Second Stone (2 page)

CHAPTER TWO

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The feast was vastly different than any Emariya had attended in Eltar, and she had attended many. In Eltar, feasts consisted of the heads of the closest estates and the Great Council gathering around great long tables cloaked in crisp linens. The tables lining the edge of the room would overflow with platters of duck, venison, and other common fare. On truly special occasions, the meal included the rare treat: fish. Friends and neighbors would mingle happily, enjoying hearty food and wholesome company.

Torian led her to the front of the grand feast hall while Emariya tried to take in the impressive display. Twenty heavy tables dominated the center of the room, and were flanked by iron benches on both sides. Ornate candlesticks placed in perfect pairs graced each table, adding their flickering glow to the light radiating from the sconces on the stone walls. Despite the room being adorned in exquisite finery, only a few tables boasted any food. At the head of the room, three additional tables waited. The sturdy tables to the sides proudly held the weight of heavy silver covered platters. Emariya assumed the food was inside. A guard stood watch by each table, discouraging any who might approach. While the food was heavily guarded, the wine flowed freely from the vats at the back of the hall. A crowd had formed around the slender serving girls trusted to the task of keeping goblets full.

Dominating the front of the room, the table of honor waited. The king and queen had already taken their places behind the intricate jeweled goblets and fine linens illuminated by several candles in gilded holders. The king proudly watched Torian and Emariya approach while Queen Arwen maintained her bored expression. Terin, Torian’s dark-haired, light-hearted sister perched daintily in the seat beside her mother. Not knowing she would be gaining a sister when she first made the journey to meet Torian, Emariya had found Terin a fantastic and welcome surprise.

Torian pulled out a plush velvet padded chair two places away from his father. The rest of the guests started towards the tables, but remained standing.

“My Lady,” Torian said as he finished pulling out her chair.

Heat crept into her cheeks as she took her place at the table. While today he used the title in its formal and expected manner, she knew he often meant it as more of an endearment. Torian considered her his Lady, and his love. Neither of them were fooling themselves into thinking they had anything other than a long road ahead of them. They could not wed until they knew more about the prophecy of the Stones. As much as she did truly want her father to be present, it was only an excuse to give them the time they needed to learn more. She did hope that someday they could honor the promise they offered today. Be it genuine love for Torian or the pull of the Stones, Emariya had accepted the unavoidable fact that her place was beside him.

Torian took his place next to her and the room erupted into temporary chaos as the guests clambered toward their seats. Servants distributed heavenly smelling plates of food. Silverware clanked against platters, men cheered, and women abandoned all pretense of shushing their young as food filled empty bellies and wine loosed restrained tongues.

“This would not have been possible were it not for you, my dear.” From the other side of Torian, King Dellas smiled down his slightly crooked nose. While she wanted to protest out of propriety, she could not argue that the fact was true. While in the back of her mind she worried that Reeve might not send the food they’d agreed upon, Torian felt it would be best to celebrate their impending union by sharing some of the fine food. The citizens would expect no less in return for their prince marrying a daughter of Eltar than one of Thalmas’s own eligible maidens.

“Why do they not serve themselves?” Emariya couldn’t resist asking as a servant delivered her meal. The sweet roll before her steamed pleasantly, enticing her stomach with a delicious, yeasty aroma. She would have preferred the people serve themselves, freeing up the servants to enjoy the feast as well.

Leaning across her husband, Queen Arwen answered, “To ensure each gets their fair share, and only their fair share, of course.”

Flooded with embarrassment, Emariya looked down at her plate. It hadn’t occurred to her that they must guarantee there was enough for everyone. Growing up in Eltar, food was the one thing they always had in abundance. Now she was more determined than ever to make Reeve honor their alliance.

She had just lifted her fork when the first of many in a constant stream of well-wishers approached. The line blossomed to the right of the royal table, growing around the room as unhindered as a rampant vine. Emariya put down her fork, resigned to not being able to eat her meal. She accepted the welcome the man offered and turned her attention to the next guest in line.

