The Darathi Vorsi Prince (Song of the Swords Book 0) (11 page)

Her words hovered around him long after sh
e’
d closed the door. He did
n’
t know Faelara well enough to know whom she meant, but if there was a man who had scorned her, he was a fool. Faelara was a woman worth fighting for, of that Rhoane was certain.

He ambled to his own cabin, rocking with the ship and hating the queasiness in his gut. He envied Faelar
a’
s ease on water, her ability to adapt to sea travel, and her enjoyment of the ocean. She was a remarkable woman, and for a brief moment, he allowed himself to imagine what it would be like if he could choose his mate. Would Faelara be his equal in everything? Or even Kaleigh? His memory scanned the Eleri women he knew, and none of them enticed him.

Even with Kaleig
h’
s gentle nature and Faelar
a’
s intellect, they were not meant for him. His thoughts drifted to Faelara, most likely reclining on her bunk, yearning for her lost love. Tha
t’
s what Rhoane had done for much of his childhoo
d—
yearned for a future he could not control. He sat on his own bunk and ran his hands through his short curls, cursing the oath h
e’
d made. It changed nothing, he knew, but after a lifetime of holding onto his own truths, he did
n’
t know how to rewrite the story. How to accept what was expected of him could be good, for not only him, but Aelinae.

Chapter 9

THEY docked with no fanfare, nothing to indicate the ship carried three prominent persons. Once the gangplank was lowered, the captain ordered their horses unloaded first. He was in no mood to be trifled with this morning, nor apparently did he want his strange passengers aboard his ship a moment longer than necessary.

The trio was equally as eager to be on solid ground. They rode through the streets of the Summerlands capital in silence. Rhoane and Faelara discreetly admired the well-trimmed houses and shops they passed, while Myrddin slunk into his saddle, as if dozing. His hood covered much of his eyes, and every so often a sleepy snort issued from the depths of the fabric.

At the palace gates, he roused himself and asked whether the king and queen would accept an audience with an old friend. Rhoane exchanged a glance with Faelara. Her raised brow and narrowed eyes answered his unspoken question. The empress had sent messages to each of their respective stops along the route; therefore, the king and queen would be expecting the group. Yet Myrddin had
n’
t mentioned their names, or their mission.

They followed a young groom to the stables and left their horses in his care. Several pages retrieved their meager possessions and indicated the visitors should enter the palace through the main doorway before scampering off in the opposite direction.

Another page escorted them through the colorful hallways decorated with mosaic tiles that depicted scenes from the sea. One in particular captured Rhoan
e’
s attention. It was a scene of Menurr
a’
s harbor with dozens of ships ready to sail into the distance. But there, almost hidden between two dolphins, the artist had skillfully inserted a mermaid into the scene. A broad smile lit up her face. For a moment, he thought he could hear her laughter.

“
Rhoane, did you hear me
?”
Faelara touched his sleeve, and he shook his head.

“
I was distracted. I am sorry
.
”

Her smile was not nearly as joyful as the mermai
d’
s
.“
I said, the king and queen will see us now
.
”

Two massive doors swung inward to reveal a huge hall covered in the decorative tiles. Flowers, stars, the sea, desert
s—
every aspect of Summerlands life was captured in the room. The great vaulted ceiling was a blanket of midnight, with the sun at one end and twin moons at the other. In the direct center was Dal Tara.

A thrill shot through him at the sight of his mothe
r’
s resting place. Although it was only colored glass, the artist had infused the mosaic with a touch of ShantiMari, which gave the portrait ethereal appeal.

At the far end of the room, two chairs sat upon a dais, with the king and queen looking as though the
y’
d stepped from the ceiling. Queen Prateeni wore an elaborate headdress made of gold and gems. Exquisite strands of pearls framed her face. When she inclined her head in greeting, the sound of bells filled the space. Despite the heat, a thick blanket covered her body; its white fur shimmered against the quee
n’
s burnished skin.

Beside her, the king wore a less ostentatious crown, although it was covered in pearls, diamonds, and rubies. His right hand rested over the quee
n’
s left, a simple gesture that piqued Rhoan
e’
s interest. Most nobility rarely showed public affection, his mother and father among them. To see the king gaze upon his queen with devotion in his deep brown eyes charmed Rhoane.

Myrddin chatted amiably with the monarchs as Rhoane and Faelara stood silently behind him. Obviously the mage was a frequent visitor to the palace. Again, Rhoane and Faelara shared a questioning glance. When finally the queen tilted her head in their direction, Myrddin finished his tale and hooked a thumb at them.

“
As promised, I brought you the two most gifted healers in all the realms. They will see your child delivered without incident. The Summerlands will have an heir in short order
.
”

Faelar
a’
s amber eyes flashed anger toward the mage, her lips thinned to a dangerous white line.

“
You are both genari
?”
Queen Prateeni asked. Rhoane had never heard the expression, and with the quee
n’
s heavily accented Elennish, he was
n’
t even sure whether sh
e’
d asked or stated a fact.

“
No, Your Majesty. I am Lady Faelara dal Arran. My father is High Priest of Talaith, and while I am skilled in healing, I am not genari. Neither is my friend
.”
Faelara cast a scathing glance at Myrddin, who smiled with a little too much mischief lurking upon his lips
.“
May I present Prince Rhoane, First Son of the Eleri
.
”

Rhoane bowed low to the monarchs, his hand over his heart. Whatever was happening in the throne room, he wanted answers as much as Faelara did, but he chose to remain silent until he had the situation sorted.

