The Myatheira Chronicles: Volume Two: Beyond the Veil (4 page)

Aiva smiled to see her brother make his way into the arena, hand raised to wave gallantly to the crowd. Intrigued by what was in store, she leaned over to her father, searching his face to see if he shared her confusion. “Father, what is Edric doing? I was not aware he would be participating in the tournament today.”

“It was not part of the plan, I admit. Though a surprise guest made us decide to change the arrangement this morning. That is why the General and I chose to tilt lances rather than our usual duel.”

Calie shifted forward in her seat. A devious smile was upon her lips once again, resting her elbows on Aiva’s shoulders. “Would you like one more chance at some of my coins before the tournament is over?”

“How can I place a bet when I do not even know who the opponent is?” Aiva inquired, distracted by the increasing roar of the soldiers along the sidelines of the lists. A second figure was coming forward, clad in the same armor she’d seen the General wear in the past, though unlike Edric, his face was concealed. There was less showmanship in his entrance than Edric’s, turning to the crowd on either side of the lists with a sharp salute.

Shaelyn’s muffled sobs ceased, her gaze centered on Edric, showing no signs of her previous distress. Like Aiva, she was equally confused by the presentation. After a moment of silence she whispered into Aiva’s ear, her voice barely audible. “Who is that?”

“I do not know,” Aiva replied, absent, barely aware of Cadell leaving the arena to allow the two men the freedom to begin. It struck her as odd that the change to the show had slipped by her notice. She’d been present for most of the preparation arrangements. Could it really have been so last-minute?

She watched her brother circle around his opponent. Whoever the man was, he was quite skilled. Aiva recognized his stance to be solid. Well-placed. His footwork was quick and agile. Any strike Edric attempted was easily deflected, parried to one side and countered without hesitation, forcing her brother to keep on his guard. At her side she could hear the King and Queen cheering for Edric, her mother shouting out critiques on her son’s movements, the advice lost in the sea of raucous applause and pounding of hands and feet.

It was an impressive display, knowing her brother to be a well-trained swordsman under General Cadell himself. Any fighter with personal instruction by the General possessed incredible finesse with the blade. Edric’s opponent revealed no flaws in his technique. No holes in his guard to expose. Aiva feared her brother might be outclassed.

Breath held in anticipation, she stared, mouth agape, muscles tensed as if she might somehow be able to add to Edric’s strength with her own if she channeled it hard enough. She hated not being in control of the sword during a match. In her mind she could see all the moves she would make. Any side-step or lunge that might prove effective, but the fighters never followed the trajectory in her thoughts. It was out of her hands and all she could do was hope.

Calie called out encouragement for the Prince’s opponent, on her feet in the stands behind Aiva. The crowd was absolutely wild. Both men teetered back and forth between victory and defeat, always managing to regain their footing at the last second to deflect and counter, finding a more dominating position. Aiva feared her heart would burst from her chest if they didn’t end the match soon. “Come on, Edric!” she shouted, her voice drowned out amidst the others. Swept up in the excitement, she found herself on her feet, hands poised in front of her as if in prayer for her brother’s victory. The rush of the battle was exhilarating.

Twisting and turning, the men continued their seemingly endless battle, neither showing sign of fatigue or strain. It was all a game to them. She could almost hear their laughter on the field with every clash of their practice swords, the blades designed to have the appearance of a real weapon while lacking any sharpness to the tip or firmness of the steel. Flexible. There was no danger of wounding one another. And yet the crowd roared as if the men dueled to the death.

When the combatants finally came to a halt on the field, Aiva heard her own voice cry out in utter shock, aware only of the opponent’s blade coming to rest on Edric’s shoulder, inches from his neck. He paused, head tilted downward, drawing attention to Edric’s sword, the tip bent, having found its mark between stomach and chest. Fatal blows on either side. It was a draw.

Relieved by the conclusion, she cheered, unsure of whether or not her praise was for her brother or the remarkable skill possessed by his adversary. It wasn’t every day she saw a display of such grace and power. Certainly worthy of a demonstration for the King and Queen. Deep down she felt a strong desire to challenge the man herself. It had been some time since she’d found a worthy opponent, other than her brother, though of late he was never available to practice. She worried her skill would diminish if she didn’t find a new means of honing it. But now was hardly the time. She wasn’t dressed for combat and it would be out of line for a lady to interrupt the festivities simply out of a misplaced desire to feel the rush of battle.

