Land of Strength and Sorrow (Secrets of Orendor Book 1), Page 2

  Those eyes. That skin. She would never forget them and had never seen anything like them before. But, they didn’t threaten her. No, when she’d passed by, an icy chill had settled over her, wrapped around her and held her in its clutches. She couldn’t catch her breath, like the cold had frozen her lungs. It was a fear unlike anything she’d ever felt before, a fear that had forced her to run. She hadn’t stopped until she was safe inside her room. But, the fear didn’t stop her from staring out the window in hopes of a second look behind the protection of thick, stone walls.

  But, she had things to do, so she pulled herself away from the window and went about her day. First, she sat down with Giselda, her tutor, in the library.

  Giselda paced around her. “Jovi, focus on the words in front of you and read them.”

  Jovi slumped back in her chair and sighed. “I am not in the mood to read today.” And she wasn’t. She wanted to enjoy this day, more than any other. She didn’t want to sit through her lessons and read dull books that bored her. Not today.

  Giselda crossed her arms over her chest and gave her a pointed stare. “Your birthday is just another day. You were born today, eighteen years ago. That is all it signifies. You do not need to act as if it is something more than it is.”

  Jovi looked at the ground. Couldn’t she, for one day, just escape this mundane life? Couldn’t she read a book about an adventure, about a man who had to fight dragons and win the heart of the princess instead of these books about plants and the history of Orendor? She didn’t care about any of it.

  She cared about life and how she would live her own, and she didn’t want to do it stuck behind some stone walls.

  Plus, her birthday did mean something to her, even if it didn’t matter to any of the other people in this castle. But, instead of saying anything, or arguing with her tutor, she did the reading required of her and answered all of Giselda’s questions. Then, she got up and left the room.

  Jovi wandered the halls of the castle and took in the paintings of all her ancestors. People she’d never met, never talked to. The images haunted her, and often she thought she could see figures in the distance as they walked through the castle. Then she’d look again, and they were gone. Just like that.

  She had an imagination that liked to run away from her…or with her.

  Before she knew it, she’d drifted to the kitchens. She didn’t stop at the door but instead walked inside and ran her fingers along the long counter in the center of the room. She took in the savory smell of meat, which made her mouth water. She was famished, couldn’t remember eating anything since early this morning before she left.

  She couldn’t stop herself as her hand floated to the top of a bowl, filled to the brim with rolls. A slap to her skin and she yanked it back, dropping her arm to her side. She looked up into wide hazel eyes. “Princess. You know you aren’t supposed to be in here.”

  Jovi smiled. “What my parents don’t know won’t hurt them. It isn’t as if they’ll find me here, and you needn’t tell them you saw me either.” Extending her hand again, she kept her eyes on the cook’s.

  The cook smacked her again.

  Jovi snatched her hand away. “Stop that. I’m hungry.”

  “And you will eat when it’s time for dinner. Not until then. Now scoot out of here.”

  Jovi scowled as she glided out of the kitchen and through the hallways of the castle again. Soon, she found herself back in her room. She sat on her bed but couldn’t stay there. Instead, she went to the window again, watching, trying to get a glimpse of the people she'd seen earlier. But, the only people on the streets were the shopkeepers and merchants and people from the village who bought fruits and vegetables, cloth, and jewelry. Meats hung from the side of wooden carts. The shops were busy, busier than usual. Maybe it had to do with the strangers visiting, or maybe Jovi just needed to get out of her own head.

  A knock sounded on her door, and she jumped out of her skin.

  She took a deep breath and opened it. A man she’d never seen stood on the other side. Heat spread over her face as she took in his wide shoulders and shiny gray eyes.

  Oh, my. He’s handsome. Jovi couldn’t stop the thought from drifting through her mind.

  His gaze burned through her and she quickly averted her eyes, letting them fall to the ground.

  What am I doing? How will I rule one day if I can’t even meet the eyes of a man I think good looking? Jovi forced herself to stop thinking like that. She didn’t need so much self-doubt running through her.

