulders.

I move to place my hand on his, but pull it back. Tiredness is lowering my guard. “How have you been?” I ask.

He looks up warily. I know he doesn’t like to share his thoughts. It’s one thing we have in common. Actually, one of many traits we share. “I saw your men camped in the First Sector. They saw me flying.”

He rolls his head around on his shoulders. “You’re lucky they didn’t shoot you down.”

I stare at him and wait.

He glares and takes the hint. “Yes, they marched two days after you left for the … Ire.”

My blinks are getting longer. “What are we going to do?” I ask wearily.

“We?” he asks. I narrow my eyes at the humor in his voice.

“Yes. What are you, as the king of Glacium, and me, as the Tatuma of Osolis, going to do about this?” I can tell he wants to smile, but he doesn’t. He leans forward and taps a finger against my lips. It’s distracting beyond all reason. I swat him away, before giving in to temptation and risking a look at his mouth. I bite back a groan when I see it’s just the same—smooth and hard all at once.

When I look up, his gaze is steeled. I pull back, confused.

“I think the best course of action is to wait to see what the army does with the delay.” He resumes his pacing. “It sounds as though there’s a good chance they’ll be forced to turn around. There’s really nothing else we can do with the pathway destroyed anyway.”

“I agree. But I also know my mother won’t stop. Not now she’s so openly declared herself. She won’t be thwarted by those she deems beneath her. I also fear for the Ire folk. I assured Adox we would do our best to protect them,” I say, standing up from where I lean on the table.

Jovan waves a hand. “Of course, of course.” I knew Jovan wouldn’t let the Ire down. I was right to trust him.

He stops in front of me. “What are you smiling at?” he asks. I’m startled and blank my face.

“I’ll be happy to assure the Ire of our alliance when they arrive to give their report in a week.” I cover my slip.

“I will meet them when they come.” This is within Adox’s request. I nod, forcing my eyes to stay open as they become blurry with sleep. This time I don’t catch his hand before it grasps my chin in a gentle grip.

“What were you really smiling at?” he asks. I shake my head and close my eyes.

“You need sleep, Olina.”

“Yes,” I mumble.

“Preferably not while you’re upright,” he grumbles. I roll my eyes at him. I’ve only done that once. Maybe twice.

“I’ll sleep once I talk to Landon,” I say. I want to check how my brother’s been coping during my absence.

“You may see him once you’ve rested,” Jovan orders. My eyelids snap open at his demanding voice.

A crease forms between my eyebrows as our gazes lock. The tension becomes unbearable and then somehow, it changes to something more. But there’s still that hardness in his gaze. Why is that there? I need to say something. I need to tell him nothing can happen between us. I even thought about what I could say, that I don’t think I’ll ever have a normal relationship. That’s my life. The only man who is strong enough to handle my destiny, is the one man I can never have. If I’m somehow able to rule Osolis, our subjects will never stand for a relationship between us. If I
can’t
rule, it will be because everyone knows I’m half-Bruma and Jovan’s people will raise hell. We’re stuck either way.

“Do you fear me now?” he asks in a hoarse voice, startling me.

“What?” I ask, shock sharpening my voice.

“For what happened after the ball.” His jaw clenches. Is this why he’s acting strange?

My face warms as I understand we’re having
this
conversation. I’d identified my attraction to Jovan soon after returning from the Outer Rings. I guess I’d been too sad about Kedrick to notice him before. The night of the First Sector ball we both drank enough to forget ourselves. The next morning I’d run to the Ire with Crystal, afraid of what I felt for Jovan, and afraid of what he’d unleashed in me. I’d been determined to forget him for the good of everyone.

He still grips my face and I can’t say a word. Embarrassment twists my tongue.

“I was so patient. So careful with you,” he says softly. “But my control slipped that night. I’m older, and more experienced. I shouldn’t have taken advantage of you.” He’s breathing hard when he finishes. His hand releases my chin and he steps back. “Please accept my apologies, if you can.”

His words turn over in my stunned mind. I struggle to understand them at first. But eventually the meaning becomes clear. I tilt my head in bewilderment. He’s got it all wrong. I won’t have him shoulder the blame for both of us.

“Y-you think you took advantage of me?” I ask, shocked to believe he could think so. But he was nearly five years older, so I can see how he’d come to the ridiculous conclusion.

His eyes are dark as they rest on me.

I shake my head again. “If anything, it was the other way around.”

Jovan throws his head back in uproarious laughter. I listen to him battle for breath, enjoying the rare sound. I don’t understand why he’s laughing, but that’s not unusual for me here.

“How do you figure that?” he says. “You were inexperienced. You should have been courted, not taken to bed after one kiss.”