While Emariya strained to hear the greeting of an elderly gentleman, a tender scene caught her eye. A young mother shared her plate with two small children. Inspired, Emariya gestured to the nearest guard, one of the many that never seemed to be far from her and Torian. “Would you please take this to that woman there?” The guard obediently rushed off carrying her plate.

“Still sharing your food, I see,” the next woman in line said in a familiar voice.

“Addie!” Emariya sprang out of her chair as the nearby guards looked at her in alarm. They stepped closer, poised to take the woman away with the slightest indication from the royal table. As Emariya leaned over the table to give the woman a warm hug, they stepped back to their assigned places. “Torian, this is Addie and her husband. They shared their meal and company with us while I was on my way here from Eltar.”

“Oh yes. My Lady, I’ve heard much about your kindness. Well met.” Torian smiled.

While Torian’s hands guided Emariya back to her seat, she said, “I can’t believe you traveled this far.”

“Well, in truth, I just wanted to see for my own eyes if I had truly shared bread with our new princess.” The woman gave Emariya a kind smile as she reached beneath her cloak. “Your Highness, you told me that in your home, guests contribute to the meal.” She offered Emariya a tiny brown sack.

Taking it, Emariya felt tiny nuts rattling together beneath the burlap. “Thank you, Addie. That means a lot to me.” She watched as the woman shuffled off after a final wave.

“You can’t eat those,” Torian whispered in her ear.

Emariya turned, raising a questioning eyebrow. “Why not?”

“Because while you may like Addie, we cannot afford to trust anyone. What if they were poisoned?” His light gray eyes were heavy with seriousness.

Reluctantly Emariya nodded, setting the little packet on the table. She spared only a brief moment to mourn for the naïve girl she had been. Once, not long ago, she would have dismissed his warning as overcautious and eaten them anyway. But after being betrayed by her brother, trust was not a commodity she could spare. It was easier to hide behind suspicion rather than let another she called a friend bring her harm.

Several more guests came and went. Each wished her well. The children seemed intimidated by her. The men grinned at Torian approvingly after kissing her hand. The women wished her luck and patience. From the other end of the table, Emariya overheard a guest remark to Queen Arwen that her niece had grown to be as beautiful as Her Majesty. The guest concluded by saying that Terin’s mother would have been proud, The Three bless her soul.

Confused, Emariya turned to Torian with a questioning glance.

“Later,” he mouthed.

Emariya was still looking at Torian when he stiffened, looking past her to the guest next in line. Turning to survey the newcomer, Emariya’s heart sputtered beneath her hand as she recoiled back in her chair, bringing her arms up reflexively in front of her chest. Awful memories surged back. A lingering ache flared in her shoulder as it recalled past pain. Her fingers tightened into clenched fists before she forced herself to relax. She didn’t even bother to fake a smile.

Beside her, Torian propelled himself out of his chair, grabbing Emariya’s hand and tugging until she stood, as well. Torian stepped forward while guiding her behind him. Torian commanded his guards to take the man who’d abducted her into custody at once. From her position of safety behind Torian’s back, Emariya glared. Why had he come?

“Wait, please. Wait!” Leil begged. He held his dirt-covered hands out in front of him, making a show of not resisting as well as of not being armed. He wore the same ragged clothes as when she’d last seen him, but they were clean, and he’d attempted a rough shave, as well. “Please, Milady. Just hear what I have to say.”

“You will address her as Her Highness, not that you’ve any right to dare to address her at all,” Torian said, his shoulders tensed.

“Do you wish to hear what he has come to say, my dear?” Dellas asked from his seat at the table.

Despite herself, she did.

At Dellas’s command, the guards escorted Leil from the feast hall toward Torian’s study under the watchful eyes of curious guests. Their nervous chatter quieted quickly when Dellas spoke.

“Good people of Thalmas!” Dellas paused, looking out into the room.

Beside him, still shielded by Torian’s protective stance, Emariya watched the king’s hand tremble before he began again.

“My son and his bride-to-be will be leaving at once for Sheas. May we wish them fair skies, mild weather, and good haste in returning with Lord Warren. By the will of the Stones, may they return safely.”

