Chapter Twelve
King Dorian jumped to his feet as his personal guard swarmed around him and Queen Annoura, weapons at the ready. Beside them, Prince Dorian clutched his affianced bride.
Adrial lunged against the shield surrounding him, sparks of white and red flashing around him. “Release me! You have no right to keep a Fey from his shei’tani!”
Talisa was weeping, her hands reaching out to Adrial even as her father tried to pull her away. Her husband, enclosed in his own protective bubble, had drawn his sidearm, and violence glittered in his eyes. “And you have no right to touch another man’s wife!”
“Peace.” Marissya’s voice was pitched low and tranquil.
“Don’t you dare try your witch’s tricks on me, Fey petchka,” Lord diSebourne hissed.
He called across the tomb-silent ballroom, “Is this what Celierians have become, sire? The lackeys of Fey magicians? My father told me what’s been going on here in the city with these Fey.
They murder our villagers—even our children!
—and you do nothing. They steal a man’s betrothed and you allow it.
Will you also stand by while they steal a man’s wife? ”
King Dorian’s face turned pale, then grew dark with wrath. “You are overset, Lord diSebourne,” he replied tightly. “Though your anger is understandable, you will marshal your tongue when speaking to your king.”
“Sire, my family has lived and died protecting the borders for the last few hundred years. I am your loyal subject, but you either uphold a man’s right to his wife or you do not. I will have your answer.”
Lord Sebourne called out in support of his heir, “As will I, sire.”
Lord Morvel echoed him, then another two border lords and a dozen other nobles followed suit.
Silent, watchful, Rain waited for Dorian’s response.
The Celierian king looked around the ballroom, his gaze moving slowly over the faces of the nobles who supported his rule, and over the still, pale faces of the Fey, once revered allies, now on the verge of becoming a polarizing force that could tear his kingdom apart.
His eyes met Rain’s for a long instant. When he spoke, Dorian’s voice was clear, unhesitating.
“Without a doubt, I support a man’s right to his wife, Lord diSebourne.
Above and beyond the claims of any others. ”
A noisy thrum of whispering voices followed his pronouncement.
Without the smallest change of expression, Rain bowed his head in the Celierian king’s direction. “Nor would the Fey presume to think otherwise, Your Majesty. We honor your marriage rites as we honor our own matebonding. Both are inviolable.”
“Ve ta nei keppa!” Adrial cried out. You have no right!
“Ni ve ta!” Rain snapped back. Nor do you.
?You will be silent. We will speak, but not here for the entertainment of these mortals.
You will leave your truemate in her father’s care, and you will come with me.
Now.? He razored a hard look at Lord Barrial and for the first time sent a thought straight into the border lord’s mind.
?Keep your daughter safe, even from her husband.
If he harms her, there will be death, and I will not be able to stop it. ?
Shock, indignation, and concern battled for supremacy on Lord Barrial’s face, but Rain turned away.
As long as the border lord guarded his daughter, this crisis might pass without bloodshed.
Just to be safe, however, Rain issued a silent command, and five of the warriors in the room shimmered into invisibility.
It wasn’t that he didn’t trust Cannevar, but no Fey would ever leave a truemate’s safety entirely to the keeping of mortals.
Rain gestured, and the remaining Fey silently departed—warriors, Dax, Marissya and her quintet. Adrial didn’t move. That was no surprise. But neither did the rest of Ellysetta’s quintet.
Rain glanced down at his truemate, the faintest of frowns creasing his brow. Still enveloped in the protective shield, she stood behind him, motionless. Her gaze was fixed on Adrial and Talisa diSebourne, and tears spilled unchecked from her eyes.
Ellysetta wasn’t aware of watching, nor of weeping.
She wasn’t even consciously aware of her own flesh and bone.
All she knew, all she could feel, was emotion.
Soaring joy, shattering pain, a longing so fierce and so immense that it filled her entire being and made her tremble.
And she could hear voices, their voices, somehow strangely a part of her.
?I waited for you, but you never came.?
?I am here now.?
?It’s too late. I’ve already pledged my life to another.?
?Leave him. Come with me. You are my shei’tani. Your place is with me.?
?I am his wife. My place is with him.?
