“After the attacks on Grale and Mern, we have taken in two magnificent children, also with royal blood,” Olivia said. Deep down she knew that the people would never accept replacing the leader of Men with an heir who did not own her name, or her blood. It was just a senseless hope. The blood of the creator flowed through her veins. “I thought that would buy us more time, a distraction from all the pressure.”
“My beautiful queen,” Gretchen said softly, as if she shared the melancholy of Olivia’s predicament. “Royal blood is not the same as sacred blood, and you can’t adopt Indrid. He is here under our protection until he comes of age. And Anna doesn’t belong to Ikarus either. She still has family on Mern. They won’t be here forever. And technically, Montague and I have taken them in. Grale will ask for their count back, and Anna’s relatives will expect their maiden to return when their homes are rebuilt. You can adopt and foster all the children you want, but none of them will ever take the place of your own blood, my queen.”
Olivia struggled to understand what was so special about her blood and her ancestor, the dubbed the creator, Gabriel Volpi. She appeared no different than anyone else. Even the alternate version of history didn’t speak of the superiority of Volpi blood, at least not that Montague had ever told her. The importance of her family felt more like a curse.
“Come! Let’s go to see Montague. He can settle my little suspicion,” Gretchen said.
“But it was just hours ago that Alexandal and I were together. I haven’t seen him in months. How would Montague possibly be able to tell if I’m pregnant?”
“Trust me. He will know.” Gretchen grabbed Olivia by the wrist and headed down the spiral staircase of the great chamber.
IN THE study hall of the library, books of various sizes and ages were stacked up to the ceiling, tipping across the tops of the aisles where Montague La-Rose laid out a blanket and prepared to meditate.
The early mornings were usually quiet and empty. Montague used that time for his daily attempt to contact Burton Lang, wherever he might be. The only part of Burton that Montague had been able to sense was his sensei’s sword. A piece of Burton still existed in his blade forged out of metal, light, and his own angelic blood. Shortly after the Great Migration, Gretchen had delivered the sword to Burton’s son, Sir Simon Atikan, now the keeper of the Graleon throne, just as Burton had requested.
Montague knew that if both he and Burton were in the same mental state of awareness, it was possible to communicate telepathically, no matter the distance. Burton had told him, “With a silent mind, you can find anyone, anywhere, and in any land or planet. When both of your eyes close, a third will open.” But so far, no connection had been made. It was as if Burton Lang no longer existed, and this worried Montague greatly.
Since his sensei had told him to unite the kingdoms, he asked the queen to keep close by the royal children who had been brought to Ikarus. But it seemed suspicious, too convenient that they came to him so easily—by unfortunate circumstances—but they were simply brought to him. Could it be a trap, he thought? If it was, he knew the children were safer with him than someone who had no idea what was actually happening. The Nekrums were using Demitri to corral the royal families. Eight of the eleven living members of the royal family of Mern were now in Ikarus. Not only was there only one living Volpi, there was now only one Cole, the Graleon royal family name, left alive and he was only nine years old. Arland must have seen the mages coming and sent Indrid to Ikarus before they reached the shore, Montague thought. The mountains of Grale reached far into the sky, just beneath the clouds.
On the verge of tapping into the void of consciousness, Montague heard the main doors of the library creak open. He could tell that the visitors were trying to enter unnoticed. The doors sounded louder when they were pushed slowly. It was impossible to arrive in silence. He heard footsteps approaching. “What is it?” Montague asked, keeping his eyes closed.
“Monte,” a soft voice said.
Montague immediately recognized her voice. “My queen,” he said politely. He rose to his feet and bowed.
Olivia was peeking around the doorway as Gretchen nudged her forward.
“Good morning. I apologize for the sudden intrusion, being that it is so early, but I need you to examine me. I’ve been feeling quite ill lately.”
There was a different truth behind her words. Montague knew it. Olivia would always look away and speak softly whenever she was embarrassed or had a personal matter to discuss.
“I think she might be—” Gretchen began, speaking out of turn.
“—sick with a stomach bug. I must be,” Olivia nearly shouted. Although there was a brilliant radiance surrounding her, she seemed anxious.
Montague smiled. The queen’s recent early-morning nausea and eating habits suggested to him that something much bigger was happening. “You came to find out if you are pregnant, no?”
At first Olivia hesitated. She looked wide-eyed at Montague. “Yes,” she said, turning her eyes to the floor.
Montague had not enjoyed giving her the unfortunate news that she was not pregnant several times before. But that did not hinder his confidence. The Volpi bloodline would continue and he swore to make sure of that. There were other ways; ways that might be mistaken for dark magic. A conjuring had been on his mind for some time now. But he did not bring this idea up to the queen, not yet. Montague would rather that the conception be natural. It would be safer for the mother.
While he had submerged himself in Gabriel’s Dairy, Montague finally cracked the code to the planet’s quarantine. The ritual he’d discovered was dangerous, but