  Her chin raised, and her wide eyes took him in, all of him. Starting at his feet, her eyes moved up his long legs, and flat stomach. His muscular chest. Standing straighter, she found the black patch covering his chin. It connected just above his lip, and she had to arch her neck back to meet his eyes.

  He’s so tall. I’ve never seen anyone reach that kind of height, she pondered.

  Thick black hair sheathed his head, spiked to a peak. Swallowing, she somehow found her voice. “Yes? Who are you, and what do you want?”

  He smirked, making his gray eyes light up even more. “The name’s Cappa. I’m your new guard.”

  Jovi raised her eyebrows. “Then where is your armor?”

  He leaned back against the opposite wall in the hallway, and crossed his arms over his chest. “I don’t wear the stuff. Makes you sweat something awful.”

  Her cheeks heated even more as she thought about his chest glistening with moisture. “Not such a wise decision when it comes to battle, I presume.”

  He shrugged. “Actually, I’ve found I have a better time since I can move a lot quicker than the other guys. Their tin suits slow them down. I take advantage of that.”

  Great. Like this is a conversation I want to have right now, Jovi thought, but she met his eyes and said, “Good for you, then. Now, what brought you to knock on the door of my private suite?”

  “I’ve been sent to bring you down to the throne room. The King requests your presence. Now.”

  Hmm. I wonder what this is about, Jovi thought as she eyeballed her pink silk dress, running her hands over the soft material to rid it of any wrinkles. When she’d finished, she nodded. “I am ready. Let’s go.”

  Cappa made a sweeping gesture with his arm. “After you, Princess.” As she shifted past him, he stopped her with a hand to her wrist. His eyes scanned the bit of bare skin on her chest.

  She pulled back and yanked her wrist from his grip. She had a feeling if he really wanted to hold on to her, she wouldn’t have been able to escape so easily. “Excuse me, but what do you think you are doing?”

  His cheeks took on a pink hue, the only hint of embarrassment he let show. “Sorry. That necklace. It’s like nothing I’ve ever laid my eyes on, and I’ve seen my share of necklaces.”

  The necklace. She brushed her fingers over it. How had she forgotten she’d had it on? Especially since the weight of it could sink her in shallow water. Meeting his eyes, she brought her chin to her shoulder. “Thank you. I got it in town today.”

  “It is the perfect color for your complexion. Brings out your violet eyes, Princess.”

  The way he said “Princess” this time sent goose bumps dancing from the tip of her shoulders down to her fingertips. Not the cold shivers from the strange visitors in town. No, these were full of heat and scared her more than she’d like to admit.

  She stared at her feet and followed the bright blue carpet all the way down the stairs. Then she went right, down another long corridor with maroon carpet and pictures of past kings lining the wall. The last door on the left, made of bronze and painted gold, led her to the grand throne room. Her father sat in the middle chair, with its back stretched halfway up the wall in intricate gold patterns fit for a king.

  Mother sat on the right, so Jovi took the small seat on the left. Her chair had no designs, plain except for the gold plush pillow under her.

  After she had settled in her seat, she took a moment and admired the spacious room. Stained-glass windows l
ittered the vaulted ceiling, the small ones wrapping around the largest piece in the shape of an angel. On bright days, the sun shone through the full-sized angel, but not today. Dark and dreary cast no light and did nothing to stave off the feeling that sank in the pit of her stomach.

  Benches lined the outside of the room, tiered into rows like a stadium rising almost to the roof. The Royals had always used the room for ceremonies, but nobody sat in any of the seats today. Only her father, mother and herself. The guards stood around them, ready to protect the rulers against the outside world they so often let inside this room.

  Still, with no one in the room, Jovi couldn’t understand why her father had summoned her.

  She risked a quick glance at her father and folded her hands in her lap. “What did you need me for, Father?”

  He frowned at her. “We have some visitors. They would like an audience with the royal family. Your mother has convinced me to see them, although I would like nothing more than to kill them on sight.” King Ryan’s jaw quivered, and his hand curled into a fist as he laid his arm on the chair.

