River of Lavender (Allium #3)

River of Lavender (Allium #3)

By Mallory Benjamin

Prologue

PROLOGUE

SAVANNAH

“You’re needed in the war tent.”

“War tent?” I whipped my head toward the soldier who approached me. It was the only tent that held detailed maps of each territory. My father often went there alone to think, but he never requested anyone to join him unless he was holding council. “What’s being discussed? What happened?”

“I wasn’t privy to that information. I only know it’s where your father is, and that he requested your presence immediately.”

“The meeting is now? I’m nowhere close to there.”

He cocked a grin like he knew I was screwed. “Better get running, Lavender .”

I bristled. I hated the nickname my father’s men gave me ever since I started dyeing my hair purple. Not that I was going to change it back to my natural blonde just because they didn’t like it. I loved my hair, and I knew I looked good. I was about to lay into him and tell him just that, but he was right. I had to run if I wanted to even remotely make it on time, and my dad wouldn’t wait for me to start a meeting. It was a lesson I learned one too many times, and there was no way I was missing this. I started sprinting across the stretch of flat land, not caring who I blew past in the process or how crazy I looked.

When I pushed the flaps open, I found my father and brother already sitting at the table. Wheezing, I rested my hands on my knees while scanning the rest of the tent, but no one else was here. “I thought there was a meeting?”

I could feel my father’s gaze assessing me. He eyed my newest tattoo across my forearm before his gaze strayed to the large hoop ring through my nose. He hated all my piercings and tattoos, though I had way more of the latter. But I was old enough now that he couldn’t stop me.

“There will be an official meeting soon,” he said carefully. “I wanted to talk to you both before it happens.”

I sank down into the chair next to my brother, still trying to catch my breath. My father folded his arms as he sat across from us. There was an Advenian map stretched in front of him with a half-drunk glass of ale sitting on top it.

I picked up the ale before my father could protest and finished it in one long gulp. He glared at me, but I only smiled. “It was ruining the map,” I commented, cringing that the condensation had already seeped through the paper.

I loved the war tent. It was my favorite place in our home. It was the only place I liked here. I tried to leave the horrid tents whenever I could. But this tent… it held the wonders I sought. I often snuck in here to rummage through his files, snooping whenever I could. I stared at the maps, trying to memorize every place until my head throbbed, wishing I could see everything in person instead of just on paper.

My brother was tapping his foot against the grass beside me. He was anxious, and his nervous tics often drove me insane, though I tried not to let it show. He hated the tents too, or anywhere else for that matter, besides his lab.

“They’re coming here.”

“That’s good news,” I said slowly as I set the empty glass back down on the table away from the map. “I miss everyone. It’s been a while since we had a visit—”

He cut me off. “It’s not a visit. They’re coming because they fled their city. You don’t understand, Sav, they started a war, and they’re bringing it right to us.”

“Holy Goddess of shit balls.” I blew out a breath.

No one said anything as the silence stretched out between us. I waited for my father to elaborate, but he didn’t. My brother’s leg shook to the point where he started rattling the table.

“Who is everyone exactly?” I finally asked because I knew it was eating my brother up inside, wondering if Arcane was included.

Wells tensed, and I gently placed my hand over his knee under the table so our father wouldn’t see. I was hoping it would calm him, but I selfishly needed to stop his incessant shaking. It wasn’t exactly a surprise Arcane and Wells had a history, but no one admitted it in front of our father.

“I’m not sure yet. Tezya only sent a brief message about coming and bringing guests along.” His jaw worked as he pinched the bridge of his nose. The youngest prince often withheld important details that made my father furious, and this was just the cherry on top. And the fact that he was drinking—or had been prior to me finishing his ale—yeah, he was pissed off.

I shrugged. “So we’ll fight. We all knew this was coming eventually. Their father is a dickwad.”

“Absolutely not,” he seethed, knocking over the empty glass, which was exactly why I downed it in the first place. “I didn’t call you in here so you could join their cause.”

I bristled. “Then why am I here? Why are you telling us any of this if you expect us to do nothing?”

He sighed heavily. “Because that’s exactly what I’m begging you to do—nothing. I know you like running off. I know you don’t like it here, Savannah, but you can’t leave, not right now. Not when it’s not safe. ”

“I’ll be fine.”

“No, you won’t. You’re a—”

“Yeah, yeah. I get it. I’m a human. I’m weak. You don’t want me doing anything stupid. Can I go now?”

His thick brows furrowed as he assessed me, probably trying to gauge if I would listen to his warning. I leaned forward on the table, waiting for his reply. My fingers grazed over something thick that was definitely not a map. I leaned further into the wood, meeting his gaze so he didn’t look down to see what my hands were doing.

My father didn’t reply. He knew there was nothing he could say to get me to change my mind. If I wanted to leave, I could easily slip past the defenses without anyone knowing. I’d been doing it ever since I was sixteen, and now, seven years later, no one could stop me.

“Right. Well, this has been fun,” I said as I rose from the table.

I didn’t stop walking until I made it to my own tent. My hands were surprisingly steady as I looked down at the file I just stole from him.

It had one word on it. A name seemed more likely: MaryLynn . The woman whose picture marked the thick file was absolutely breathtaking. Her brown spiral curls curtained her oval face. She was abnormally pale, to the point where it would have looked sickly on anyone else, but it somehow added to her appeal. Her eyes kept drawing my attention. They were the lightest shade of blue, so translucent they were almost devoid of color, and despite her cool undertones, she seemed warm, and I knew she was important.

Letting out a breath, I opened the file and was not prepared for who I just discovered.

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