The queen clapped a hand over her mouth as an audible gasp escaped her lips
.“
An Eleri? Here
?”
She rose on unstable legs, and her husband immediately was at her side to help her down the few steps. Her belly, naked and swollen with her growing child, protruded above the waistband of her long skirt. A swirl of golden dots had been carefully painted onto her skin.

“
Welcome, Prince Rhoane, Lady Faelara. I am Queen Prateeni, and this is my husband, King Faisal. But
I’
m sure you already know this. By the looks on your faces, I am going to guess you did
n’
t know you were coming here to assist in the birth of our son
.
”

The king placed a protective hand over Prateen
i’
s belly
.“
Your empress assured me you were skilled in childbirth. This has been a difficult pregnancy for my wife. We cannot lose another child
.
”

“
Another
?”
Faelara ventured
.“
How many have there been
?
”

“
Two thus far. Both male and in my final months
.”
Prateen
i’
s skin turned a horrible shade of ash, and Faelara reached for the woma
n’
s temple.

“
You are like ice. Help me get her to her rooms. Rhoane, come with me
.”
Faelara spit out orders faster than a hemlox did vinegar seeds. The others in the room moved into action, heeding every command the petite woman made.

Myrddin caught Rhoan
e’
s elbow as he strode past
.“
Do
n’
t be angry with me, boy. I did what I had to do to get you here
.
”

“
Why the deception? You could have just asked us to attend her birth
.
”

“
And would you have come
?
”

Rhoane knew the truth without saying the words. He would
n’
t have traveled across the sea to help the queen, but manipulating them, as Myrddin had, deserved his wrath
.“
I suppose we are not going to the other kingdoms, then
?
”

“
Only if you want to do some sightseeing
.”
Myrddin clapped him on the back. A grin teased his lips
.“
I know you spent more than three seasons with the Ullans, healing their sick, attending the wounded. You can do this, Rhoane. If the queen can give birth to one healthy child, she will never have difficulties again. I
t’
s imperative to her House that she deliver this baby
.
”

Rhoane suppressed his anger. Myrddin had manipulated both him and Faelara and although he in time might understand why, he could
n’
t let the queen suffer now
.“
I will do this, for the queen and not for you. But you must promise me, no more lies. If you need my assistance, you ask for it. If you use subterfuge again, I will not view you as a friend. Are we clear
?
”

Myrddin faced him, a sober expression on his face
.“
You are a man of honor, Prince Rhoane. I do
n’
t wish to be your enemy
.”
He held out his arm for Rhoane to grip, and the two embraced with the pact
.“
Now, see to the queen, will you? I have an errand to run
.
”

Rhoane debated for a split second whether he should follow the mage, but Prateen
i’
s screams pulled his attention to the royal bedchamber.

The scene he walked into was one of horror. A pool of blood ran slick across the floor, with footprints smeared from one end to the other. The queen thrashed atop the covers, mumbling incoherently. Faelara sat by her side, speaking in soothing tones. The king paced the room, his face a thunderstorm of emotions. When he saw Rhoane, he approached, lashing out as he did.

“
You! You brought this on. What sort of charlatan are you? An Eleri prince? Ha
!
”

Startled and confused by the tirade, Rhoane refused to shrink from the man
.“
I am not now, nor will I ever be, a charlatan. I have skill in healing, but if you would prefer I let your wife die, I will leave this room and never return. Her death will be on your conscience, Your Majesty, not mine
.
”

The king fumed anew. Words spoken in his native tongue sputtered from his lips. Curses, most likely. Rhoane waited out the tantrum. His thoughts spun. What in Ohli
n’
s name did Myrddin get them into? And what did he mean, Rhoane and Faelara would
n’
t search for Lliandr
a’
s mate? Whatever game the empress was playing, Rhoane wanted no part, but just as he had to endure Amd
i’
s arena, he suspected h
e’
d have to endure Lliandr
a’
s folly.

Faisa
l’
s tirade quieted and he nodded toward the bed
.“
If you can help her, I would be grateful
.”
He grabbed Rhoan
e’
s sleeve as he passed
.“
But speak to me like that again, and I will not be as generous
.
”

Rhoane met the ma
n’
s even stare
.“
You cannot force respect, sire. It must be earned. I will forgive your outburst this time and look forward to your future generosity
.”
He had
n’
t spent all that time with the Ullans without learning how to stare down his enemy. Except Rhoane did
n’
t think Faisal was his enemy. He hoped the king felt the same. They needed to be allies, the Summerlands king and the Eleri.

Faisal glared at him, but Rhoane brushed past him to the quee
n’
s bed. Sweat soaked the pillowcase beneath Prateen
i’
s head, and her garments were stained with blood. Her distended belly protruded at grotesque angles where the baby was tossed by his mothe
r’
s movements.

Without speaking, Rhoane channeled his ShantiMari and focused on the ancient practices of calm h
e’
d learned as a young man. He spread his hands wide over the woma
n’
s body and gently let his power embrace her. She paused in her thrashing, and Rhoane cooed reminders to relax, to think of the baby. He sent subtle suggestions of sleep to both her and the child. Only when her body sank into the thick blankets did Rhoane place his palms upon her belly. Eyes closed, he probed her womb to look for signs of distress. The bab
y’
s heartbeat entwined with his power, faint but steady. If they did
n’
t bring the child forth within the next bell, both mother and son would die.