A chorus of, “By the will of the Stones, let it be so,” reverberated throughout the room.

With a guard on either side and Queen Arwen on his arm, King Dellas led the processional out of the hall. Terin was just behind her parents, followed by Torian and Emariya.

“Lady Warren, tend to your visitor, but I’ll have a word with you in my chambers before you leave.” Without pausing for her to offer her agreement—not that she would think to dissent—the king retreated down the dimly lit corridor, his black cloak waving farewell behind him.

“You don’t have to talk to Leil, you know,” Torian told her.

Taking a deep breath, Emariya shook her head. “No, if I don’t hear it for myself, I will always wonder, and it will trouble me. If I face him, I will know, and he can trouble me no more.”

Torian’s handsome face remained clouded with worry, but he let out a deep sigh. His shoulders eased into acceptance. “I’m coming with you.”

Emariya tightened her own fingers in response to Torian’s firm squeeze on her hand. Together, they hurried toward Torian’s formal study, where they would give audience to Leil’s words away from prying ears. The two guards posted outside the doorway tilted their heads respectfully. She wasn’t sure she would ever grow accustomed to having so many guards around at all times. Still, she understood its necessity.

On her journey to Castle Ahlen from her home in Eltar, she had been abducted twice. Her first abduction had come by a rogue band of men that called themselves Separatists, led by the same man who’d killed Emariya’s mother. Because she was a Second Stone—the child of Roth and Warren Cornerstones—and he was of the Ahlen Cornerstone lineage, Emariya and Torian carried all three bloodlines between them. Knowing the Separatists would never abandon their quest to keep her and Torian apart, she was grateful for the constant presence of the guards.

The second time she had been abducted had been on her own brother’s orders. Reeve had sent Khane to spy on her and keep her on the course he had intended for her. When she sought to abandon her journey to Castle Ahlen, Khane interfered. Working closely with Reeve, Khane set a plan in motion to have Emariya taken to Torian by force. Leil, along with two other men, had snatched her away from her companions to transport her to Castle Ahlen. Even though he had been her closest thing to an ally among her captors, Leil had still helped abduct her. And now, he waited just on the other side of the door.

Emariya took a deep, steady breath, and then let it out slowly. She straightened her shoulders, set her jaw, and pushed open the heavy door. With a grumble of protest as it rubbed against the stone floor, the door gave way, granting her entrance into the lavish study.

The solitary guard standing in the middle of the room looked relieved to see Torian enter. After a contemptuous glance at Leil, he readily obeyed Torian’s order to wait in the corridor.

Anticipation hung in the weighted air as Emariya stared intently at the back of the man she’d hated, pitied, feared, and, somewhere deep down, counted on. He stood a good few inches shorter than Torian and took up less physical space overall. His seemingly smaller stature might have been a subconscious reflection of her mental state the last time she’d seen him. Now that the initial shock of seeing him had worn off, she was in control. Her fear had subsided, leaving only curious pity behind.

As he turned slowly away from the red draped window, he met her eyes. She had to give him credit: he didn’t hang his head. Minutes ticked by as she waited for him to speak. He appeared to be studying her, taking in the changes in her appearance. The skin on her oval face boasted a healthy glow compared to the dirt of long and arduous travel. Emariya knew her velvet gown and long blonde hair made for a pleasingly feminine sight—all thanks to Jessa, of course. And instead of being rimmed in snowflakes, her hair now held a crown. Despite the outer niceties, she was just as unsure as the last time he’d seen her. She only hoped he couldn’t tell.

Unable to take the silence any longer, she demanded, “Why have you come?”

“I don’t rightly know.” His raspy voice was barely more than a whisper.

Torian’s muscles coiled, as if he were going to lunge across the room at any moment. “You’ve come to my castle, where you must have known I would have you thrown in the dungeon, frightened My Lady—”

“She isn’t frightened,” Leil interrupted.

Torian continued as if Leil hadn’t spoken,“—you have some nerve coming here, interrupting our feast—”

“I said, she isn’t frightened,” Leil raised his voice. “And I thought the feast was for
all
the citizens of Thalmas. That includes me.”