Page 8 of A Flame of the Phoenix (An Heir Comes to Rise #6)

CHAPTER SEVEN

Tauria

T auria Stagknight had been imagining this moment for more than one hundred years. Now, living it, she couldn’t organize her tangled feelings about being back on Fenstead soil.

Staring up at a banner hanging at an angle, Tauria resisted the urge to bow in sorrow with the stag emblem of her kingdom.

The lands were not the same. Casting her sight out the window, it tore her soul-deep to see the vibrant hills and the thriving city she once knew so lifeless now. It may as well have been wraiths who roamed the streets. Many dark fae—but also many of her people who hadn’t been able to make it out—still lived here under a dark, disorderly regime.

These halls she walked were foreign now. She’d dreamed of the welcome embrace they would offer, but all she’d been met with was the shunning of a betrayer. While her kingdom remained overrun by the enemy and destroyed of its beauty, she felt no better than the dark fae invaders. She was here in the arms of the one who’d taken everything from her.

Mordecai had been suspiciously subdued, leaving her alone for the most part while she came to terms with being back on Fenstead soil. Tauria had been allocated a guest room in her own castle as one of the few that wasn’t ransacked and torn apart. She had yet to face what had become of her old rooms.

The walls bore eyes of judgment. Sometimes, she even thought they whispered their shock.

How dare she come back as a compliant hand to the dark fae high lord?

Tauria didn’t dress in her homeland greens. She wore black. Until she reclaimed the kingdom on her own terms and killed the evil that grew like poison, she would continue to mourn on these lands.

Mordecai had requested she join him for supper this night.

She didn’t attend his summons. Instead she made her way to the library—another place she’d been avoiding until now, since it held too many fond memories, and she was afraid to face what state it could have been left in. She wasn’t afraid of Mordecai’s wrath at dismissing him.

Tauria had saved the high lord in Olmstone against Tarly’s arrow, which might have struck his chest true. It had been a reckless act of fear when Mordecai was winning against them, and she’d acted on impulse in an attempt to gain his trust after he figured out Nik had been trailing them all the way to Olmstone despite their broken bond.

She’d done it for Nik, yet her heart ached at being so far from him, and she couldn’t subdue the guilt that her ruse was to keep trying to convince Mordecai she wanted to be with him.

Her nerves about Mordecai dissipated when she approached the entrance to the library. There had never been a door to this space, as the long line of Fenstead monarchs had believed knowledge and stories should never be restricted to anyone. In their free time, the castle staff were allowed to wander and consume as much of the literature as they liked, the only strict rule being no piece was to be removed without the knowledge of the king or queen.

Tauria had slowed in the hallway leading to the open library, taking in the real tree trunks that had been crafted and preserved to create a wonderful archway. Already, she was met with the wounds of war that had defiled the space. She reached out to brush her fingers over some of the deep wedges that had been hacked out of the once perfect artistry. It wasn’t beyond repair, but still, her heart ached, and the sounds of fighting filled her ears as she imagined the Fenstead warriors that would have fought until their dying breath to protect their land and the castle.

With a deep breath, she pushed herself past the entrance. Fenstead’s royal library was not the most expansive—that was the Livre des Verres in Olmstone. Still, here was commonly known as the most beautiful library to exist on the entire continent. Tauria stopped before the balcony crafted of entwining branches. Her knees almost buckled where she stood. Right here was the most at home she’d felt since being back.

As a child, she’d always thought this library must be what it would be like to stand in the middle of a giant, hollowed-out tree, where within, it lent mankind its flesh to scribe the infinite wonders of life, death, and imagination.

The bookshelves were perfectly imperfect, with the artisans having preserved as much natural form as possible. The balcony circled around an ancient silver oak tree this section of the castle was built around. There were many legends about it. Its roots were deep, and they spread so far even Tauria couldn’t feel where the finer veins ended. She could press her hand to it and focus her Florakinetic ability to feel the threads of life running through her kingdom like a heartbeat.

Some of the stories her mother would tell her claimed this tree spread far beyond Fenstead soils. That the strongest Florakinetics could trace the finest threads of the roots to other kingdoms.

Tauria’s bright memories started to dull as she came back to the ominous state of neglect the library had been left to. There wasn’t too much destruction, to her relief. Some bookcases had been toppled, and books littered the ground, but she could fix that; was already making her way toward the first section.

What made her spirit wander the library in sorrow was how lonely it was. This had always been a place of shared joy and wonder, filled with smiling faces, enthusiastic young people, and eager scholars. Now it was just her lone soul among the ghosts of her people.

She didn’t know how much time passed as she immersed herself in stacking books back where they belonged and using her wind to help right the bookcases on the third level she’d entered onto. It brought a spark of hope to watch the library slowly be put back to order.

