Chapter 2
Chapter
Ididn’t want to be here.
No matter how much I tried to pretend I was ready.
How often I told myself I was doing this for my father, for our Family.
My heart kept shouting one thing: get the fuck out of here.
I stood on the ship’s prow and let the wind tear at my hair.
I fixed my eyes on the horizon where the White City rose up, whiter than salt, its domes reflecting sunlight.
The pride of the Ten Families. The center of the Dominium.
A city that would swallow me whole the moment I showed weakness.
The last time I’d seen it I was a child, holding my father’s hand.
Now I had to fend for myself. I was to represent our Family, our failing trade, our desperate hopes.
I should have been on a ship going the other way.
Instead, father sent me here like his own errand girl.
“See to the future of Family Veymaris,” he told me.
“Our ships sit idle in port, the coffers are running dry. We need trading partners, contacts, connections. Secure us new contracts with the help of Roderick. And if you happen upon a suitor, preferably a wealthy one who likes the look of you, even better.”
Fantastic. Father had always possessed a sick sense of humor.
Roderick, our steward, stood beside me. He’d served our family as long as I could remember.
He was like an uncle to me. Broad-shouldered, with a soft belly, a generous mustache, and an old-fashioned sense of humor.
I was glad he’d come. We’d traveled in a small group, we couldn’t afford to keep many people in the White City.
Roderick brought his two sons, Kael and Brenn, knights in their mid-twenties, assigned as my personal guard.
Though everyone knew that, if it came to it, I’d probably end up saving them.
Stepping off the ship, the port’s clamor washed over me like a familiar tide.
I was used to it in Thalrock, where the salt breeze never left your skin and the crash of waves had been my childhood lullaby.
I learned to swim before I could walk. The wind carried our laughter and the sailors’ curses from distant voyages.
The islands were wild and fickle, one day the water was calm as a mirror, the next raging like a storm at the ocean’s core.
Life there was simpler, rawer and truer than in this polished metropolis.
“Lady Nerissa, by the gods… is everything made of marble?” Mirabel whispered, craning her neck at the city.
“Marble, palladium, and vanity,” I answered dryly, striding down the wet gangplank. “White City always liked to shine brighter than it deserves.”
Mirabel’s cheeks flushed with excitement, she couldn’t tear her gaze from the alabaster domes, he soaring towers laced with golden filigree, the bustling docks where dozens of sails danced in the light of the setting sun.
“It looks like a dream…” she breathed.
I snorted. “More like a nightmare if you have to live here longer than a day. Behind all that white and gold, hides the stench of intrigue and rot. The Families can drone for hours about alliances and ancient bloodlines, but in truth it’s only about who sells whom for the highest price.”
Her eyes flicked to me, a touch frightened, but she kept stealing glances at the city, as if it might vanish the moment she looked away.
“Shall I find a carriage, my Lady?” Roderick asked.
“Not tonight. I’m exhausted from the voyage, and I have no energy to start the political dance yet.” I sighed. “Let’s find an inn for the night. At first light, we’ll head to the palace.”
As we searched for a tavern, we passed stalls brimming with Elementars.
Merchants haggled loudly, voices rising in heated negotiations.
The greatest crowd gathered before a stall where the seller hurled fire into the air, the flames twisting like living things above his head.
Heat rolled outward in heavy breaths, and the smell of scorched oil clung to the square.
Coins rang in purses. Children stared open-mouthed.
Even the guards lingered longer than duty allowed.
“For the finest price,” the merchant cried. “Shipment straight from Emberhold, capital of fire and flame. Twenty coins for one Elementar with cornelian. Thirty-five for two.”
Kael and Brenn drifted toward the stall at once, as if pulled by a current. Though they were born of the islands, fire had always sung to them. I saw it in the way their shoulders squared, in the hunger that lit their eyes.
Roderick and I approached more slowly. In the White City, nothing came without a price.
“Show me what they can really do,” I said.
The merchant’s grin widened. “Ahh, a wary young Lady. A wise habit.” He slid rings onto his fingers, palladium bands heavy with stones that glowed from within. With a practiced motion, he thrust his hands upward.
Flame erupted, a roaring column that surged at least twenty feet into the air before breaking apart in a shower of sparks.
I schooled my face, though it took effort. The stone was good. The craft was sound. And the price, by city standards, was almost kind.
Still, we did not have that kind of coin to spare.
I hesitated for a moment before reaching into my pouch. I drew out two tanzanites, cool and dark as deep water. They were not Elementars yet. They were not set in palladium. But the stones themselves were pure.
“What would you say to barter?” I asked.