  Jovi had never seen her father like this. “What did these people do, Father? Who are they?” She knew who they must be but not really who they were. He had to be referring to the strangers she’d laid eyes upon in town not long ago.

  “They are the Frost Mages.”

  That is all he needed to say. The details had never been given to her, not fully, but part of the story she knew like the back of her hand. The Frost Mages had killed her brother, her parent’s first-born, and for that, they would never be forgiven by any of them. Including her.

  She clenched her teeth together and faced forward, a cold look plastered on her face as she waited for them to enter.

  It didn’t take long. As they appeared, Jovi imagined herself in the market again, the first place she’d seen the chilly strangers. A cold shiver rippled down her spine as a large group entered, one of them standing in front, apart from the many others. She couldn’t count them all, but she figured at least twenty bodies shuffled into the large room, maybe more.

  Jovi wrapped her fingers around the arm of the chair and squeezed until her knuckles were white. She scooted until her back hit the chair and sat straighter as she stuck her nose in the air. Her eyes narrowed, and she wiped all hints of emotion from her face, a look she’d practiced often enough to master.

  The leader stopped in front of them and bowed. “King Ryan. It has been too long.”

  “Rise, Mage, and be spoken to.” King Ryan’s voice boomed through the empty room.

  The Frost Mage rose and drew his hood down. As soon as he did, the King spoke. “Now tell me, Malador, King of the Frost Mages, what would ever make you show your face inside this castle? You were banned from ever entering Kingsperch, yet you came all the way into the castle, a far distance from the edge of our land and the entrance to yours. Tell me why I shouldn’t kill you on the spot, because…” He paused, then chuckled. “Trust me, the urge is almost impossible to resist.”

  Malador rubbed a hand over his pale-white chin. “I hope you’ll resist that specific urge, my King. I came to beg for your help.”

  The King gestured, his hands moving through the air in circles. “Continue.”

  Malador met his eyes with a fierceness that glowed behind the iciness. “As you well know, my people are cursed. No longer can our women bear our children. The Sorceress, Belisandre, unleashed this curse on your orders. I would ask you to present the cure. It has been twenty years since the events that led to this. As you know, I did not order the death of your son. I never would have.” He paused, meeting Queen Rovia’s eyes. “Please, help us. Make our people whole again.”

  King Ryan stood from the throne, stomping forward until he stood right in front of Malador. “I will never help you. A Frost Mage killed my first-born son. My first heir, on the day of his birth!” He retreated a few steps, then paced to the throne and back a few times before meeting Malador’s eyes with his own wild ones. “How could you come here and ask for help?”

  Jovi’s heart beat so hard she could hear it in her ears. She could understand her father’s outrage, but as a King, he shouldn’t let his emotions rule him, which they were clearly doing at this moment. She hopped to her feet before she could stop herself. “Father— “

  He didn’t turn. The only acknowledgment of her outburst came from his hand, raised in a stopping motion. Moments later, he spoke. “No! You will not interrupt. Nobody will.” His voice shook.

  Jovi sat instantly. Her father usually listened to her. Not today, though. Anger ruled him now, nothing else. It wouldn’t let him see reason. It wouldn’t let him see past his hatred.

  Malador spun toward his people, who bowed their heads toward the ground. He stood there for only moments, but when he faced the King once more, he planted his legs a good distance apart. “King Ryan. I can apologize for what happened in the past until my cheeks are stained pink, but it will never be enough to bring your son back to you. I must reiterate the facts to you, though. A single Mage took it upon himself to rebel. Not the whole people. Only a desperate man who could see no consequences for his drastic actions. When we learned what he’d done, we dealt with him accordingly.”

  A pang of sorrow flittered through Jovi. She’d never heard the full tale told, not in front of her. She’d always assumed the Frost Mages had ordered the execution when King Ryan refused to help their army, but in fact, it had been only one of them who hadn’t liked the answer he’d received.

  She sympathized with her father’s anger, but a kingdom couldn’t be ruled with it. He punished every Frost Mage for the action of one, and it was wrong. They’d more than likely killed the rebel, so the past should stay in the past. A new future should start. Now.

