Chapter Two
Two months ago
Kestrel took her seat between her father, Lord Goshawk, and her mage tutor, Beryl.
Everything she’d prepared for her entire life, all of the daydreams she’d had since she was a child were coming true.
Here she was, about to experience her first royal banquet.
Not only that, but she’d finally met her betrothed, Gerard Calla, heir to the throne of Wurrakia.
The introduction yesterday had been brief, but surpassed her most hopeful dreams. Gerard was even more handsome than his portrait, a golden prince with blue eyes that danced with charm.
Her belly had fluttered and her fingers still tingled where he’d kissed them.
She wished she was able to sit with him at last night’s feast, but alas, their new courtship was delayed by the reason for the banquet and tomorrow’s tourney.
The Queen of Aisthanesthai had arrived on a diplomatic visit.
Xochitl Leonine, Lioness of Light, and daughter of the revered luminite princess, Kerainne Leonine, caused a minor scandal immediately when, instead of arriving in the carriage Lord Aylmer had sent with a noble escort as befitting her rank, she’d opted to let out her wings and fly over the castle walls, landing before Lord Aylmer and Lady Moira.
Sir Mormont, captain of the noble guard, was with the carriage along with most of the guard.
However, Aylmer’s enforcer known as the Wolf, withdrew his sword so fast the steel sang.
To everyone’s relief, Lord Aylmer gestured for the warrior to stand down.
Kestrel shivered at the frightening sight of the man, with his long wild black hair only somewhat obscuring the mass of scars that covered his ruthless face.
Quickly, she averted her gaze before he saw her staring, and turned her attention back to the royal guest.
Kestrel was fairly certain the Queen had done so to demonstrate that all of Wurrakia’s walls and battlement guards couldn’t keep her out if she felt like visiting for unfriendly purposes.
Last year, Lord Aylmer and the other noble houses had made the grave mistake of supporting the Winter Prince, Stefan, who was Zareth Atmoken’s half brother, and the former king’s younger son to inherit the crown of Aisthanesthai.
After all, the Prophecy stated that after the Lioness of Light brought back the sun, she would crown one of the two brothers.
In Wurrakia’s eyes, Stefan had all the looks and trappings of the perfect king.
Even now, Kestrel’s face burned in shame at how wrong they’d all been.
Including herself. Forcing the memory away was easy with this first up-close sight of her Queen.
Kestrel stood beside Gerard, only a few paces from where Queen Xochitl had landed, giving her a good view of the visiting monarch.
She wasn’t at all dressed like a royal. She wore black suede trousers, calf-high boots, and a purple velvet sleeveless top in the style of Earthfolk that bared her back and made room for her black, silver-gilt wings.
Her black and purple hair was loose and wild beneath her silver crown, the only token of her high rank.
Her escort, two male mages, one a blue robed mage, and the other, a green-robe exited the carriage and came to stand by their monarch.
The blue robe held a white cat with a blue-gray mask, ears, tail, and paws.
Sure enough, Xochitl openly chided Lord Aylmer for backing Stefan instead of Zareth, the Lord of Storm and Shadow and her fated mate. But then she graciously announced her forgiveness, and for the first time in eighteen moons, the people of Wurrakia breathed a sigh of relief.
Kestrel’s relief and fascination at this strange queen was mingled with selfish disappointment, for Gerard abandoned her side to escort the blue-robed mage, who was revealed to be his youngest brother, Artavian Calla, along with the green-robed mage, to their rooms. It was hard to believe Artavian was related to Gerard and his other brother, Mathurin.
While the two eldest brothers were muscular and had the short-cropped hair of most Wurrak warriors, Artavian was an oddity.
Not only was he a rare male Wurrak healer of the blue robes, he was also thin and wiry with long, pretty copper-brown hair.
Kestrel had never seen a male Wurrak with long hair.
To her surprise, she found him to be quite… pretty.
Though nowhere near as handsome as Gerard , she assured herself to fight of a twinge of guilt at thinking of another man than her betrothed.
With the royal family occupied with these higher-ranking guests, Father ordered Kestrel to return to her room and ready herself for the banquet that would be held in Queen Xochitl’s honor.
Hannah, the lady’s maid appointed to her by Lady Moira, took extra care with Kestrel’s hair, weaving her a crown of auburn braids that blazed like fire in the lantern lights.
