Authors: J. S. Chancellor
“I’m not pleased with your discretion, but I wouldn’t use the word anger,” he lied, not wanting to say much more for fear of revealing his real sentiments. She didn’t respond, but lay still and wordless instead, as though she were waiting on his permission to move. He put his hand on her shoulder. “If you’re well enough, change clothes. I will meet you in the hall. You are under no obligation to go if you aren’t ready. There is always another night.”
She shook her head. “I’ll be ready in a few minutes.” Her back was to him, her breathing still shallow.
He rose from the bed and walked toward the hall. Once outside, he leaned against the wall, his arms crossed on his chest. Blood throbbed in his head, blurring his vision. How could he intervene when the enemy was miles away? He’d expected the Ereubinians to grow in strength with their victory in Palingard, but this was unlike anything he’d ever witnessed. They’d displayed moderate powers of a trivial nature, like levitating objects or a mild persuasion, but nothing this malevolent.
He hadn’t noticed the dog before, but Michael suddenly felt hot breath on his legs. Koen was sitting next to him, whimpering. He must’ve been locked out of the room. He ran his hand down the dog’s head and back. “I think she would appreciate the company.” He cracked the door enough for Koen to go through. Though it was muffled, he thought he heard Ariana cry out Koen’s name and his heart sank. Was it really necessary for him to have been so harsh with her? She was miles away from what she’d known as her home, and though he felt he’d known her forever, she had more to take in than just his existence. She needed time to get used to everything — to get used to him.
As he waited, he paced back and forth through the hall. It was a habit of his. He’d worn furrows in the floor when Genny was ill. But this was so different. He’d at least known what to expect with her sickness. He couldn’t begin to prepare himself for an enemy who could injure from afar.
Michael had stopped pacing and was leaning against the door when it moved behind him. He turned to see that her eyes were red and puffy. The gown she’d changed into was a deep navy blue with a silver beaded bodice and a white fur-lined cloak. Her hair fell in blood red ringlets past her shoulders.
It took him aback to see her in the dress, having only seen Genny wear it on one occasion —the ceremony for Michael’s father. There’d been no body to bury, so they had held a vigil, lighting candles in his honor. All of Adoria had been united on that day.
“Ariana ...”
“Not right now, please.” She looked tired.
Nodding, he started to put his arm around her shoulder when she stepped out of his reach and walked ahead of him.
It was for her own good that he remained distant in his sympathies. As rightful ruler of Adoria, he couldn’t entertain any notion of Garren’s virtuousness, no matter how much it pleased his sister to do so.
C
HAPTER
T
HIRTEEN
A T
HOUSAND
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EARS
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he room was filled with people. Michael had told her that it would be, but somehow it hadn’t readied her for their reception. As she and Michael entered, every Adorian fell to his knees. He held her hand outstretched as they descended a wide set of steps. All eyes were on her and she felt vulnerable, naked. As upset as she was with Michael, she gripped his hand like it was the last thing she’d ever do.
The room was vast, stretching three stories to a cathedral ceiling made entirely of stained glass. Tall, white columns framed the edges of the room and set off several sections in the middle. Open balconies were mounted on all sides. She was in the process of wondering about the stairs when she saw several Adorians fly to take their places. It certainly explained why the ceiling was so high.
The décor was intricate from the doorways down to the designs on the marble floor. Painted tiles were scattered across the walls among paintings and tapestries, much like those in her room. She heard music and singing coming from somewhere behind the crowd.
The elders greeted them at the foot of the stairs. Their robes were dark navy, matching Ariana’s cloak. She recognized Jenner, who emerged from the group first. He took Ariana’s hand in his as he bowed, and kissed it. She wasn’t sure how to respond, and was grateful when he rose to face them.
“Lady Ariana, begotten of Gabriel Briony of Leiden and Caelyn Edessa of Lipsius, we are honored to welcome you home.
Antu oinai worno ethomos.
”
All of the elders then came to her, one by one, to grant her the same Adorian blessing. When they were finished, everyone cheered.
