Lost Heir (Blood Weaver Trilogy #2)

Chapter 18

18

B reakfast the next morning was a quiet affair. A little too quiet, if I really thought about it. My mother didn’t offer any snarky remarks or comments about what happened in the Grand Hall last night; nor did either of my parents question me about Ronan, which I fully expected, given how angry Caelan was last night when he stormed out of my room. I expected him to go running straight to my mother to tell her what happened. But everyone was so … calm . It was unsettling. Luckily Caelan wasn’t here to fuel the flames.

I cleared my throat and turned to where my father sat at the head of the table. “I have a request.”

He nodded. “Sure. What is it, Lyanna?”

I bit my lower lip and said the words in a rush before I could chicken out. “I want to learn blood weaving.”

The already quiet dining hall turned deathly still. Marcellus was the first to break the tension.

“Blood weaving?” he repeated. “I’ve never heard of that. I want to learn, too!” he said giddily .

I rolled my eyes. “You want to learn, yet you have no idea what it is?”

He shrugged. “It sounds interesting.”

Our father coughed into his hand. “Lyanna … where did you hear that term?”

I frowned at the rising tension that permeated the room. “Sir Edric told me. He said it was one of the abilities I have, but I haven’t learned how to do it.”

“Gods damn that bastard!” my mother shouted as she tossed her napkin on top of her full plate.

“Excuse me?” I felt as if I’d just been slapped. “What did you say?”

“You heard me clearly,” she scoffed. “That bastard kept you hidden for years and still couldn’t keep his mouth shut!”

“And it’s good he didn’t, because who knew what could have happened to me if I’d returned to Valoria!” I shouted. “You might’ve decided to send me to the Grasslands on one of your whims.”

My mother gasped. “I would never!”

I smiled at her condescendingly. “Sure, Mother.”

“Enough!” my father interrupted. “Lyanna, do you know what blood weaving entails?”

I nodded. “Slitting my wrists,” I answered confidently. Sir Edric had given me a brief overview when I contacted him using the Crimson Clan’s witch doctor.

“Whoa!” Marcellus turned his attention to me. “What exactly is blood weaving?”

I chuckled. “Something only I can do.”

He sighed and rolled his eyes. “Of course it is.”

“From the moon goddess, we’ve learned that blood weaving takes a toll on the practitioner that goes well beyond physical scarring, Lyanna. Are you sure you want to do this?” my father asked .

I paused, weighing his words and the implications behind them. “I understand the risks,” I said, meeting his gaze firmly. “But if it's a part of who I am, part of the power I possess, then I need to learn. To not only protect myself, but those I care for.”

My mother snorted and rolled her eyes. “Interesting to hear you say that, although I’m guessing I’m not included in those you care for, since you so attacked me last night.”

I winced with the realization that my comment came back to bite me in the ass. Still, I refused to back down. “Let’s not pretend, Mother. You and I both know you’ve never liked me much.”

She was about to counter when my father interrupted, ignoring our squabble completely. “Lyanna, are you sure about this? Blood weaving can be dangerous.”

I turned my attention back to him. “I’m positive. I think it’s for the best.”

My father nodded slowly, though lines of concern were etched deeply on his face. “I can't say I'm thrilled with this decision, but I trust you know what you're doing. We'll need to find you a suitable teacher; someone who can guide you without putting you in unnecessary danger.”

“That's just it, isn't it?” my mother interjected, her tone cutting. “Who in Valoria knows about such dark arts? You're inviting trouble, Lyanna, meddling in powers better left untouched.”

I scoffed. “If it was dark arts, how come the moon goddess was a Blood Weaver? Are you saying the moon goddess was—”

“Lyanna!” my father stopped me before I could go further.

Tension rose as the breakfast that was meant to be a quiet family gathering turned into a battleground of wills. “ It's not about inviting trouble, Mother. It's about being prepared for it,” I countered. “Sir Edric believed I was capable, and I trust his judgment.”

Marcellus, ever the peacekeeper, tried to lighten the mood. “Well, if Lyanna turns into a powerful Blood Weaver, I guess I'll have to up my game, as well. Can't have my big sister outshining me.”

His attempt at humor did little to dissolve the tension, but it did bring a small smile to my face. I was grateful for the levity in his words. “Thank you, Marcellus. I appreciate the support.”

My father cleared his throat, drawing our attention back to him. “We will discuss this further and find the best way forward. If this is truly your path, Lyanna, then we will ensure you have the support and guidance you need.”

The rest of the breakfast passed in strained silence, with each family member lost in their own thoughts. As the meal concluded and we stood to leave, I couldn't help but feel a mix of determination and apprehension. I was about to embark on a journey that could change everything. And yet, despite the uncertainty, I felt a sense of purpose, a calling to embrace my heritage and the powers that came with it. Especially if it could help me with whatever was to come. I was convinced Caelan had something up his sleeve.

As we parted ways, my resolve hardened. Blood weaving might be considered a dark, dangerous art, but it was part of me and the gift I’d been given. And with the right guidance, I believed I could master it; not for power or prestige, but for the protection of those I loved.