General Cadell was making his way onto the field, face alight with pride. Edric unclasped his helmet to settle it under his arm, a charming smile over his lips, the crowd filled with women calling out to him from the stands. He was a handsome man. Aiva tended to overlook it at times. His features resembled their father’s in many ways. Angular in structure, though his eyes were a perfect mixture of his parents’, glowing with a brilliant combination of sapphire blue flecked with silver, like tiny diamonds shining from within. His usually well-combed hair was now a mass of black tangles atop his head, matted down from the sweat of the spar. Disheveled or not, the women were madly in love with him.

Aiva leaned forward in her seat, arms resting on the rail, unable to tear her eyes away from the soldier standing to the right of the General. His face remained concealed. Through the clamor of the crowd she couldn’t make out anything Cadell was saying. Something about the military. A commander.

When the man lifted his hands to the base of his helmet, she could barely stand the suspense. The other soldiers hooted louder than before, banging their hands against the seats to create as much noise as they could muster. Aiva’s breath caught in her throat as the visor lifted. He bore a shocking resemblance to General Cadell, the bright umber flash of his eyes searching the crowd, coming to rest on Aiva. Quickly she lowered herself into her seat, hoping he would lose sight of her amongst the joyful ovation of the others.

It couldn’t be. She hadn’t seen those eyes in years. Lost at the image of him there in the arena, she was amazed to see how much he’d changed. Callum Zerne. No longer was he the young boy she’d known as a child, chasing her through the garden with his wooden sword. He was very much a man now. There was a difference in the way he carried himself. Confident. Strong. A true soldier. And his ability with the sword had improved far beyond that which he’d possessed the day she defeated him in the palace courtyard. After the initial surprise to see him standing there, she found her heart filled with an uncharacteristic rage. How dare he! After all this time, to simply walk back into Sivaeria as if he belonged there, having made no attempts to contact her upon his return? And how long had he been back? Not a single visit? A letter?

After he left for his training, his promises to write had been proven empty. Other than the occasional note to her brother Edric, Aiva had heard nothing of him. No news of his progress. He could have been killed at the hand of a pirate in Luquarr and she would never have known.

“Aiva, are you alright?”

Blinking her eyes dazedly she looked up to find Calie standing over her. “Oh, yes. I am fine.” She forced a smile, opening her slender fan to create a soft breeze over her flushed face. “A little too much excitement, I think. I felt a bit faint for a moment, but I am better now.”

“Are you surprised? I wanted so badly to tell you but everyone wanted it to be such a secret.”

“You wanted to tell me what?”

“That Callum was returned from Siscal,” Calie beamed. Aiva wanted to share in her friend’s enthusiasm. Something inside prevented it, crushing any hint of happiness she might have once felt in seeing Callum again.

“How long has he been back?”

“Three days. Maybe four. It has been difficult to keep track with the way he and father have been chattering about their battle stories. Really, they go on and on. None of us can get a word in edgewise.”

The pressure in her stomach intensified at the news. Three days; maybe four? Long enough to have given some indication of his presence. A simple hello, perhaps? It was insulting to have been forgotten in such a fashion. That day in the garden he spoke of his sadness in leaving her behind. He’d kissed her! Of all the horrible, rotten things he could have done! And to think that was the last time she’d ever set eyes upon him – or heard any word. She found it hard to believe he had missed her at all.

“I think maybe I should lie down for a bit before the ball,” she stated suddenly, rising to her feet. “Too much fresh air. If you will excuse me.”

“Aiva, darling. Are you well?” Leyna asked, moving swiftly to stand, hands gently resting upon her daughter’s arms, searching her face for what caused her unusual discomfort.

Forcing her smile wider Aiva struggled to make herself look and sound convincing. She wanted to be alone. If anyone believed her to be ill or troubled, she would never find a moment of peace. “I assure you, Mother. I will be quite alright. Just a slight ache in my head. If I get some rest, I will be well enough for the ball in a few hours.”

Leyna stared at her, unwilling to accept what Aiva told her but unable to prove differently. Reluctant, she removed her hands to allow Aiva an escape from the watchful eyes of the others in the stands. Everyone had witnessed her strange behavior. It would spark questions, but Aiva didn’t care. All she wanted was to get out of there. To be rid of the stares. She needed a chance to gather her thoughts before throwing herself in amidst the other courtiers at the ball. If Callum was back, then he would be at the celebration. She had no desire to speak with him.
And just when I thought the party couldn’t be any more bothersome
.