Michael leaned over to quietly inform her they’d be moving into the dining hall. She walked beside him, still keeping a firm hold on his hand. Although she was anxious about being the cause for so much fuss, she couldn’t get Garren’s face out of her mind and it brought heat to her cheeks. Michael mistook it for nerves.
“It’s alright. You should feel loved. You’re a part of this realm now, a daughter of Adoria.” He smiled, but she couldn’t even bring herself to nod in acknowledgment, nor could she force the feel, from the dream, of Garren’s hand on her cheek. Her cuts stung despite the salve that had been used and she wasn’t in the mood to hear Michael’s idealistic banter. It wasn’t that she didn’t think he believed what he was saying, he appeared to take every word of it as absolute truth, but after seeing the dissolution of so many promises in her life, Ariana couldn’t recall the last time she’d had faith in anything substantial. How could she just accept that everything was going to be fine when nothing ever was?
They walked through a large set of doors into a room of identical proportions, filled with long rows of tables. A separate table was set on a large platform at the far end of the room, no doubt for Michael’s and Ariana’s use. Michael approached the table and pulled out a chair for her. They sat down, facing the room.
Servers brought out many kinds of game — pheasant, venison and quail — and other animals that she couldn’t begin to name and had no interest in learning. It was a shame that she still had no appetite. Scores of Adorians came to speak to her as the night progressed, repeating their names over and over in the hopes that she’d remember them. It was hard enough to appear interested in what they were saying, much less keep track of their identities and the purpose they served in Cyphrus.
Michael must have sensed her state of mind and leaned over to check on her several times throughout the meal. She nodded respectfully each time, but declined to enlighten him further. She was pleased to see Duncan, who came around the table to hug her. She held on tightly this time, happy to see a familiar face.
He kissed her cheek. “I know this is all strange to you. It’s nothing like home, but you’ll come to love it here, I promise. Are you settling in alright?”
Ariana shrugged, hoping that her lack of a response would answer his question.
“If you’d like, we can ride sometime soon. I can show you a bit more of Adoria.”
“I would love nothing more,” she said, giving him a genuine smile in return.
“Then it’s settled. Tell me when you’re ready.” He gave her one overzealous pat on the back, unaware of her wounds, before he turned to leave.
“Wait, Duncan?” She swallowed back the newly revived pain that spread now from one side of her back to the other.
“Yes?” he asked, kneeling down in front of her.
“Do you think any of them are still alive?”
“Garren had a particular loathing for Palingard.” He leaned against the wall behind them and looked away for several moments. “I wish I could tell you differently, but I seriously doubt that if they’re alive, it’s a good thing.” A profound grief clutched at his words as they left his lips. He’d loved Palingard and though the other Adorians she’d met had expressed regrets, it wasn’t the same. None but Duncan, Roahn and a handful of Braeden understood what had been truly lost. It was more than just a stronghold, or a name on some map. It was home.
She could tell by Michael’s attitude toward the Braeden that he felt they were languid in their character, simply by not disagreeing with the elders. This aside, when she’d finally let go of her initial anger, their presence here above all others made her feel at ease. The Braeden had been in Middengard with them — or with the humans. She still couldn’t think of herself as an Adorian.
“I have so many questions, but I suppose now isn’t the time.”
He nodded and looked as though he wasn’t going to speak again, but turned back just before leaving. “I’ll make time to answer anything you want to know later.” He cleared his throat and absently swung his hand, hitting the door frame, as he breezed out of the room.
Michael leaned toward Ariana again. “You barely touched your food.”
“I’m alright.”
He kept his arm on the table beside her, unimpressed with her answer. “It seems you and Duncan have made amends.”
She nodded in silence.
“I was never able to see Palingard except at a distance,” Michael noted. “Tell me, what was it like?”
She’d been playing with her fork, and when Michael finished his question, she dropped it beside her plate. She still wasn’t interested in talking, but realized that he was going to press her until she gave him some sign that everything was alright.