My whole being wants to get out of here. This isn’t a conversation I ever wanted to have. With anyone! There’s not even a thread to pick on my flying suit to distract me. “Jovan, we were drunk,” I mumble, surveying the floor. “We forgot our stations because of our … mutual attraction,” I force out, cringing. “I knew what my actions would lead to. I wanted them to lead to …
that
. And I didn’t run because I was afraid of you, or felt disrespected. Things here are so different from Osolis. I’m aware of that and I can handle it.” I meet his eyes for the first time, begging him to see the truth there.

“Then why did you run from me?” he asks in low voice.

It strikes me for the first time that I’ve hurt him terribly. The realization is oddly painful. “I thought to give us time to regain the proper distance expected of two opposing rulers. I refuse to put myself at risk of repeating my mother’s mistake.”

His expression is blank. I can’t glean anything from it.

I give him an exasperated look, trying to figure him out. “There can be nothing between us! You know this …”

It’s tense and deadly silent. I close my eyes so I don’t have to see his horrible, hard face.

He moves to the second exit. It leads back into the hallway. “I think it’s best if you rest. We can discuss these updates more completely when you’re refreshed.” I walk up to him, avoiding his penetrating gaze. Times like these, when he’s closed down, I have to convince myself he was smiling moments before.

He grabs my arm as I squeeze past him. “I’m sorry that you have any cause to regret what we shared. The night was one of the best of my life.” His words are a statement. He enjoyed what we shared. I smile down at his hand on mine, unreasonably happy at his words. He’s reassured some small insecurities I had from our night together. He puts a hand on the wall by my head, caging me.

I crane my neck to peek up at him in the doorway, deciding to set one matter straight before I close this matter for good. “I never said I regretted what we shared. It just can’t happen again,” I say. I congratulate myself on getting the hard words out. “For what it’s worth …” I look down again. “I’m happy it happened with you.”

Something sparks in his piercing blue eyes. I move between his eyes, trying to understand the sudden energy in his face. The tension is at overwhelming levels now. He opens his mouth to speak again, but I dart under his arm.

“You should get some sleep as well,” I call over my shoulder.

I wake late during the next day. I’m back in the drab “dungeon” room from my first stay. It’s not that bad, really, but it pales in splendor compared to the room adjoining the king’s, where I stayed as Frost. I miss the comfort and space of the prettier room. But I can imagine the talk if I moved back there as Olina.

Looking around the stone walls, I notice how bare it is. Where are Olandon’s belongings? I swing my feet onto the cold floor and hurry through washing and dressing. A long bath can wait until evening.

Four guards stand to attention as I stride out of the door. I recognize one of them instantly.

“Wrath!” I say, and kick myself mentally.

Wrath looks at me curiously as the others share a look. He sees their confusion and shifts uncomfortably.

“Tatuma Olina,” he addresses me. “I don’t go by that name anymore. Please call me Warren.” I bite my lip under the veil. Warren … a dependable, stable name. Just like the man before me. It’s still weird.

“I apologize, Warren. I’m glad you are one of my guards. I’ve heard your fighting ability would rival many of our best on Osolis.” One of the watchmen snorts. I turn my attention on him.

“Is something the matter, watchman?” I ask. He looks down at me with contempt in his gaze. The man to his left elbows him.

“No, Tatuma, nothing is the matter.” I step up to him.

“Then you’d do well to be respectful in my presence. I’m sure the king demands nothing less than the utmost professionalism.” I let my words hang in the air. Most of the castle Bruma are accustomed to me now, but clearly not everyone.

The contempt is still there, but he drops his eyes. “Understood, Tatuma Olina.”

Lunch is in full swing as I pass through the archway, veil in place. I relax at the familiar sight of the food hall, with its beamed ceilings and stone walls. Large tapestries hang from the walls—a new addition since I was last here. Had my complaint to Jovan about the dullness of this castle sparked this change? The tapestries are extraordinary, running from the ceiling, most of the way to the floor. It must have taken years and many hands to undertake such a task. I trip as another thought occurs to me. Did Arla organize all this finery? Was she trying to get her claws into Jovan again?

Predictably, the assembly quiets when I enter. I am so used to this now, it hardly bothers me. I grab a plateful of food and head to the delegates’ table.

“Where is everyone?” I ask Jaquiline. She’s the wife of one of the delegates, Roman.

She barely lifts her head. “In the First Sector, protecting us from
your
people.” She turns away. I rock back, surprised by the venom in her tone. The woman welcomed me, had stuck up for me from the start. She’d been upset with me since my return from the Outer Rings. I would’ve thought she’d be over her anger by now.

“Oh, shut up, Jacky. You sound like an idiot,” Fiona snaps. She moves around the table to hug me. Fiona’s anger surprises me nearly as much. I wasn’t gone that long, was I? Why is everyone out of sorts?