?I have waited eleven centuries for you. Does that count for nothing??
Devastating sadness swamped Ellie’s senses. ?I dreamed of you. With those others. With those women.?
Oh, gods. An agony of self-recrimination, self-loathing, stole her breath. She was gasping. She was dying.
“Ellysetta!” Firm hands grasped her shoulders and gave her a quick, hard shake.
She came back to herself in a whooshing rush. Dazed, she stared up into Rain’s face. His eyes blazed with fear.
“It’s all right.” She touched his hand and drew a deep breath, trying to still her racing heart. “I’m all right. But Adrial . . .”
Adrial stood trembling, and his face had turned a worrisome shade of gray. With an oath, his brother Rowan stepped forward and slammed one rock-hard fist into Adrial’s jaw. The younger Fey crumpled, unconscious, into his brother’s arms.
Talisa gave a small cry, but she choked it back quickly.
With a presence of mind Ellysetta had yet to fully master, Talisa managed to collect herself and remain at her father’s side as Rowan carried Adrial from the room.
She stood as proud and aloof as the haughtiest Celierian noblewoman, even though Ellie knew her heart was breaking.
It was shattering, in fact, splintering into a thousand tiny shards that shredded what precious happiness she had found in her marriage and her life.
Ellysetta shook her head, pulling back from the drowning lure of the young woman’s emotions. Why could she now feel someone else’s pain so clearly? First Adrial’s, now Talisa’s. She glanced up at Rain as he led her from the room. What was happening to her?
They gathered in Rain’s chambers. Marissya’s quintet wove the privacy wards around the room while Rowan laid his brother on one of the empty couches.
Marissya sat beside Adrial and threw back her veils.
Her face radiated concern as she laid her hands on him.
Rain watched broodingly. After a moment, she stood.
“Physically, he is well. I have done what I can to ease his emotions when he wakes. But you know he won’t leave Celieria now.” She looked at Rain. “No matter what you, Dorian, or even Talisa herself says, he won’t leave her.”
“I know.” No warrior would leave his truemate once he found her. “I’ve never known a married woman to recognize a shei’tanitsa bond.”
“If this husband truly held any part of Talisa’s heart or soul, she would not have. Not that that will matter to the Celierians. Lord diSebourne will not stand by while a Fey takes his wife. And his father will support him. Lord Barrial may as well.”
“I know that too.”
“It could mean the end of the Fey-Celierian alliance.”
“Shall I kill Adrial now, then, and save us the trouble?” Rain said. Ellysetta gasped, and Rain bit back his temper. “The alliance is already lost. There’s no way Dorian will declare primus now, and we don’t have enough votes to keep the Eld out of Celieria.”
“Who cares about politics?” Dax interjected.
“Doesn’t anyone besides me realize that for the first time in a thousand years we have not only one but two shei’tanitsa bonds recognized within ten days of each other?
To Celierian women? Doesn’t that strike anyone else as odd?
” He glanced around the room at the other Fey.
“No warrior has ever found a truemate outside the women of the Fey, yet a week ago, Rain, you found Ellysetta, and now Adrial has found Talisa. It defies all logic.”
“At least there is some manner of explanation for Talisa,” Rain said, remembering Cann’s sorreisu kiyr. “There’s Elvish blood in the Barrial line, and apparently Fey blood, too.” He looked at Marissya. “Lord Barrial wears your cousin Dural’s crystal.”
She sank onto the couch where Adrial lay. “Dural?”
“I discovered it the night of Teleos’s dinner. I wasn’t certain they shared kinship, but now it seems impossible that they do not.”
“But Barrial wasn’t truemated to his wife,” Dax protested. “The bond was purely mortal—clearly mortal or he would have died when his wife expired in childbirth. And if Lord Barrial is Fey, as you say, how could he sire a daughter outside the bonds of shei’tanitsa?”
Female Fey were only born to truemated couples, and even then such a blessing was so rare, a girl child’s birth was cause for great celebration.
“I don’t understand it any more than you do, Dax.
” Rain lifted his hands. “Talisa and Ellysetta are both from the north. Perhaps there is something there we have too long discounted. Perhaps something about the remnant magics from the Mage Wars, when combined with other magical blood, can make the impossible possible.”