“Lyanna!” Marcellus called out to me as I walked out of the dining hall on my way back to the Eastern palace. “Wait up!”

I turned around with a raised brow. “Yes? ”

He looked around to make sure no one was close enough to listen before whispering, “I heard something happened after we left Mother’s display in the Grand Hall last night.”

So rumors had spread, just not through Caelan. Interesting. “Caelan paid me an unexpected visit last night … and Ronan was around.”

“Oh … oh !” he gasped as he caught on to my insinuation. “Lyanna, you haven’t …”

I rolled my eyes. “Marcellus, this is not a conversation I want to have with my baby brother,” I sighed. “We can talk about anything but this.”

He nodded. “Deal. So what did Caelan do?”

“He wanted to fight Ronan, what else? I expected him to run straight to Mother and tell her all the sordid details, but she didn’t mention anything at breakfast. It was … strange, don’t you think?”

“Do you think Caelan is planning something?” Marcellus asked carefully.

“Definitely. Which was why I brought up the blood weaving. I need to prepare for whatever is to come,” I admitted. “Being a blood mage will only take me so far. I need to get stronger, more powerful.”

Marcellus rubbed his lower lip. “Hmm … I’ll be honest, Lyanna, I don’t think Father is planning to help you learn anything. Especially with Mother being so against it.”

I shrugged. “I figured, but I thought I’d ask anyway. I guess I’ll just have to figure it out on my own.”

My brother’s eyes widened. “Oh, can I help? I want to see what blood weaving is about!” he said eagerly.

I chuckled. “You want to help me learn?”

He nodded. “Yeah, why not?”

I eyed him for a moment, wondering if he had some ulterior motive. When I couldn’t find any indecision or manipulation in his gaze, I nodded. “Fine. Meet me in the Eastern garden after lunch. We’ll start today.”

His eyes lit up with excitement, and I saw a spark of his usual mischief. “Are you serious? This is going to be epic!” He clapped excitedly. “But, uh, you do know how to start, right?”

I paused as the weight of his question sank in. Sir Edric only had time to provide a broad overview of blood weaving, nothing more. “We'll figure it out,” I assured him, though I felt a twinge of uncertainty myself. “I'm sure there are some books in the library we can check out. We’ll start there.”

“Books? I was hoping for something more hands-on,” Marcellus grumbled, but the curiosity was evident in his tone. “Alright, count me in. This will be far better than any lesson at the Mage Academy.”

The Mage Academy. Yet another experience that was stolen from me when I had to disappear and go into hiding.

Marcellus bounded off, excited for our new venture. I smiled at his enthusiasm. It was a rare moment where the Prince of Valoria seemed more like an eager child than the heir to the throne. But his reaction reminded me of the seriousness of the path on which I was about to embark. Blood weaving wasn't a game or a mere curiosity to be explored on a whim. It was a potent and potentially perilous art that could very well change the course of our lives.

I spent the morning in the library, pouring through a stack of books longer than my arm. When I returned to the Eastern palace with another mountain of books, I was surprised to find Ronan waiting for me. I asked Tessa to bring the books to my chamber so I could greet my guest. She grabbed the books out of my hand and headed down the corridor.

I walked over to Ronan, who was seated at a table in the gardens, the top covered by a brightly colored tablecloth and silver place settings. “What are you doing here?” I raised a brow and waved at the table. “And what is all this?”

He frowned. “Did you forget already? We’re supposed to have lunch together.”

“Oh! By the goddess, I forgot all about it!” I sat across from him with a sheepish expression. “I’m sorry, my mind has been elsewhere all morning.”

“Did your father bring us up during breakfast?” Ronan asked carefully.

I shook my head. “No. No one mentioned a thing. It was odd,” I mumbled. “But I’m sure Caelan is up to something. I can almost guarantee it.”

“And you’re most likely right.” He waved for one of my ladies-in-waiting to bring over our lunch. “I took a little trip to the capital this morning and thought you’d enjoy some wine,” he smirked.

“Love in the Moonlight?” I gasped. “You sure know the way to my heart.”

“Of course I do!” he laughed.

The ladies made quick work of setting the table with an array of fragrant dishes. As they worked, my gaze settled on Ronan, a mix of gratitude and affection warming my heart. The fact that he remembered my fondness for wine made this moment even more special.

“I can't believe you went all the way to the capital just for this.” I picked up the jug and uncorked it, taking a deep whiff of the fruity aroma.

“If it’s for you, I’d traverse the uncharted North. Nothing is impossible,” he said, his tone and expression as serious as I’d ever heard it.

The area North of Valoria and Keldara was known as the uncharted North , where civilization hadn’t settled. The lands were vast and largely unknown. Many went on expeditions there and never returned. As such, the area was shrouded in mystery to all those in Asteria.

“I would never ask that of you,” I said as I poured myself a cup of wine.

“But for you, I would,” he said, his crimson gaze intense.

His declaration stirred something deep within me, a mix of awe and fear at the lengths he was willing to go for me. The uncharted North was a place of legends and unknown dangers, yet here Ronan sat, ready to face it all for my sake if I asked.

