Chapter 2
Chapter
Two
ALLIE
T he Clan wedding of the decade–which nobody understood or wanted–shouldn’t have started with a secret meeting.
Yet here I was, pacing through our sacred Protectorate garden, attempting to talk reason into three obstinate men.
Well, two-and-a-half obstinate men. Uncle Maksim, despite pushing the weathered side of sixty years-old, was the most reasonable.
“This is madness.” The words scraped against my clenched teeth as my sea-blue gown trailed over the pavement slabs engraved with the Protectorate sigil. Some of the elders still thought they were protective runes in disguise, but nobody had managed to crack their mystery.
The whole of Sanctua Sirena pulsed with my Clan’s might in every emblem and embossed sconce, ever since Adriana “Dria” Vegheara’s time, centuries past. They kept this island secret and safe. But right now, these sigils caught my heels, unbalancing me and aggravating me further.
Only about half the guests had arrived and everyone already whispered that this wedding was one of the worst ideas in Malhaven’s history.
The only one who refused to acknowledge that unavoidable reality was the bride and my cousin, Evelina “Evie” Vegheara.
After missing for sixteen long years, she’d returned from what we’d all feared was the grave, and shocked us all once more by revealing she intended to marry Fabrian Bazin, arguably the worst Clan heir in Malhaven.
At least The Dragon, who ruled the Blood Brotherhood with steel and might, was a terrifying warrior. Rumors said his Commander, a man cloaked in secrets and shadows, was even more fearsome.
The Dragon was also the reason this wedding had to remain a secret until that blasted marriage contract was signed.
Otherwise, we were all in danger.
“The line between madness and sanity is drawn by the observer,” my father, the great Alaric “Aric” Vegheara, said.
While I roamed aimlessly, a bundle of hectic energy, he stood as still as the bone-white cliffs surrounding us, gazing up at the birds flitting between the linden trees.
He was a composed man, my father. Always slow to anger, wise words at the ready, preferring books to battles.
The perfect qualities for a Clan leader during times of peace–even one who’d inherited the throne on a technicality. Falor Vegheara, his big brother, had taken Evie and his wife and vanished in the dead of night, leaving the Protectorate throne unclaimed.
My father had been forced to take Grandpa Constantine’s crown and I would wear it proudly when my time came.
I would also protect my Clan as fiercely as I’d been raised to.
“Serpents are swarming our island, led by their beast of an heir, who plans on marrying my cousin, and we’re not doing anything .” My voice rose higher than I’d wanted. “Sanity has sailed halfway across Marea Luminara by now.”
“Careful, my little ember.” My father looked at me from the corner of his eye, still not moving. “The Serpents are scoundrels, but they have very good spies.”
I clenched my jaw and flicked my fingers, my Protectorate power seeping out in blue tendrils that rushed around the garden, carried by the salty sea breeze. “ Shield our tongues and hide our sounds .”
The murmurs from the main courtyard muffled. If I couldn’t hear the guests’ gossip and the Protectorate sentinels marching, nobody could hear us either.
“About time you made yourself useful, dear,” my only remaining official uncle, Silas, said from behind.
“You could have done it yourself, you know?” I said, turning just enough so I could narrow my eyes on him. There was only one bench in this whole garden and Silas had sat his indolent behind on it as soon as we’d arrived. “We’re all First Family, we all have power.”
As Grandpa Constantine’s Fourth Son and my father’s last living brother, Silas had a right to be here for this improvised council. But, as always, he added nothing to the discussion at hand except complaints. My heart sometimes ached for Clara at having such a waste of a father.
Silas shrugged, as he always did. “It’s not my voice that carries.”
“A true leader’s voice needs to. And she’s such a strong magic wielder. Getting better by the day.” Uncle Maksim shook his shaved head. “If I still had hair, it would’ve blown in the gust she generated.”
I sent a small smile his way. Uncle Maksim wasn’t my uncle at all. He was the last one of Grandpa Constantine’s siblings still standing, but great-uncle didn’t have the same ring to it. Plus, he’d been more of a parent to my cousins Dax and Dara than their own.
Uncle Maksim was rough around the edges and had a mean bite, especially when someone said something stupid about our family.
And Silas had a lot of stupid shit to say.
“She’s always been strong,” my father said with nothing but affection. “And strong-headed.”
“Thank you,” I said primly. I hadn’t earned the reputation of The Huntress and had my name cursed by a thousand souls across Malhaven by being a wallflower. “So how do we solve this?”