“It was different. It’s hard for me to explain how. Everything was simpler, less elegant.” She took a deep breath, pausing before saying anything further. “I was raised by a friend of our mother’s, her name is Bella. I’ve known her since I was born. She helped mother around the house and in the fields in return for room and board. Then, when mother died, she tended to me while Father was gone. Eventually, she was all I had left.”
“What about your lessons, what were they like? Is there a school there?” He seemed genuinely interested, but she’d have preferred to finish her meal, or rather play with her meal, in peace and quiet.
“There were few children left after the first siege, so we were all taught by the same teachers. It was a small building near the center of the village. The older children helped the younger ones, and though it was nothing like what you have here, it worked for us. Mother read to me when I was little, and while he was still there, Duncan taught me all sorts of things.” A slight smile forced its way to her lips. “I tried to teach Sara a few words of what I now know was Adorian. Certainly explains why she was never able to grasp it. She’d tell me stories that she’d heard over the years of winged men. It was all fun and games to me, nonsense, but she really believed it.”
“I take it Sara was a close friend of yours?” He asked.
“She was my closest friend.” She was terrified for Sara, and though Duncan had said it would be worse if she were alive, Ariana desperately, selfishly hoped that she was. She pushed the thought of what Sara would be going through out of her mind; it was too much to bear at the moment.
“She told me once that she’d seen an Adorian. We’d just finished celebrating a wedding, and just as everyone had readied for bed, she came tearing through our house yelling for me. I’ll never forget her face. At the time I thought she’d gone mad, but, I suppose she could have seen one of you.”
Michael lifted his head. “What did she say to you of this Adorian?”
“She said she was walking through the woods, looking for flowers for a wreath, or something equally ridiculous, when she spotted him from a few yards away. She went on about this for weeks, well, years afterwards. The armor he wore, his horse. Even after she’d gotten engaged, she still talked about it, all weepy eyed and sappy.”
“Did she marry?” Michael asked.
Ariana thought the question odd. She shook her head. “No, the wedding was set for a few months from now, though if you want to know my opinion, I don’t think it was ever going to take place. They didn’t get along very well.” A smile crossed his face. It had a quaintness to it that caught her interest. “Am I missing something?”
“I saw Palingard once from a distance, as I said earlier. It was at dusk after a ride from Ruiari and when I approached the village, as I shouldn’t have done, I witnessed what I assumed to be a wedding. It was several years ago. I think your friend may have seen me.”
Ariana wasn’t sure how she felt about this. “Are you serious?”
He nodded, looking a bit self-conscious. “I’m afraid so. No other Adorian would have ventured that close. I deviated from my riders because I had the authority to.”
Ariana thought it over for a moment and found the revelation saddened her. It may have been the only time that Sara would ever lay eyes on him. “You would have really liked her.” Ariana closed her eyes to keep from crying. “She was the human embodiment of trust and loyalty.”
“Ariana, there’s someone I would like to introduce to you.”
She opened her eyes to see Jenner, his hand on the shoulder of an aged, pleasant-looking human. At least, she assumed as much — he didn’t have wings and didn’t have the build to be Braeden.
“This is Bronach.”
The man bowed, a generous smile lighting up his features. “My Lady, it is truly my pleasure to meet you. It seems your name is all I hear these days.”
She rolled her eyes. “Don’t believe a word of it. I’m not nearly as feisty as they would lead you to believe.”
Bronach laughed as he patted her hand. “Fair enough, but I should tell you that you are every bit as lovely as I was told. You remind me very much of someone I once knew. Perhaps I’ll tell you about her sometime.”
“Bronach is a historian,” Jenner said. “I imagine he could tell you far more about Adoria than any of our elders, myself included.”
Bronach nodded. “If you could stand the company of an old man, grumpy and sardonic in his ways, then I will teach you anything you wish to know, child. All you need to do is ask.”
Ariana was intrigued by him, relieved by his humor and his humanity. “I’ll take you up on your offer. Just remember that you made it.”