Chapter Twenty One
Vonetta
We’re met at the mouth of the cave by a carriage and many, many people: two guards, two drivers, and two healers.
Wren instructs them to check me over, and they prod at my shrinking wound and make compresses while Chiron and Wren recount my accident in great detail to them.
My husbands are practically mother hens today, and I do not know what to make of this.
I sit still as they clean and bandage my scrapes and the larger wound at my temple. First, they wipe alcohol over the wounds that sting considerably, and I grimace at my two worrying men as they fuss about this.
The healer asks me questions to ascertain if I am coherent, which I find myself to be quite indignant about. Yet still, I answer patiently. As the Queen to be, my health and well-being are of great importance to Elemyr. I try to be patient with them, and they finish their work.
Wren and Chiron procure us fresh clothes sent from the capital and provisions.
We eat near the cave, and it bolsters me considerably.
Throughout our time on the mountain, salted meat and the little bit of water Chiron carried with us felt inadequate and unnecessary.
We were a bit busy fighting for our lives to make it up there.
“Chiron, will there be much fanfare as we enter the city? I don’t think I’m entirely ready for that,” Wren says to him, leaning back against the wall of the mountain at his back. Chiron’s mouth is near overflowing with bread, his hunger clearly getting the better of him.
“No, actually. We’ll enter the city late today and through the back gates at that. We’ll have time to prepare and rest. The first introductions will be made with my parents,” He says around his meal.
His parents. I’m going to meet my husband’s parents.
Just another one of those things I had never truly considered, until now. Vestera may have been like a mother to me, but a father? I have no concept of this.
“What are they like, your mother and father? Tell us what we should say, what we should do when we meet them?” I ask him, folding my hands in my lap and clasping them tightly.
Chiron’s eyes soften to me, amusement fading into tenderness.
“They will love you, as I love you,” He says to me, leaning in and placing a sweet kiss on my bandaged head before continuing.
“My parents are great, truly. My father is a wise man, a just King. He taught me everything I know. My mother is beautiful, regal, but warm. She will truly love you both very much. They’ve spoken of my Trinity to me since before I can remember; they are incredibly excited to have you both. ”
We spend an hour or more sitting beside the great peaks, feasting and chatting with one another.
The air between us is both light and heavy with everything we have shared between us these last weeks.
It is hard to be nervous about what is to come when I know in my heart sits the bond we forged together, infallible now against any trial, because we have already completed the ones that matter.
Wren and Chiron sit to be checked for any wounds, of which neither has any. We pack up our small possessions and take our places in the carriage. I open the curtains that sway behind my bench and watch the mountains recede behind us, the bright beacon flaring against the morning sky.
“I imagine we will be taken to our rooms right away; our attendants have been instructed to set them up. We’ll have a chance to clean up and rest. Tomorrow, I’ll give you both a tour of my—our home before we do formal introductions.”
The way Chiron says that last part makes my cheeks heat. Our rooms, our home.
The large wheels of our carriage roll loudly down the worn path from the great hills to Ilyora. The sky is bright blue, and the weather grows warmer the farther away from the peaks of Caelestis we go.
We stop to water the steeds that pull us and stretch our legs at the river before crossing over into the outskirts of the city.
Chiron narrates our journey along the way.
I feel as if we are on a tour of his lands for the first time since coming to Elemyr.
For the bulk of our journey, I was a passive traveler from one place to the next– homesick and unsure of my place in this world.
Somewhere along the way, through our trials to secure its bounties, I grew to know it keenly.
As I watch out the window of our carriage, I think of all the places we have been since I set foot onto the small barge to leave Naedra’s Isle.
When we do finally reach our destination, night has fallen over the city like a blanket, the warm glow of lamps visible in windows on small and large homes alike.
They do not know their prince has returned to them; they do not know the Trinity has arrived.
We are brought to the massive stables to the west of the great castle.
Even in the darkness, the great structure towers above us, bidding us to come.