“Barter?” He scoffed. “Lady, this is a city of coins.”
I held the tanzanites up for him to see. When his hand darted forward, greedy and quick, I closed my fingers and pulled them back.
“Clean cut,” I said calmly. “Straight from Thalrock. You know well enough we do not trade in refuse.”
He paused, weighing me with shrewd eyes. The noise of the crowd pressed in around us, impatient, curious.
“We both know how little tanzanite has been mined recently. So, you know how valuable they are.” I added.
At last he chuckled low.
“For those eyes alone,” he said, reluctant, “I will make the trade.”
I allowed myself a gentle smile, horse shit, but a bargain was struck.
I slipped a ring onto Kael’s hand, then another onto Brenn’s. They stared at me as though I had placed crowns upon their heads.
“You cannot walk this city unarmed,” I said. “A weak creature invites attack.”
They glanced at one another, and the same spark of joy flared in their eyes.
But the truth was, that display of fire didn’t mean much.
True magic was no longer the force that toppled kingdoms. In scattered places of Dominium you could still find the ashes of old eras.
Ruins of realms mapped differently, where people with godlike powers had once ruled.
Now men settled for echoes of the ancient elements. Water. Fire. Earth. Air.
To command the force, Elementar was always needed. Palladium jewelry with the right stone. The stronger the stone, the higher the price. Anyone who wished to wield an element had to use a charm.
Well, almost everyone.
The harbor tavern was packed to the rafters. Smoke from candles and pipes curled beneath the beamed ceiling, sailors’ songs mingled with the clunk of pints. The moment we crossed the threshold, a recognizable scent struck my nose. This place smelled more like home than I expected.
We claimed a corner table. Roderick ordered ale for the group, and I settled in comfortably.
I wore fitted trousers and my favorite leather coat, deep navy like the sea, high-collared and tailored to accentuate my figure.
Palladium buttons shaped like anchors gleamed with every shift.
I knew I looked too fine for the room. I also knew someone would notice sooner or later.
For a little while, I could pretend it wasn’t my problem. The four of us played cards. Kael lost every hand, and I laughed until tears came down my face. Brenn and Roderick rolled their eyes. I forgot the storm clouds gathering over my head.
“Hey, doll,” a slurred voice called toward me. A sailor, face flushed from drink, eyes unfocused. “Your laugh is so pretty, why not smile for us? We play cards too, lass. Though with you, the stakes would be your clothes.”
“Not interested,” I said coolly, not glancing up from my hand.
“What’s this! Some noble bitch with her lazy dogs, thinks she’s better than us? A few thrusts between those legs and you’d drop the attitude.”
In that instant, Roderick and the brothers rested hands on the hilts of Veymaris’ daggers. I turned slowly, meeting the sailor’s gaze, ready for what was to come.
A tall figure seized the drunk by the shoulder and yanked him back. The stranger had dark hair, a wide shadowed jaw and a black leather tunic stretched over a muscled frame. An eerie calm settled on his face as he twisted the man’s arm and murmured into his ear.
“First, the Lady clearly doesn’t want your drunken company.
Second, can’t you see they’re not like you, you filthy rat?
They’re here for the Gathering. If you don’t want half the White Guard in here, I suggest you plant your ass on a stool.
And third…” His voice dropped to a growl.
“…if you so much as glance at the girl again, I’ll pin your face to the nearest candlestick. ”
Silence blanketed the tavern, murmurs rippled outward.
The drunk sailor looked as if he might faint.
He swayed, muttered, and stumbled back to his bench, almost toppling on the way.
Those nearby shot furtive glances at the stranger.
Though the situation was under my control, it seemed only courteous to express my thanks.
I rose to approach him. He stood a head taller than me, though I matched most men in height. Fine lines framed his green eyes, he was perhaps a few years older.
“Thank you for the help,” I said, meeting his stare, “but I believe we could have managed one drunk sailor.”
“Him, yes. But the tavern’s full of drunks, and you don’t need a brawl. You shouldn’t be here at all. This isn’t a place for an island heiress.”
The fact that he recognized me startled me. Then again, with my clothes, my bearing, and the timing of the Gathering, I wasn’t exactly a puzzle to solve. Before I could retort, he leaned closer, his breath hot against my ear, his words pitched low enough for me alone.
“Be careful. Little siren of Veymaris.” His gaze swept over me, slow and deliberate, and then he turned and walked out of the tavern.
A shiver chased down my spine, my skin flushing red where his voice had touched it. By the time I found the words to answer, he was already gone.
Roderick gave me a look, and we both agreed. It was time to slip out quietly and avoid any more trouble.