Clutching her skirt tightly in her hand she hurried down the steps of the seating area, making her way along the rear to avoid any accidental confrontation with Callum. Or Edric. He knew her well enough to see when she was troubled. Right now was not the time for him to approach her. Her heart raced until she found herself safely in the quieter halls of the palace, feet thudding along the floor in the direction of her room. For now she was spared from the inevitable confrontation. With any luck she would find herself racked by an unforeseen and unexplained illness which would prevent her from attending the party. Nothing short of that would get her out of the torture the night seemed guaranteed.

.

Chapter Two

Aiva gazed off into the distance while her chambermaid worked on the laces of her corset. She was too distracted to care about the discomfort. It didn’t matter at that point what she looked or felt like. Her mind raced over all the things she wanted to say to Callum but she wouldn’t say anything. There wasn’t anything worth speaking of. Not since he walked away from her in the gardener’s shed fifteen years ago.

How could he? He was old enough back then to know the consequences of his actions. He was well aware of what he did when he placed his lips against hers. And she had been a mere child! In a way she felt violated. Her best friend. To take advantage of her innocence, speak of missing her to such a degree, and then leave her with nothing but the memory of that awkward moment. He should have said something before walking away. Or at least written a single note to let her know why he’d done it. Did he love her? No. He couldn’t. If he did, he would have remained in contact with her instead of disappearing off the face of Myatheira without any word of his whereabouts or safety.

“Is that alright, Milady?”

She stared blankly at the chambermaid, the words not registering at first. The questioning gaze on the woman’s face told her that she was asking something. What the inquiry was, she wasn’t sure. And she didn’t care. “Just get my dress. I do not care what I look like. I want to get this over with.”

Oh, everything was so confusing! She didn’t want to see him. Why did he have to come home now? Today of all days! The one night she actually wanted to enjoy herself and now it would be impossible, knowing he was around somewhere. Possibly asking about her. But she didn’t care if he asked about her. She was doing just fine. And she would make sure everyone told him exactly that.

She wouldn’t rely on anyone to tell Callum that she was fine. She would show him. She would ignore him, and make him see that he had missed his chance by brushing her off. Fists clenched, Aiva drew in a breath, air flow restricted by the sturdy stays of her corset. For the first time she became aware of how uncomfortably tight it was. If it made her figure look more tempting to Callum, then it was worth it. He was free to admire what she refused to give him any part of. A perfect punishment for him.

As the chambermaid slid the gown over Aiva’s head and arms, she couldn’t help but admire the way it looked against her fair skin. The deep crimson and gold brocade brought out the rich black of her hair, and the painted color of her lips. An underskirt of radiant golden silk was visible under the heavy folds of the dark gown. Gold cords wrapped around her slender waist, the ends dangling down over the front of the garment, the same shade as the ties which adorned her elbows, creating an elegant bell design to the sleeves. She almost wished that the bodice was slightly more revealing rather than the modest neckline it possessed, though she felt her figure was accentuated enough by the firmness of her corset. Any tighter and she would fear embarrassing herself during one of the more upbeat dances she would be performing throughout the evening.

Her sapphire eyes glowed brightly through the reflection she saw in the mirror. Dark liner brought out their color to the extreme. There was a deviousness in their depths that she hoped no one else would notice. She was a woman with a plan tonight. Regardless of Callum’s presence, she was going to have a good time. This party was in honor of her parents. The King and Queen of Tanispa. As the royal heir, there was no reason for her not to take absolute pleasure in a celebration of her heritage. She wouldn’t let a single silly boy ruin it.

Strands of tiny diamonds and flowers were woven through her long hair, sparkling in the light of the chandelier overhead. She smiled in spite of herself at the sight. They would glitter even more under the bright lights in the ballroom, adding to the gleam of the slender gold and silver twisted crown atop her head, shimmering from the gems set into the delicate frame. Tonight she was determined to shine brighter than Shaelyn ever could in her youthful lady-like glow.