The horses are detached from the carriage and taken into their stalls.
Chiron greets the stablehand warmly with a hug and introduces Wren and me to him.
“Byron, this is my wife, Lady Vonetta, and Wren, my husband. Netta, Wren, this is Byron, master of the stables of Ilyora.” His grin is wide, full of pride to introduce us this way.
Though I feel disheveled from our trials and travels this day, Chiron’s warmth continues to move in me as we greet the stableman.
“Hello, Byron. It is good to meet you. Your horses have traveled long to meet us, thank you.” I dip my head to him, offering my gratitude to the burly man.
He appears to be no older than I, but is taller and wider than even Chiron is.
He has flaxen hair and dark grey eyes, by this light.
His wide nose sits prominently on his face, a little crooked by my sight.
His smile is jovial, and his greeting feels genuine.
“Your graces, I am honored to serve you both. My Prince, we are glad to see you home once more.” He bows to us all, deeply and with the reverence one would offer a great royal party. I am embarrassed to remember that this is exactly what we are.
Wren and I are led into the stable where we are greeted by the whinnies and sighs of all the horses of the royal house.
Every color of beast is represented here, and I marvel at all of the spectacular mounts therein.
Chiron takes us to the back of the long barn, where a tall, bone-white mare is housed.
“Perhaps my mother would have liked to share her with you first, but we are so late and already here. This is Rhiann, and she is for you, Netta.” As he lifts the hatch on the gate to her stall, her full glory is unveiled to us.
She is not purely white, as I first believed.
While her mane is pure as fallen snow, the gradient of white flows to cool, dark grays running the distance of her long legs.
Her ears, too, are tipped darkly. Smokey black eyes look back at us as Chiron leads her out from her stall.
She is, quite simply, the most breathtaking creature I have ever seen.
And she is mine.
I am overcome, in truth. I tentatively reach out my hand to her long face, allowing her a moment to sniff at me before placing it on the velvety soft skin there. Her eyes are large, and her breath is warm and sweet on my face as I move closer to her.
“Blessings, Rhiann. You are a stunning creature, are you not?” I whisper to her. Her grunts and snorts are foreign to me, but I take it as a good sign that she allows my fawning.
Chiron is behind me now, his warm breath close to my ear.
“I believe she likes you, wife. I wrote to my mother when we were in Nerine. I asked her to pick a steed worthy of a Queen. Did she choose well for you?” His warmth sends shivers up my spine.
When I first took to riding on the first leg of our journey, I had no idea that one day I would have a mount of my own to ride.
Now that the prospect is in front of me, I feel such immense joy about it.
“She chose perfectly. I think I love her already,” I say to him, leaning slightly into his warmth before closing the distance to place a soft kiss on Rhiann’s snout.
Her chuffed response is moist on my skin, and I cannot help but laugh.
She will be a great friend indeed. “Thank you, Chiron. I look forward to spending time with her.” I whisper, turning my body to face him.
Wren stands near, a bright and beautiful smile on his face. It’s a rare one, full of shining teeth that light up his ocean eyes. They dance, really. This, too, is a gift.
“I’ve not forgotten you, Wren. But your gift is inside,” He says, mischief laced in his tone. Wren’s eyebrows raise, creating deep lines in his forehead. Gifts and gestures of grandeur are as foreign to him as they are to me.
“I see, won’t you take us there then, Prince?” He questions.
We are brought to a small door on this side of the palace wall. Two heavily armed guards stand watch here, steel armor shining against the light of the silver moon. They have long spears in hand, at the ready. Chiron steps forward.
“Gentleman, the Trinity have come home.”
The guards step aside in unison, smacking their weapons into the ground in two heavy beats.
This must be some sort of call, because the door opens with a heavy click, and we are bid to enter.
Chiron turns to Wren and me, trepidation filling my chest for the first time since arriving. His grin is wide and excited.
“Let me show you our home.”