Her hands trembled, and she noticed as the noise of the room silenced to a ringing. Her pull on the birds let go, and they flew out the window… all but her raven, who sat on the windowsill with its back to her as she was forced up onto her knees.
She’d have rather been burned.
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
IT WAS TWICE more in the month before the next Council meeting that she was forced into his study and given the choice of he taking her on her knees or he taking Nyssa.
She would protect her sister at any cost.
Both mornings on which Lex found her lying atop her covers, she argued with her about what he was doing.
“Lex, please. There is nothing we can do,” Aydra hissed at her on the second morning.
“There is,” Lex argued. “Do you think the people would stand it if they knew what he was doing to you—”
“The people love him,” Aydra interjected. “They think he is fair, that he takes care of them, merciful… they think him to be perfect. The greatest of the Promised Kings so far.”
“Do you believe Dorian and Nyssa would stand for this?”
“I will not be dragging them into it,” Aydra argued. “This is my fight. They cannot know anything about it.”
“And Draven?”
Aydra almost balked. “What about him?”
“You two—”
“Had sex?” Aydra said incredulously. “I have sex with a lot of people. Draven is no different from any other.”
She knew it was a lie. But she wasn’t sure why it was a lie or what made it any different from her other conquests.
Aydra’s ankles healed within a few days of her going and dangling them in her mother’s waters. She would stare at the tree she’d been born beneath in silence, it’s great white limbs pouring out into the sky high high above her. She didn’t normally adorn the Throne Room where their mother’s tree was unless they were receiving formal guests. They’d only truly used it once since Aydra’s being crowned six years earlier. It was a sacred place, not to be taken as just another room in the castle.
As she sat there, she would daydream about all the times she’d visited her mother in the past, the time when she’d walked into the Throne Room at the age of ten and found her mother sitting at the base of the tree. And in her arms were two infants. Arbina was singing a song to them, a song Aydra had never been taught the words to.
The infants had barely stirred, and Arbina had smiled up at Aydra, the beauty of her features lighting up in the sunlight glittering off her skin.
“Hello, my daughter,” she’d cooed at Aydra. “Would you like to meet your brother and sister?”
Being ten, and having not ever seen an infant before, Aydra was weary of the small beings in Arbina’s arms. But Arbina stood from the roots of her tree and took the small marble walkway to cross the space between them.
“Sit down in the chair,” Arbina told her with a nod towards what was then Zoria’s throne.
Aydra sat down, and Arbina stepped forward and placed one of the infants in her arms. Red hair stood stark against the small child’s pale skin. Aydra cradled the child against her, careful with its head.
“This is Nyssari,” Arbina informed her. “Your sister.”
Aydra looked up at the other child against Arbina’s chest. Its thick black hair was wavy on its head. “Is that my brother?” Aydra asked.
“Dorian is his name,” Arbina answered.
“What are their surnames?” Aydra had wondered.
Arbina sighed and bounced Dorian in her arms a moment. “I’m not yet sure. Such will be determined upon their markings.”
“Will she be marked like me?” Aydra asked.
“Her mark will be determined by her actions. Like your mark was determined by the raven who chose you, hers will be by the creature that chooses her.”
Aydra stared down at the redheaded infant in her arms. The child yawned, and Aydra felt herself smiling at her dear sister, chest swelling with a pride she was unfamiliar with. “I’ll protect her,” she promised.
Arbina had smiled at her, and then reached out to stroke Aydra’s cheek. “You will.”
Her raven landed on her arm.
Aydra snapped back to the reality of the present with a shake of her head.
The sheen on the white tree caught her eye from the sun, and she smiled as the great Aenean Orel circled the room above her. The hairs on Aydra’s arm stood, and she felt another energy appear behind her. She sighed into the familiar energy, but didn’t move from the spot she sat on.
“Hello, mother.”
The wind of someone walking around her pulsed through her hair. A soft touch grazed her arm, and she looked up over her shoulder to see her mother’s corporeal form: Arbina Promregis Amaris.
She was the most beautiful woman Aydra swore she would ever see. As tall as Aydra, but thinner, less shapely. She always wore a thin white dress over her pale skin, belted with golden rope at her waist. Her white-blonde hair was usually pulled back away from her face, but today, its loose curls laid long to her waist. Widened blue-green eyes stared down her thin nose at Aydra’s sitting figure, her high, sharp cheeks intimidating on her long thin face. Her full lips rose upwards at the corners, and she gave Aydra a short nod.
“Hello, my daughter,” she said in her sing-song voice.
The appearance of her made Aydra’s breath shorten, emotion bubbling to the surface as she felt so small beside her. Arbina sat down at Aydra’s side and began playing with Aydra’s hair.
“What bothers you, my child?” Arbina asked.
Aydra didn’t know where to start. She sighed and stared out at the golden sun over the ocean, contemplating the stresses on her mind. “I think I am failing my sister,” she chose. “I have been so consumed with trying to be a protector and guardian of this realm, I’ve neglected