Turning from the mirror she smiled to see her brother stepping through the door of her room, led in by the chambermaid. His golden doublet matched the color of the cording which decorated Aiva’s gown, the epaulets on the shoulders giving his figure a broader appearance. He showed no sign of fatigue from his earlier duel against Callum in the lists, hair neatly combed away from his face, a few longer strands escaping to drape over his forehead. Aiva always admired her brother’s ability to make himself appear regal while maintaining a casual style. She assumed it was one of his many characteristics that made the ladies at court adore him the way they did.

“Are you ready, Aiva? You know I am not allowed to enter without you on my arm,” Edric chuckled, offering his elbow to her expectantly. “We are already a little more than fashionably late. Mother and Father were announced almost twenty minutes ago. They have been sending inquiries to me every few minutes as to whether or not you are still feeling under the weather.”

“I am quite well. You may not have experience personally, but you know enough from having three sisters that our clothing is not the easiest to apply.” She accepted his arm, grateful for his company. It would keep her distracted upon her initial entry to the ballroom, though once inside, she would need to part ways with him quickly. He and Callum were friends. If she remained by Edric, there would be no avoiding the one man she had no desire to see or speak with.

Edric smirked at Aiva, a sparkle in his silver-blue eyes. “Women’s clothing is quite a puzzle, yes. Though one might argue if it is more difficult to remove than it is to put on.”

“I like to pretend that you have no knowledge of how it is removed.” Aiva raised her brow in Edric’s direction, taking note of the crooked grin on his face. Shaking her head she heaved a sigh, playfully punching him in the arm with her free hand, rolling her eyes. “What is a lady to do when she is surrounded by dogs?”

“Ah, so cruel! Father taught me better than that. If you want to see a true dog, you should spend an evening listening to some of the soldiers talk. Though, truth be told, I would never allow them anywhere near you, so you will have to simply take my word for it.”

Aiva felt her stomach wrench at the thought. Soldiers. She’d heard enough stories about some of them to know what Edric referred to, though she had no desire to question him any further. It came as a surprise that he would speak in such a way about them when his best friend was within their ranks. Or did he think Callum a special case? An exception to the rule. She doubted it. Given how easily Callum succumbed to his desire to kiss her so long ago, with the confidence gained by wearing the Tanispan military uniform, he was likely worse. Egotistical. His company was probably more unbearable than some of the most despicable men she’d heard tell of. “I have no interest in wasting my time with a military man. Do not trouble yourself on the thought.”

Slow and graceful they made their way into the hall from Aiva’s room, finding the corridor leading into the main areas of the palace to be quiet. Calm. The chaos would begin once they reached the foyer where the guests would be arriving. Taking advantage of the silence in the last few steps of the hallway Edric paused, casting Aiva a stern look. “All jesting aside, I hope you do not think so lowly of our soldiers. Some of the most respectable men in Tanispa serve our family and would die without question if our lives depended on it. I suggest you keep in mind that you cannot punish them all for the deeds of some.”

“Relax, Edric,” she smiled, hoping he wouldn’t notice the effort it took her to force the expression. “I would never turn a man aside simply for his decision to live a military life. If I did, I would have very few friends, given that a good number of men at court these days tend toward that profession.”

Nodding, Edric resumed their steady pace toward the foyer. In the large entryway, the vaulted ceiling made everything sound hollow to Aiva’s ears, voices mingling together in a jumbled mess of incoherent noise. At their arrival, the crowd fell hushed, a trumpet sounding from the door. Such fanfare! Callum would have no choice but to notice her. Confident in her plan, she pulled her shoulders back, chin out proudly, defiant.

As a little girl she’d dreamt of what it would be like to walk into a ballroom filled with her subjects. When she was Queen. She imagined it would feel something like this. A swell of pride to know that the entire court was at her feet. And they would be tonight.

The doors swung open, the crowd inside bowed low at the announcement of their arrival. Prince Edric and Princess Aiva Levadis. She smiled to hear her named called out across the room in such a fashion. For a moment she thought to seek out Callum’s face, to see if he was watching, but thought better of it. He couldn’t be allowed to think that she was interested. She wasn’t. The whole point of her plan was to not be. But she wanted to know! What fun was there in making someone jealous – tormenting them – if you couldn’t know it was working?

Edric led her forward along the path cleared for them by the courtiers, her smile widening to see her mother and father rise to their feet in greeting. With a polite bow Edric offered Aiva’s hand to King Thade, stepping to the side to give Queen Leyna a kiss on the cheek. “Mother. Father. As you can see, I found my lost sister. There is no more need for concern.”