  “Father…”

  He snapped his head toward her. “You will address me as ‘King’ in front of our people, young lady.”

  Jovi nodded once, folded her hands in her lap, and turned into the good little princess her father wanted her to be. I guess I’m not allowed to be a part of this, so why did he even ask me to be here? she thought.

  King Ryan glared at Malador with so much hate in his eyes the Mage flinched. “I don’t care that you killed the rebel. Your rebel. He should have never been a rebel to begin with. If you had controlled the people you led, he wouldn’t have been. I will not provide a cure for any of you. In fact, I will celebrate the day you no longer exist. Only then will you cease to be a threat to this kingdom.”

  Malador frowned, running a hand through his pale silver hair. “Is this your final answer, my King?”

  “You do not need to address me as your King as I am not, am I? You are the King of your people, so go, be that. You aren’t welcome in any part of Central Orendor, but you are especially not welcome in Kingsperch. Go back to Frostspher, where you belong.” He snapped his fingers. “Guards.”

  Malador shot an arch of ice from his hands toward the guards. “Wait. What if we form an alliance?”

  The King raised questioning brows.

  “I will marry your daughter, take her as a wife, and provide heirs.”

  A vein throbbed in King Ryan’s forehead. “You. Will. Never. Marry. My. Daughter. Now, get out!”

  As the guards pushed forward, Jovi focused on the tapping of shoes on the tiled floor. She stayed quiet, and knew if she spoke again it wouldn’t end well for her. She would have happily married Malador to bring peace between their families, but her father would have never let that happen. Her duty as princess was to form an alliance. To have the Frost Mage’s magic on their side would make them almost undefeatable in case a usurper ever rose. It made sense, but her father’s anger clouded everything for him.

  Guards shoved at the Frost Mages as they pushed them toward the door of the throne room. They wouldn’t stop until the Mage people exited the gates at the end of Kingsperch. They shoved Malador so hard he almost fell backward toward the door.

  But Malador hadn’t finished. He straighte
ned and faced the throne again. His hands went out in front of him and a shield of blue cut between the guards and his people. One brave soldier tried to push through the wall, and a sheet of ice covered him.

  Malador raised his voice, a grin on his face. “The great King Ryan. Tales of his noble ways and his kindness reach even our ears. Yet, he sentences a whole race to death, all because of a rebel in their midst. You had the fate of Orendor in your capable hands, but your decisions changed the course. This outcome isn’t what I wanted, but your choices have made it easier to accept.”

  “Are you threatening me?” The King spoke through gritted teeth.

  Malador turned his back on the King. “I do not make threats. Only promises. As King of the Frost Mages, I will not stand idle and watch my people die. You are a king; surely you understand that logic?”

  “And as a king, you should understand my inability to help the race of people that killed my son!”

  Malador smirked. “You see, I don’t understand that logic. I will never understand it. You took that joy from me and everyone in my village. We will never have children. Never hear the tinkling laughter of a child in our arms. You have ruined any chance we ever had to have that kind of love. Now, we will ruin yours. Simple as that.”

  With an action too quick for Jovi to understand, King Ryan rushed forward, grabbing a guard by the waist, jostling him back and forth as he dug through his armor.

  What is he doing? she wondered.

  It all happened too fast. A knife spiraled through the air, released from the King’s hand. The short knife spun, almost in slow motion, until it pierced the skin of a random Mage who hadn’t been smart enough to get behind the ice wall right through the heart.

  “I do not take kindly to threats.” The King’s voice boomed.

  The wounded Mage fell to the ground. Malador turned, picked him up, and slung him over his shoulder. With the blue wall gone, he marched his people out the doors without another word. Guards pushed the Frost Mages out the door faster, clearing out the room. A loud swoosh noise accompanied the double doors as they closed. Jovi sat silent and still, shocked at what her father had done. After it had emptied, Jovi was left alone with a silent, sobbing Queen and a shaken, angry King. Just the place she wanted to be.