“It’s not really our place to do it, is it?” Silas said, oblivious to the way Uncle Maksim scowled at him. “Not our wedding.”
“Evie says she loves him,” my father said, ignoring his brother as best he could. “Can’t be talked out of it, I’ve tried.”
“When?” I asked, surprised.
Ever since Evie had appeared at our castle in Aquila in the dead of night, bloody and scared, I had only left her side when she visited Grandpa Constantine’s mausoleum.
As a Vegheara, I knew showing weakness was almost criminal.
So I let her mourn in solitude and pretended she didn’t come back with reddened eyes and a runny nose, like any good First Family cousin would.
“I hadn’t visited my father's grave in more months than I like to admit,” my father said.
I narrowed my eyes. “You knew she’d be there.”
He shrugged. “Maybe it was just a happy coincidence.”
“Grandpa Constantine taught my cousins and I that there are no coincidences.”
“Funny. He taught me and my brothers the same thing.”
“I can attest to that,” Silas said. “He’d gotten a bit loose in the lips during his old age.”
“Plan on walking in his footsteps, ey, Silas?” Uncle Maksim asked.
“This is not a day for quarreling,” my father said, more patiently than I ever could. “It should be a joyous occasion.”
“Dad.” I pinched the bridge of my nose. “You know I usually love going around in circles with you, but we don’t have time for this. Not today.”
While he was a serene lake, I was a sea storm, he always said. With eyes as green as the depths staring back on the brightest day, a gift from my mother, the great Lisette “Lisa” Vegheara–may the gods have mercy on her beautiful soul that was taken much too early from us.
“We’re Protectorate, Allie,” he said so calmly, he made me want to scream. “We make our own time.”
“How do we make this wedding go away?” I asked.
“We can’t.”
I exhaled through my nose. “Why? We’re one of the most powerful Clans in Malhaven. The only Clan who would even think to directly challenge us is the Blood Brotherhood and–”
Uncle Maksim spit on the ground. “Those bloody warlords shouldn’t be mentioned on Sanctua Sirena.”
“ Fine ,” I said. “But my point still stands. Why ?”
“Allie, some things require patience.” My father speared me with that endless gaze of his. The one that always seemed to keep too much from me. “Especially leading a Clan, which you will do. Evie does not want the throne–”
I froze mid-stride, my heart falling near my riding boots. “How do you know?”
“I asked her.”
“Did you offer it to her?”
“Of course,” he said, oblivious to the sudden storm gathering inside me. As if he hadn’t just insulted every hour I sacrificed to prove I’d earned the throne. “She was the rightful heir before she vanished.”
Yes.
Was .
Before her parents had kidnapped her and hid her so masterfully, not even Grandpa Constantine had found them.
But then he’d made my father his successor and had concentrated all his efforts on raising me to rule.
From diplomacy to defending, Grandpa Constantine had been an almanac of knowledge and I’d become his grateful student.
We’d lock ourselves away for hours on end as he’d poured everything he’d learned during his reign into my curious ears.
Some part of me still wondered if he’d dedicated so many waking hours to teaching me to make sure I was almost always in his sights, so I wouldn’t be snatched away like Evie had.
Another part questioned how much faith Grandpa Constantine truly had in my father and his abilities if he was so adamant with his lessons.
In the past sixteen years, the throne had become my right. Not by birth, but through blood and bruises on the training ring, paper cuts and headaches in the library, and countless nights stolen by urgent negotiations.
A right I would have parted with if Evie had expressed even the slightest interest in it. Perhaps I would have done it begrudgingly at first, after almost a lifetime of being trained for the crown. But all those skills I’d gathered and worked for would have made me an excellent advisor as well.
My father had no right to offer my future behind my back.
My knees threatened to buckle, but I locked them.
The First Daughter stood tall, even when the ground crumbled underneath her.
Sixteen years.
Sixteen years I’d bled myself dry for the crown and honor to protect my Clan and he made it sound like it meant nothing .
He hadn’t even said it with any spite–Alaric Vegheara’s sinless heart did not stoop to such wretched emotions.
But it hurt me just the same–and made me wonder.
He’d been acting strange these past few months, long before Evie had appeared in our lives again.
At first, I’d blamed it on the anniversary of Mom’s death turning him even more melancholic and lost in his own special world nobody else was invited into. Yet he’d been odd even by Vegheara standards.