Book by book, stone by stone, tree by tree, her land would be restored. On her life and lineage, she swore it to the great silver oak tree that remained a proud beacon of her kingdom.

Tauria Stagknight bowed her head to the ancient tree in promise.

When she slipped the next book onto the shelf, Tauria stiffened at the presence that had crept in silently. Mordecai had gotten so close before she’d even detected him, and he took the last book in the pile out of her hand. She held her breath when he leaned in, her instincts screaming for distance. He fixed the book back onto the self, his front brushing her back.

“You missed supper,” he said, so calm, but with an edge of discontent.

“I wasn’t hungry.”

“Still, I expect you to join me when I ask. I do not like to be left waiting.”

“That was not my intention.”

“It matters not. When I call, you come, princess.”

Her nails dug into her palms with the title.

I am Queen Tauria Silverknight.

“My apologies,” she said tightly.

With Mordecai, she had to choose her battles. Provoking him over a missed supper would only set her back with him.

Tauria didn’t want to turn around, wishing he would leave now he’d had the chance to chastise her.

“Don’t you want to know why I invited you to dine with me?” he asked with a note of impatience.

“It wasn’t simply for my company?”

“While it is cold and empty, your company has not been desirable to seek thus far, no.”

After what had happened in Olmstone, she’d hardly left her rooms in her turmoil. Nik had suffered a near-fatal wound…and she’d left with the enemy before she knew if he’d pull through. In all his Nightwalking to her since, she’d awoken with impressions of Nik’s unwavering love and devotion. It had slowly been killing her that she couldn’t give it back in the same way.

She missed him so terribly. A piece of her soul was decaying in his absence.

“It’s been a lot to process,” she explained. “I didn’t know what to expect, being back in Fenstead.”

“Which is why I have been gracious enough to give you time and space, but I cannot wait much longer.”

Tauria’s teeth slammed together when his hands on her arms guided her around. She couldn’t look anywhere but at his depthless onyx eyes. His firm jaw had grown a darker shadow, and his black hair was longer and unbound.

Dread pooled in her gut.

“Wait for what?” She put every effort into keeping her voice from wavering.

“I have long set aside a needed visit to my kingdom—Valgard.”

The air released from her lungs. It wasn’t what she’d expected him to say.

“Was the supper your farewell for a while?”

“No. I wanted to ask you to join me.”

Tauria didn’t know what to say. The suggestion shocked her, only because in all her life, she’d only known their eastern neighbors across the sea in the whispers of nightmares. The kingdom responsible for the Dark Age that wanted to suppress humans and have the dark fae dominate. Then, in this age, they were the face of the centuries-old war still waging.

Now there were new truths to their current war. Mordecai was the resurrected dark fae king of nightmarish legend, but it was Marvellas who’d brought him back. The Spirit of Souls and the Goddess of the Stars had been behind the war this time, and Mordecai was as good as her puppet.

Tauria wanted to figure him out. She was here by his side and playing a very risky game in getting close to him. But she couldn’t shake the feeling there was more to him. How could one as powerful and legendary as Mordecai be content as the foot soldier of someone greater? He had a child in this life—something that sparked her curiosity wildly. They could be a weakness to exploit, or if that wouldn’t work, she could at least discover who the child was, so they could eliminate the threat of his spawn before it became one.

“I only just got to come back to my kingdom,” she said.

Tauria weighed the options in her mind. Staying in her kingdom while Mordecai was preoccupied across the sea would give her freedom to start strategizing here. Find weaknesses in the dark fae forces, go out to speak to what was left of her people, and get all of this information to Nik.

But no one had been to Valgard, Mordecai’s stronghold. What secrets or revelations could she uncover in the land more elusive than Lakelaria? It was a highly tempting curiosity.

“It will still be here after a week or two, depending on my business over there.”

She made up her mind.

Tauria couldn’t pass up an opportunity to gain intel with a ticket straight into the heart of the continent’s enemy territory.

“You would trust me with you?” she tested.

“You came with me despite your dying mate. I’ve been thinking I was wrong about you.”

“What did you think before?”

“That you had conspired with Nikalias against me. But that would be a very foolish thing to do, and you are no fool—are you, Tauria?”

“I warned him not to follow, but I knew he would anyway.” It killed her how easily the lies about Nik had started to flow.

To slither away from his close proximity, Tauria resumed her work, bending to scoop more books into her hands.

“I will assign staff for this.”

“I would like to do it myself, or—” Tauria swallowed her resentment to have to ask permission . “If you would allow it, I would very much like to recruit my own selection to help restore the library. And hire staff. Discover what noble houses might still be alive to resume an orderly court here. I was hoping to venture out into the city.”

The capital city of Calenmoore had no high walls like in High Farrow and Rhyenelle. