The Light Unleashed Page 5

  His blue eyes crystallize into stone. “A matter of policy, nothing more.”

  I glance at Uncle Devnet. I can’t tell if he was in on their conversation or not. His face is neutral.

  “Was she well?” Quinn asks, his concern evident in his tone. “We were supposed to meet this afternoon ourselves, but she never summoned me.”

  Geran rips off a piece of bread from the loaf in front of him. “She will be fine.”

  Quinn’s hand pauses over his goblet of wine. “Then she was feeling ill?”

  “No.” Geran glares at him. “She is fine.”

  I concentrate on Quinn. I’ll take care of this.

  An uncomfortable silence settles over the room as Maris, Devnet, and Noam must sense the tension between my father and me.

  “So, Quinn,” I pick up my cup. “Have you and my mother decided on a wedding date yet?”

  Geran drops his fork.

  Quinn chokes on whatever he’s eating.

  The others stare at each other as if trying to decide if they’d heard me right.

  I take a sip of wine. “Was that what you were going to talk about this afternoon?”

  Quinn finally manages to swallow. “No.”

  Maris tries to break the negative current flowing around the room. She smiles tentatively toward Quinn. “Am I to understand you and Kennis are to be wed?”

  He knows he’s in trouble no matter what he says, so he stares down at his plate and says nothing.

  “Yes, Grandmother.” I come to his rescue. “I’ve given them my blessing to marry.”

  Geran’s anger is palpable from across the room. He practically jumps to his feet. “May I speak with you? Alone?’

  “With who?” I try to act innocent. “Me?”

  “Yes.” His cheeks quiver with suppressed rage. “With you.”

  “Sure thing.” My chair squeals against the stone floor as I stand. I stalk away with my father on my heels. We head toward the formal conference room across the hall.

  He slams the door behind him. “What do you think you are doing?”

  I march past the large wooden table in the center of the room before I turn around. “I think I’m giving my mother a chance at happiness, and rewarding a man who’s been faithful to me before I even knew he existed.”

  My father’s face is red. His hand shakes as he points a finger at me. “I do not trust the Portal. This must not happen.”

  A sense of calm fills me. “I’ve already given them my word.”

  “Without consulting me first? Or at least the Assembly?”

  “They don’t have anything to say about this. Neither do you.”

  He pounds the table with his fist. “I am the king!”

  “No, you’re not.” I’m amazed at my levelheadedness. “Look, I know Etain let you rule by her side. I know you’re used to running things the way you see best.” I straighten my shoulders so I hopefully look a little more regal. “I’ve followed your opinion on a lot of things. I’m even willing to hear you out about my own wedding if Kyran backs out of the contract, but not this.”

  “You cannot—”

  My peace shatters. “Don’t tell me what I can and cannot do.” I point toward my chest. “I am the queen. I know what Kennis gave up for you last time. You and her brother, Aldred, forced her to marry Braedon. I can’t even imagine what kind of hell that was for her. I won’t let you do it again by making her marry Devnet.”

  “Are you comparing my brother to the depravity of Braedon?”

  “Of course not.”

  “He’s a good man. Trustworthy. Their union would solidify the peace between the nobles and the Elders.”

  “But she doesn’t love him.”

  “Their friendship and respect would grow into love.”

  “It may have once, but not now.”

  This stops my father short.

  I will myself to convince him of what I know is true. “Don’t you see? You forced her once—”

  “It was necessary.”

  I bite back the sarcastic words I want to say. “That might be true, but it was still a horrible life she endured because you and Aldred decided that it would be best for Ayden. Then she left everything here to go to a whole other world. She survived, on her own, and kept me alive. She sacrificed herself again so I would be safe.”

  Geran’s voice is but firm. “It had to be done. She was the only one Etain trusted to care for you.”

  “Kennis made a life for us in the Other World. A good life.” My fingers grip the back of a chair. “For sixteen years I’ve been the only thing Mom had to worry about besides herself. She was able to grow into an independent woman. One who made her own decisions. Ran her own life.”

  Geran’s face hardens. “That is not the way things are done here in Ayden.”

  “It’s not. But if you force her to marry Devnet, as good as he is, she’ll hold it against him. She’ll never love him. She can’t go back to being the child you ordered around last time. She’s been too independent for too long.”

  “But the Portal?” My father looks as though he’s smelling something awful. “She cannot marry him.”

  “Yes, she can.” My eyes hold his in a defiant stare. “She will. And I want it done soon. Before we go to war.”

  “Why so fast?”

  “Because they’ve waited so long already.” I soften my voice. “And because I want something beautiful to hold on to, when things get worse.”

  Geran exhales slowly. “If you are meant to marry a Commoner and Kennis marries the traitor . . .” he ignores my groan, “then how are we to solidify the bonds between the nobles and the Elders?”

  I pause for a moment, thinking back to Ginessa’s Glade. All that Ruahk showed me about the people of Ayden. “I’m the bond.”

  “What?”

  The thought is clear, coming from somewhere outside of myself. “I’m the bond. I’m noble through Etain and Elder through you. I’ve been given more power than any Elder before me and I’ll only grow stronger.” I look up at my father. “Don’t you see? It’s me.”

  He studies my face as if seeing it for the first time. “Perhaps you are right.”

  Not exactly a vote of confidence, but he seems willing to accept it for now, that’s good enough for me. “Let’s go back to the others. I’m starving.”

  After dinner, I run up to Kennis’ room. A servant opens the door when I knock.

  “I’m sorry, Lady Kennis—” The woman’s eyes grow fearful when she recognizes me. “Your Majesty . . . uh . . . the Lady Kennis . . . is asleep.”

  “I don’t think she is. Let me in.”

  The servant swallows as she curtsies then opens the door. I sweep past her and cross the room to my mother’s bedroom. I give a preemptive knock before barging in.

  My mother sits in a chair by the fireplace. Her face is streaked with tears she wipes away before looking up at me. “I’m fine. Or I will be. I’ll explain it all to you tomorrow.”

  I sit down by her feet. The heat of the fire warms my arms. “No need. I read Tamra’s mind.”

  “You did what?” She tries to stand but falls back into the chair when I won’t get out of her way.

  “I knew something was wrong. She wouldn’t tell me, so I read her mind.”

  “That’s not right.”

  “I suppose you could look at it that way.” I shrug. “I like to call it creative interrogation.”

  Mom hrumphs.

  “You should have told me yourself. You never kept stuff like this secret before.”

  Her gaze wanders away from my face. She stares blankly into the fire. “Things were different then.”

  “They’re the same as they are now. You’re my mom and I will always fight for you. No matter what.”

  “But—”

  “No buts. I’m not Etain. I’m not going to let Geran or the Assembly or Braedon or even Kyran, if we get married, none of them are going to come between you and me. None of them are going to tell me what to do . .
. unless I ask them to.” I stand up to stretch my legs. “I had it out with Geran at dinner. You aren’t going to marry Devnet.”

  Her voice is barely a whisper. “What?”

  “I told him I promised you could marry Quinn. He fought me for a little while, but I convinced him that my way was best.”

  “How?”

  “Foster fortitude.”

  Kennis smiles at the mention of our old last name.

  I take her hand. “I told him I wanted the wedding as soon as possible. We need something to warm us up during this cold winter.”

  She squeezes my fingers. “How did you get to be so strong?”

  “I had a good teacher.”

  CHAPTER FIVE

  A Question of Marriage

  I watch from a balcony as Kyran rides his horse, Braga, up to the inner gates of the palace. Even from this distance, it’s easy to see the chiseled features of Kyran’s face. His light brown skin in sharp contrast to the white snow. When he jumps down, I see a well-endowed woman has joined him on his journey. He reaches up and takes her by the waist to aid her dismount. I snuff the spark of jealousy that tries to burn in my stomach. He has no idea why he’s been called here.

  A stable boy comes up to them. I smile as Kyran rubs Braga’s neck and speaks to the horse. He hands the reins to the boy and the chestnut mare follows him toward the stables. Kyran whispers something in the woman’s ear, kisses her soundly then swats her butt before leaving her at the gate. My stomach somersaults. Will he be wanting to kiss me soon? Or will he reject the contract, forcing me to find someone else to marry? Which would be worse?

  Ducking inside, I sneak into the upper alcove of the Assembly Hall so I can hear what Kyran will say to our betrothal.

  Along one side of the long wooden table in the center of the room sit Rafer, Naill, and four other men from the Commoner’s Council. Geran, Devnet, and Quinn sit along another. My father has brought two Brethren from the Sanctuary to witness whatever today will bring. A warmth spreads through me as the older of the two glances toward the balcony. I will be praying for Ruahk’s will to be done here, Your Majesty. Whatever that may be.

  Thank you, Goram. His white hair disappears as he walks out of my view, revealing the Elder standing behind him. Javan.

  My stomach clenches into a knot. I suspect, before he was named the new head of the Sanctuary, Javan made at least one attempt on my life. I have no proof of my suspicions so he has to attend any gathering of the Joint Assembly. Javan and Goram sit with the other Elders including Noam’s mother, Nitza, and my grandmother. Members of the Mystic Council are conspicuously absent.

  My heart jumps to my throat when a guard knocks and announces, “Kyran, son of Lord Donagh, has arrived.”

  The Assembly stands as Kyran enters. He’s dressed better than I’ve seen him in the past. His gray trousers are tucked into polished black boots. Over a cream linen shirt, he wears a dark blue vest made of velvet. His brown eyes survey the room. He nods when they come to rest on Devnet but he frowns when he sees Quinn. His hand grips the top of his sword. “What is he doing here?”

  Maris steps forward. “Quinn is a friend.”

  Kyran scowls. “The last time I saw him, he was threatening me and stealing your granddaughter away to Braedon. I don’t see how that makes him a friend.”

  “Much has happened since then. Quinn has proven his loyalty to the queen and her family. Everything will be explained.” Maris nods toward a servant. “First, may we offer you some refreshment after your journey?”

  Kyran’s eyes narrow. “A bit of water would suffice. A cup of wine would be even better.”

  Geran claps his hands and the servant promptly leaves. My father gestures to a chair at the head of the table. “Please, have a seat.”

  “I seem to be at a bit of a loss.” He eyes my father as he makes his way to the offered chair. “I understood from the message I received from the Elderstone that the queen wished to see me.”

  The rest of the Joint Assembly sits as he does, except for Geran. My father leans his hands on the table. “I think it best to air out any . . . bad feelings between us.”

  Kyran lets out a breathy chuckle, but otherwise doesn’t respond.

  Geran stares at his hands. “Twelve years ago I made a decision based on my personal . . . assumptions . . . about your heritage. Without giving you a chance to prove yourself worthy, I cast you out of the Sanctuary.” After a deep breath, he looks Kyran in the eyes. “For that decision I wish to offer you my apology. Late as it is in coming. I am sorry, Kyran.”

  Kyran holds Geran’s gaze for several long seconds. “You seem sincere.”

  “I am.”

  “Then I accept your apology.”

  An audible sigh of relief rises from the others around the table. Devnet stands and pats his brother on the back. “Good, good. We are all glad to hear it.”

  Geran sits and my uncle pauses to let the steward deliver a goblet of wine to Kyran, whose eyes survey the room with curiosity as he raises the cup to his lips. “Isn’t anyone else going to have something?”

  “No.” Devnet shakes his head. “Please, enjoy.”

  Kyran takes several deep swallows before setting the cup down. “I’m getting a mite nervous with you all staring at me. Can you not get to the point of this gathering? I am certain it wasn’t just for Geran’s apology.”

  “No.” Devnet paces away from the table. “We have a, well a rather delicate matter to discuss. Or perhaps propose would be a better word?” He flounders for a moment and glances around the table for help.

  Quinn stands. “Let me speak plainly for us all. Two months ago when the queen first arrived in Ayden she . . . well . . . you met her then. You know.” Quinn stares at Kyran as if expecting an answer.

  Kyran’s dark brown eyes narrow. “I have no idea what any of you are speaking about.”

  “Alystrine was not raised in Ayden. She was not raised to be a queen. It caused her to act, many times, without thought for the consequences of her actions to her safety.”

  “Ah, yes.” Kyran nods. “She did not like to follow commands. That I know.”

  A wide grin spreads over Quinn’s face. “Exactly!” He paces around to the back of the room. Kyran shifts to watch him so I slip deeper into the shadows. “So you will understand when I tell you how she did something extremely foolish in order to save the life of someone she felt she owed a debt.”

  Kyran chuckles. “Aye? What did the girl do?”

  Quinn places his hands on the back of an empty chair. “Braedon forced her to sign a betrothal contract to him in order to save the life of a boy who had helped her when she first came to Ayden. A boy she had come to care for very much.”

  “A contract?”

  Quinn nods.

  “To the Lord Regent?”

  “Aye.”

  “By the gods.” Kyran mutters and drains his cup. “I still cannot see what this has to do with me.”

  “Alystrine had learned a few things in her short time in Ayden. She insisted I translate the contract so she could understand what it entailed. She had the wording changed so that only Braedon’s children could inherit the throne if she died. Not Lord Braedon himself.”

  “Aye? Well that was smart of her.”

  “I was instructed to rewrite the contract, which I did, but with one other change unknown to either Braedon or Alystrine.”

  “What was that?”

  “I took Braedon’s name off the document so that it read only that Lord Donagh’s eldest son would marry the queen within a year of her coronation. They both signed the contract without noticing the alteration.”

  Even from where I stand, some fifty feet away, I can see the reality of Quinn’s pronouncement register across Kyran’s face. He pales noticeably under his dark skin. He picks up the goblet but replaces it immediately when he sees that it’s empty.

  “Are you saying what I think you are?” Kyran pushes himself up from his chair. “You mean for me to wed the quee
n?”

  “It is not as rash as it sounds at first.” Quinn walks around the table, stopping a few feet from Kyran. “After Geran refused you entrance to the Sanctuary, I kept my eye on you. I felt the decision was unjust and I was curious to see if he’d been right.”

  “And what did you decide? After I made my bed with the dregs of society among the bandits of the Fey?”

  “I knew what I believed about you was true. That you were, are a decent man. Honest, brave, and gifted through your Elder mother with talents from Ruahk.” Quinn takes another step toward Kyran. “And then I learned how you protected Alystrine in the Fey. You were willing to die for her. I knew for certain the quality of your heart.”

  “I still don’t know how you thought of me . . . to be her husband.”

  “I hadn’t known Braedon would move so fast to force her signature. And I knew I could not convince her to let the boy die rather than sign. I prayed for wisdom and Ruahk placed your face in my mind. I believe it is his will that you wed the queen and help her rule Ayden.”

  “You are mad.” Kyran runs a hand over his short hair. He looks around at the others. “You’re all mad if you agree to this. No one will accept me as her husband. I am nothing.”

  I’m thankful Naill stands up to take over the argument. His gray hair and lined face give him authority that Quinn lacks. “Now there you are wrong. The Council of Commons has agreed unanimously to back your betrothal.”

  Kyran shakes his head. “Why?”

  Naill laughs deep from his belly. “For that reaction alone, man. You have lived among us for these past twelve years in humility and friendship. You never failed to offer another help if they needed, unless they be one of the true thieves of the Fey. But even to them you have shown compassion when it was warranted. You have the blood of both the ruling classes within you, but your heart . . . your soul . . . is with us.” He puts an arm around Kyran’s shoulder. “You alone could unite this land to fight for Alystrine. Together, the two of you might bring us peace.”