I reached across the table and clasped his hand. “Let's hope it never comes to that.” I squeezed his hand gently. “I couldn't bear the thought of you in danger because of me.”

Ronan's grip tightened, his thumb caressing the back of my hand. “I know. I feel the same way. If you were ever to get hurt because of me, I … I don’t know what I would do. I would lose my mind.”

“That won’t ever happen. I’m going to get stronger. More powerful. Just wait and see.”

Ronan frowned. “You’re already powerful, Leila. You don’t need to push yourself just to—”

I shook my head lightly. “I’m not. I simply have some untapped potential that I want to learn how to use. It’s no big deal.” I offered a broad smile. He smiled in return, but I sensed his uneasiness. “I’ll be fine, Ronan. I promise.”

He eyed me carefully. “If this is because of last night, you don’t have to—”

I shook my head again. “It’s not because of that. Caelan is getting out of hand, and I should have put a stop to it back in the Central Plains. I can’t sit back and wait for him to escalate things anymore.”

I knew he wanted to give me a big fat ‘I told you so’, but he valiantly restrained himself. There was a lot I should have listened to Ronan about that I now regretted. All I could do at this point was move forward and find solutions.

“Your Highness?” Tessa approached after the ladies finished placing the last plate of food on the table. “Before you start eating, please let me test the food.”

I frowned. “Pardon?”

“For poison,” Tessa clarified.

I knew people tested our food for breakfast, but I had no idea Tessa was doing it for lunch and dinner. I waved her off. “There shouldn’t be any problems, Tessa. I—”

“Your Highness,” she interrupted, “I have to.”

Ronan cleared his throat. “Let her do it, Leila. It’s her job.”

I reluctantly nodded as Tessa approached with a small plate and utensils. She picked at every dish, eating a portion of each and tasting them for poisons. The whole situation made me uneasy. I didn’t want to put Tessa in any unnecessary risk.

After a moment, she stepped back and nodded. “Everything is fine, Your Highness.”

“Thank you, Tessa,” I mumbled as she excused herself to give us privacy.

Under the midday sun, we enjoyed lunch and stayed to innocent, light topics. He didn’t broach the subject of Caelan further, nor did I explain that I planned to learn blood weaving. I didn’t know what Ronan’s reaction would be; I preferred to find out once the damage was done.

Throughout our meal, Ronan reached for my hand and held it, cementing our status and making our affection obvious to any who passed by. Soon there would be gossip, and that gossip would spiral back to my parents. Then, we would wait and see what happened.

As we finished our meal, a bevy of court ladies whisked our empty plates and jug of wine away, leaving us alone. Ronan cleared his throat. “Leila … there’s something I have to tell you.”

My brows raised at his grave tone. “What happened?”

He shook his head. “Nothing serious, but I received a letter from my father. He wants me to return to the Grasslands as soon as possible.”

My brows shot up to my hairline in surprise. “Why? Did something happen?”

Ronan shrugged. “I don’t know. He didn’t say.”

I bit my lip and tried to suppress the worry that bubbled inside me. “You're going back, aren't you?” The thought of being apart from Ronan, especially now, felt like a punch to the gut.

He took a deep breath, his gaze locked with mine. “I have to, at least long enough to find out what he wants. But I promise you, Leila, I will return.”

My heart sank, but I understood. Ronan had responsibilities, just as I had mine. “I know. It's just … with everything going on with Caelan, and my parents soon learning of our relationship … it feels like the world is against us.”

Ronan reached out and cupped my face gently. “The world might be against us, but we have something stronger than any of them—our love for each other. That's not easily broken.”

His words offered a semblance of comfort, but the fear of the unknown lingered. “Just … be careful, okay? I don't trust yo ur father, and I don't want you caught in the middle of a dangerous political scheme.”

“I will,” he assured me, his thumb brushing away a stray tear that escaped. “And I want you to promise me something in return.”

“What is it?”

“Promise me you'll stay safe while I'm gone. Don't take any unnecessary risks, especially when it comes to Caelan. Wait for me to come back and we'll figure it out together.”

I nodded, the lump in my throat making it hard to speak. “I promise. When do you plan to leave?”

“In three days,” he answered solemnly.

Three days would go by in the blink of an eye. As we stood to leave the garden, Ronan held my hand tightly, almost as if he was afraid I’d disappear if he let go. Our walk back inside the palace was silent, each of us lost in our thoughts of the future and the challenges that awaited us.

As we reached the entrance to the Eastern palace, Ronan pulled me into a tight embrace. “I promise to spend as much of the next three days with you as I possibly can.”

I wrapped my arms around him, holding on for a few moments longer. “You better,” I snorted.

“I have a few things to take care of before I leave. Mainly, I need to send word to my father that I received his message and will return. When I’m done, I’ll find you. Okay?”

I nodded.

With a gentle kiss, he turned and walked away, his figure disappearing out of the Eastern palace. As I watched him go, I made a silent vow to myself. I would become stronger for him, for us. And when he returned, we would face whatever came our way together, as one.