“I’m glad you’re back safe. Jovan announced you’ve delayed your mother’s army indefinitely. Everyone’s so grateful to you,” Fiona says.

“More like suspicious,” Jacquiline murmurs.

Fiona stamps her foot. “Just piss off, why don’t you?” My eyebrows shoot upward. Fiona just swore!

Jacky looks up from her meal, glaring at the pair of us. She stands, and marches off to another table.

“I’ve never seen you so mad before,” I say. Has Jacky done something to her?

Sanjay’s usually gentle wife throws herself onto the bench beside me. “I shouldn’t have lost my temper, I suppose. She’s just been so mean lately. And I don’t know why. She’s been hanging around with Arla more and more, too. She used to
hate
her! And she’s so nasty about … well, you,” she admits. “And I’m pregnant.”

“What!” I exclaim after digesting all the information all at once. “Congratulations!” I give her another hug. “You and Sanjay must be so happy.” I expect her smile to grow. But it fades instead. To my horror, tears well in her light blue eyes. Fiona could bring down an army with her sadness. She’s so tender-hearted you immediately want to cherish her. She shifts her blonde hair forward to hide her tears from the rest of the assembly.

“Sanjay says he’s happy about it. But I think he’s lying. He’s grown so distant, Olina. I don’t know what’s wrong! It feels like everyone here has changed. I’m so glad you’re back,” she sobs.

“Remember, we’re on the brink of war.” I squeeze her hand softly. “Sanjay’s mood might be no more than his worry about keeping his new family safe.” I’m glad to see my words have the desired effect. Sanjay loves Fiona. I can’t imagine them apart.

“I never thought of that,” she says happily.

“The tapestries are a new addition,” I note in an attempt to distract her.

She latches on to the topic. “Yes! Aren’t they beautiful? They were the king’s mothers. It took us forever to get them up! But it would probably take more effort to get them back off the wall, I think.”

Someone weighs down the bench beside me. “I must talk with the Tatuma,” a low voice says. Fiona dips into an immediate curtsey, leaving immediately.

“That was rude.” I stab my pear with a knife.

The king ignores my comment. “I want you to join my council.”

I choke on a piece of the fruit. “What on Solis for? Your advisors will …”

His eyes glint with mischief. “Hate it? I don’t care. You have the best ties to the Ire, and the most recent information. You also possess fighting skill. You’ll be a valuable asset,” he finishes.

I swallow my pear and lick my fingers. An asset, huh? “I’ll get back to you on that,” I say.

His silence is gratifying.

“Joining my advisory is an honor, Olina,” he states. His voice hasn’t changed, but I know he’s angry. I grin and pat his hand.

“Keep your fur on. I was joking. You Bruma have no sense of humor,” I say with a sigh.

“That’s the first and last time I’ll ever hear a Solati say that,” he says dryly. I chuckle and then remember a question I had from last night.

“Why is Blaine on your council?” I ask. Jovan picks up a slice of my pear and eats it.

He makes a questioning sound in the back of his throat. “He was one of my father’s most trusted advisors, after Rhone and Drummond. He was an advisor before I exiled him, too.”

“It doesn’t worry you … that you exiled him and he’s regained his position so easily?” I ask. Jovan’s posture tightens.

“My father trusted him implicitly. There’s no reason to suspect otherwise,” he says.

My instincts won’t allow me to be so trusting. “I don’t know if I’d be so forgiving,” I say quietly.

“Lucky you’re not king, then.” He stands. “Meeting room after you finish.”

I sit, simmering for a time at Jovan’s dismissal. There must be more to Blaine’s return than Jovan’s letting on.There’s no way he could just forgive everything Blaine had done on Osolis so easily. Was there? A familiar laugh sounds from across the room. The noise tugs a reluctant smile from me. I get up from the now-empty table and cross the room to my brother. He’s laughing with Ashawn. Not something I thought I’d ever see.

I shake off disappointment at Jovan’s cold treatment. This is what I’d asked for; a distance appropriate for our station. I wasn’t going to ask him to change that, so I wouldn’t voice my complaints. This is what I wanted.

“Brother,” I say in greeting.

“Tatuma. I was just on my way to see you.” He bows and then hugs me. I blink at his affection. To say Olandon was shocked when he found out about my blue eyes was an understatement. And then everything moved so quickly after Jimmy warned us of the army’s approach that there wasn’t enough time to talk at length. Olandon seemed to take the news well at the time, but I hadn’t been entirely sure about what reception I’d get from him.