Father had given her some of her mother’s jewelry, with the rest to be given as a wedding present.
Tonight, she wore emerald teardrop earrings with a matching pendant.
A forest green satin gown completed the picture, though Kestrel wished she could wear the watered silk that matched the emeralds perfectly.
Unfortunately, she couldn’t wear silks or velvets until she was wed.
Still, as she did a turn in front of the full-length mirror, Kestrel thought she looked suitable enough to have her engagement officially announced, which could happen at tonight’s banquet!
She closed her eyes and imagined receiving the Queen’s blessing in front of Lord Aylmer’s court and all the other ladies seething in envy while Sir Gerard looked on in pride at his bride to be.
And maybe one of Wurrakia’s famous minstrels would write a song about her. Or, maybe the Queen would!
Kestrel paused, remembering the song Queen Xochitl had sung the day she’d brought back the sun, the sheer rage in her achingly beautiful voice, and that anger amplified by the strange Earth realm instruments she and her band played.
Perhaps Her Highness wasn’t the ideal choice to sing of a romantic betrothal.
Alas, the banquet didn’t go as Kestrel had hoped. To her utter disappointment, she’d been seated across from Sir Gerard rather than beside him as she’d hoped. Even worse, her betrothed completely ignored her for the duration of the meal.
Yet she couldn’t blame him. Queen Xochitl—now dressed appropriately in a gown of royal purple—and Lord Aylmer spent the duration of the meal arguing the terms of Wurrakia’s alliance with the crown in the coming war against Mephistopheles, something of far more importance than their impending marriage.
The discussion grew heated at times, firstly at the Queen’s audacious request that the Wurrak knights fight alongside Xochitl’s army of vampires.
Kestrel couldn’t suppress a shudder at the mention of those blood-drinking monsters.
And knowing that Xochitl was the daughter of Mephistopheles, the creator of vampires and violator of worlds—if Kestrel hadn’t heard the goodness and magic in her voice and witnessed her freeing captive slaves and ending four years of darkness by bringing back the sun, she’d have treasonous doubts about the new monarch’s worthiness to rule this world.
She’d heard enough whispers about the Queen in her own household and reprimanded enough servants to be caught having the same traitorous suspicions.
But then the Queen and one of her companions caused another stir by jolting up to their feet and seeming to threaten Lord Aylmer.
Eventually Kestrel gathered that they were defending Artavian, of whom it was well known that Aylmer was greatly disappointed.
She made a mental note to ask Beryl what “homophobia” meant before the Lord of Wurrakia’s hostility vanished at the mention of a battle on Earth.
All of the men at the long table perked up in interest. The one subject that nearly all Wurraks were in agreement with was a love for battles.
Many retired warriors became scholars on wars of the past. And because Earth had a much bloodier history, several specialized in that world’s historic battles.
Yet the conversation between Queen Xochitl, her attendants, and Lord Aylmer incited shock on two fronts.
Firstly, the battle they spoke of was against vampires.
Kestrel and everyone else she knew had been under the impression that all vampires were under the Queen’s command.
If, by some miracle, Lord Aylmer agreed to have his knights fight alongside Xochitl’s army of blood drinkers, the existence of enemy vampires would complicate matters even further.
Secondly came the knowledge that Lord Aylmer’s mage son, Artavian, had managed to heal eleven people during that battle. Lady Calla, Artavian’s mother and high healer, had only managed five in such a quick timeframe. Therefore, Artavian may be the most powerful healer mage in all of Wurrakia.
Kestrel was both proud of him and hopeful that meant his father would treat him better. However, part of her couldn’t help but feel a measure of petty resentment that her nation’s most powerful healer was a man.
The final bit of shocking news was that the General, who was foretold to command the Queen’s armies in the war against Mephistopheles, was not only not a Wurrak, as they’d all expected, but also a woman from the Earth realm who was married to a Lord Vampire.
As expected, Lord Aylmer grumbled about that fact until it was pointed out that a woman had saved the world and would be saving it again. Then, at last, the talk shifted to more pleasant things, like tomorrow’s tourney.
For the first time since the meal started, Gerard looked at Kestrel and spoke to her. “Will you give me your favor tomorrow?”
All was forgiven in the face of his charming smile and romantic request. “Of course, good sir.”