“We were worried about you,” Thade frowned, looking Aiva over carefully. “You are recovered from your earlier ailment?”

“Of course, Father.” Aiva squeezed his hand tightly. She hated the thought of having caused her parents distress. They doted over her. The same as they did all of their children. For everything they did to make sure she was happy, she felt they deserved better than she had given in return. “I was tired, but a little rest did wonders. I would not dream of missing your celebration.”

Thade chuckled to himself, lightly pressing his lips to her forehead. “I am happy to see you smiling again. Did you see Chief Okivra is in attendance? And he brought his son, it seems. I was hoping to introduce you and Edric to him.”

“The Chief’s son?” Aiva stared at him, awed by the news. As the leader of the Ovatai in the frozen lands of Ethrysta to the north, he rarely found time – or need – to leave his country, let alone bring his heir along. His people were very private. Secluded. She was excited by the possibility of meeting Okivra’s son. “Are you sure I am dressed for the occasion? Had I known, I would have taken a bit more care. I never know whether or not the Chief is pleased with me.”

“He will be pleased, Aiva. If you are on your best behavior that is,” Leyna nodded, motioning Aiva and Edric toward a small group standing off to the left of the dais. “I will let your father have the honor of introducing you. I should remain here.”

Glancing over to where her mother indicated, Aiva could see the distinct outline of the Chief. His appearance was unmistakable. She’d only had an opportunity to speak with him on one other occasion and she recalled his presence to be intimidating. Okivra was a very powerful man. She could only assume his son would be as well.

Thade already had her hand, leading her down the steps from the throne over to the Chief, immediately catching his attention. Okivra lifted his head, a strange half-smile on his lips to see them. Aiva tried not to stare. She knew it was impolite, but she found it hard not to gaze at anyone of the Ovatai race without the same look of wonderment. In many ways they bore resemblance to the Vor’shai, with distinct differences, the largest being the thin fur-like hair which covered most of their bodies. A natural protection against the harsh temperatures in the north. At a glance it was easy to miss. Upon closer inspection the fine hairs could be seen against their pale skin, with wider tufts on their forearms and calves, though well-concealed by the garments they wore for the celebration.

Okivra was dressed in what appeared to be a very high-fashion sort of hunting tunic. There was little need in his country for fancy clothes. They wore what was necessary to survive. Aiva had no recollection of ever seeing the Chief in any color other than white, much like he wore now, unblemished in its purity. Living in a snow-covered landscape, the shade was perfect for concealment from any predator they might come across, while also offering ample advantage in stalking prey.

At Okivra’s side was another man, tall, hovering over Aiva by more than a foot. He was dressed in much the same fashion as the Chief, though he wore it in a far different way. While their clothing was the same, he carried himself with a different pride, almost haughty. Overconfident. The youth in his icy eyes burned into Aiva at their approach.

“Chief Okivra. I hope we are not intruding, but it seems my daughter decided to grace the party with her presence after all,” Thade announced. In a sweeping motion he gestured to Aiva, her heart pounding hard against her chest to be placed on display in front of these two men. “If I may introduce you to my daughter, Aiva Levadis, and my son, Edric.”

Coming to Aiva’s rescue, Edric stepped to her other side, hand resting gently on her back to lightly bend her forward, reminding her to curtsy while he bowed deeply to both men in turn. She took his direction, realizing in horror that she had been staring at them in her usual open-mouthed gaze.

The younger male at Okivra’s side returned Edric’s bow, stepping forward to take Aiva’s hand in his. Surprised by the sudden closeness, she lifted her eyes to him, confused and frightened. “Your Highness,” he stated calmly. Deep. His voice didn’t sound real to Aiva’s ears. Detached in the flow of his words over the Vor’shai language. She was surprised to feel warmth coming from his fingers. The Ovatai always seemed so cold. She’d expected their skin to be just as frozen as their homeland.

“My son, Onuric It’aryn,” Okivra replied, giving no extravagance to the introduction. “Does the greeting suit the Princess? I attempt to teach him the strange ways of your people in the offering of hands.”

“It suits well, yes,” Aiva stammered, averting her eyes to the floor once again. She prayed desperately that her father might aid her in an explanation. All she wanted was for Onuric to release her hand so she could quietly slip away. Instead, to her dismay, he maintained his hold, watching her with intense curiosity, scrutinizing her every move.