“You look well,” I say as I hold my brother at arm’s length. It’s harder than it used to be. He’s grown much since our time on Osolis together. I’m relieved to see he’s gained more weight still from his near-lethal crossing of the Oscala. Goosebumps rise on my arms as I feel the fear of almost losing him anew.

“I am well,” he says with a smile. He means it.

“Someone’s been looking after him,” Ashawn calls out. A table of women next to us burst into giggles. I watch with interest as my brother shifts on his feet.

“Indeed,” I say. I’m unsure what to make of that comment.

Olandon folds his hands behind his back. “Sister, I must talk with you.”

I groan at the timing. This is what I’ve been waiting for—Olandon’s report. He has news on mother, my people, and on her plans, I know it. He’d only given me the bare minimum so far, gravely ill from his Oscala crossing. I grimace. If I skip it, I wouldn’t put it past Jovan to carry me in there over his shoulder. I’d rather retain my dignity. “Of course, Landon. I’m impatient to hear of it,” I admit. “But King Jovan wishes me to sit in on the council session.”

He bows. “I will find you after.” Something has changed in him since my time spent destroying the pathway.

“You are more relaxed,” I venture.

He nods, reflecting. “I am. I’ve found Ashawn to be interesting enough. I decided I should make the best of this hovel while I’m here. It will make the time until we’re home pass all the more quickly.” I hum in the back of my throat, displeased with his words. Sadly, this is progress.

“The king has asked me to join his advisory,” I confide. Olandon’s expression doesn’t change, but he leans in to me.

“That can be no bad thing. You will be able to see the inner workings of their councils. It might prove useful.” He speaks quietly, for only me to hear.

I frown at his words as I leave for the meeting room. Olandon has many great qualities. But he is Solati through and through, and perhaps a bit too much under my mother’s thumb, though he’d always resisted her command when it came to me.

The council room is still filling up when I arrive. The old advisors take their seats around the stone circle. It was where the king first interrogated me, and now I was on his council. I stand awkwardly to one side of the circle table, unsure of where to sit. Mother only let me attend a few of her sessions with the Satums, always trying to keep me in ignorance of her rulings. Apart from my thorough knowledge of our histories and my experience in the spotlight, I really know nothing of leading my people. This will be a good opportunity to learn.

Jovan strides into the room with Roscoe and Drummond in tow. Drummond is unhappy.

“Be seated. There is much to discuss,” Jovan commands. I stay where I am, waiting to see where everyone else sits. I lean against the table and cross my arms, eager to convey confidence despite my uncertainty. Roscoe looks up and sees my predicament. He whispers in Jovan’s ear.

“Tatuma Olina, welcome. Please take a seat next to Roscoe,” he instructs. The man next to Roscoe splutters in outrage. I imagine Blaine’s eyes are glittering too. He’ll also be displaced. Jovan ignores his men, obviously in no doubt the men will obey his order, despite their fury.

“I’ve invited the Tatuma to join my advisory for the duration of her stay on Glacium,” he says. He looks around the room expectantly. But it appears they advisors have been struck into shocked silence.

Eventually one rouses himself enough to voice his opinion. “You’ve invited a
Solati
to join the council?” This unleashes the predictable torrent of complaints.

“She’ll run straight to the Tatum!”

Jovan sits back and lets them have their say. But one comment catches his attention.

“This is preposterous! What would your father think?” a red-cheeked man shouts.

The king stands, fists on the stone table before him. “Might I remind you, Yate, that I am king—not my father. I strive to do my best to his memory, but you will remember who holds the throne. The Tatuma has graciously agreed to help us. She’s the most informed of us all.” He sits back down and gestures me to his right. I plant my feet.

“With respect, King Jovan, I will be sitting here.” I point to the seat in front of me. The one directly opposite him. It had occurred to me I wanted to assert my position here. I wasn’t one of Jovan’s men. I was the Tatuma of Osolis. And though it was unlikely I could rule, if I did, this would make me the king’s equal. I would sit opposite him, instead of displacing his own men and creating bad will.

Jovan studies me in that quiet, dangerous way of his.

“As you wish.” He gives a slight bow and I take my seat, straight-backed in the hard chair.

“I’m about to tell you something that will be difficult to believe. But for those of you who saw the young boy fly into the food hall last week, perhaps it won’t overly stretch your imaginations,” Jovan begins. “Do not make comment until I finish.”

This ought to be interesting. I only wish Blaine wasn’t about to hear all of this.

“The Tatuma has discovered a race of people living among the isles of the Great Stairway. They call themselves the Ire. They’ve survived on the floating islands for many generations using flying contraptions, called Soars. The boy you saw knew the Tatuma and came to warn her. This is how we learned of the Tatum’s betrayal.” Several of the men look my way to see how I’m taking this comment. Don’t they realize I hate my mother? I take no offense to Jovan’s words.