9. Pendulum Swing
~ YILAN ~
The servants and I were in the gardens discussing the Jubilee when I saw him.
I doubted the others were aware of the significance of the tower as we passed into its shadow.
But my skin prickled before we even reached it.
And although I continued the conversation about how deep we would need to light the paths into the grounds on the night of my birthday, my mind was elsewhere.
And as we walked farther from the palace wall and further into the gardens, the hair on the back of my neck stood up. I felt his gaze like nails dragging down my spine and the bond fluttered in my chest. Or maybe that was my heart.
I turned, but all I caught was the shape of him in the window before he jerked out of sight, as if having my eyes on him was offensive.
My heart dropped like a stone.
I had to ask Berne to repeat himself when he questioned if we would be taking drinks outside.
The staff were all so attentive, so glad that I was back safely.
And because they knew so little of the war except that my mission had been successful, they looked forward to the upcoming events, anticipating both my birthday and a royal wedding .
At one point, Keesa, the designer of all my clothing and the decorations for events, even slyly suggested that perhaps Turo and I should exchange vows at the Jubilee.
Nelson, the younger of my maids, who’d interrupted Turo and I earlier, gasped, and then clapped. “Oh, Majesty, that would be wonderful!”
“I—”
“The Queen has far too many things to think about just now to add a wedding,” Turner, my primary maid, said briskly. I could have kissed her in gratitude for the firm tone that brooked no argument from the others.
I nodded and tried to keep the relief from my face. “Not only that,” I added somberly, “But we are at war. If the people were to hear of a honeymoon at such a time, it may feel as if I did not take the risks seriously.”
“No one would accuse you of that, Ma’am,” Turner said sternly. “And if they do, you send them to me.”
I smiled at my maid and rubbed her arm. “Thank you, Turner.”
She nodded once and we all started walking again, but as I turned away to continue down the path, I didn’t miss the pinch of empathy in her eyes.
Had Turo or one of the others been indiscreet about their concerns? Or was it something else?
I wasn’t sure. But Turner, though always proper and very respectful, was the closest thing I had to a mother now. I found my chest tight with gratitude as we walked along in silence while Nelly and Keesa chattered excitedly about the upcoming celebration.
I hoped they didn’t notice my preoccupation.
I was struggling to find enthusiasm for this event, so had taken to simply agreeing with most of the suggestions the staff made. But I had promised them I’d decide details today to give them several days to get it all in place.
Still, it was almost a relief a couple of hours later when Turo showed up in the middle of a heated debate between Berne and Turner regarding whether the evening should end at the bonfire or in the parlor of the Palace.
When Turo stepped into the garden clearing and caught my eyes, for a second I felt as I used to before I left—when he was a sanctuary.
In the year prior to my mission among the Nephilim, he’d become not only a trusted advisor and my betrothed, but the one I could lean on when the duties of the crown were heavy .
He was usually unflappable, even in a crisis, and always confident in me.
That was partly why I’d been so unsettled by his agitation since we’d returned. I knew it was born of personal emotion rather than the pressures of the job.
The man was a rock. He had been my rock as well as the nation’s, though most of the people hadn’t known that until my highly anticipated bond-vow was announced.
Seeing him now, eyes shadowed by circles so dark they looked like bruises, lines in his face growing deeper, aging him, though he was barely older than Melek, and that tension in his shoulders…
I hadn’t seen that until the night we farewelled. I had left him here, leading the Advisors Council so they could all manage decisions and the security of our land in my absence.
He’d broken that order to come for me himself when I was weeks past my return, even though the messengers continued to insist that I was instructing them not to remove me.
He hadn’t believed I would make that decision myself.
Convinced that I’d been cornered, he’d come to save me from soldiers and shadow walkers who, he believed, lacked the confidence to assert themselves on a Queen who must have been coerced by their enemy.
Finding me not only alive, but in my right mind had been disturbing for him.
And now this…
“The Council is gathered, Your Majesty,” he said quietly, eyeing me from the path a few feet from where we stood.
“Thank you, Turo,” I said quietly, praying he heard the depth of my gratitude. Because it was real—and not just because he’d saved me from yet another round of debate on the number and location of warming-fires we would need in the autumn night.
I apologized for needing to leave, assuring the servants I’d be available later.
“Of course, Ma’am.”
I turned and started toward the path back to the Palace. When Turo offered me his arm, I hesitated before taking it as I would any other appropriately ranked gentleman or soldier who offered to steady me on the uneven paths.
Neither of us spoke until he’d walked me well out of earshot of the others .
“Are you well?” he asked quietly, his eyes remaining on the Palace ahead and the doorway we were aiming for on its eastern face.
“I am… unsettled,” I said honestly. “I need to get my head in the game. Four hours of flowers, lanterns, menus, and Jubilee games have addled my brains. I need to focus. These meetings are more important.”
For the foreseeable future, I would meet with the Council every day. They would fill me in on any new intelligence or advancement of troops until we learned that the Nephilim had breached the Shadows of Shade and we were marching to war, or that by God’s grace, they had turned back.
Of course, my deepest hope was that, somehow, Melek would be at the center of finding peace in this. But I wasn’t going to hold my breath.
But focusing my mind on strategy for war and death after planning the frivolities of the Jubilee was… jarring.
“Ah, the pendulum swing of royal life,” Turo said, patting my hand on his arm. “Your mother spoke of it often.”
“Usually through gritted teeth,” I chuckled.
“No!” Turo said, making his eyes comically wide. “Her Majesty was never a grumbler.”
“No, just very good at fake smiles. Much better than me.”
“I find I appreciate your transparency… at least, I used to,” Turo said quietly.
My small bubble of easy comfort popped. “Turo, I know this is difficult—”
“You don’t have to explain,” he said. “I had a good, long look in the mirror this morning after my… tense words. And I came to the conclusion that I have been adding to your stress rather than alleviating it.” He turned to look at me then, his dark eyes sad.
“That was never my intention, Yilan.” He tucked his elbow tighter against his side, pinning my hand there.
“I know,” I sighed.
We reached the palace wall, and the guards stepped back as Turo opened the door to usher me inside.
Within minutes we were in the Council Chambers, a long, narrow room with a massive rectangular stone table at one end that was long enough to seat twelve.
A wall of maps, and shelves holding history books, spellbooks, and other resources loomed at the other .
It was the one room that I always associated with my father, and the one place that still made me feel small.
I rarely entered this chamber and felt like a Queen.
Usually I became a flustered little girl, surrounded by her father’s friends.
A young princess being indulged by those loyal to their King.
Today was no different, but there was no time to indulge in angst. There was a war on our doorstep, a Nephilim in my tower, and a Kingdom without a King.
Holy shit.
As we entered, there was a feminine gasp. “Yilan!”
I turned, beaming, to find Diadre—the only female Captain of the Guard.
She was one of my trainers, and had an incredibly sharp mind.
I’d raised her rank, a controversial move when most of our few female fighters remained in the rank and file, often leaving service when they wanted to marry, or got pregnant.
Very few rose even to Sargeant. We’d never had a Captain before.
But I was proud of Diadre. I counted her among my closest friends, and was working towards appointing her officially to the Council since I usually asked her to join me for those meetings when her duties allowed.
It was a relief to me when she was there.
She rushed towards me, pristine in uniform, her black hair tied tightly back in a braid, the high-necked jacket making her appear even taller than she was. But all I saw was my friend, and to my surprise, my eyes welled.
“Diadre!” I gasped, trotting towards her as she ran, open armed, to hug me. “I thought you were still in Zaryndar!” I said, holding her shoulders when we pulled apart.
“Brother dear got worried and called me back in,” she said with a wide smile. She was a handsome woman, rather than beautiful. But I loved her easy humor—and her absolute impatience with politics.
She helped me prod the men out of their egos.
“Brother dear needed you back here—and so did your Queen,” Jhonas drawled from where he stood in front of the huge map of the Continent that was painted in mural at the end of the long room.
Jhonas was, indeed, her brother, and my first trainer and Defender as a Princess.
He’d brought Diadre in to help me spar when we were both young teens.
“Jhonas!” I said, almost as happy to see him as I was to see his sister .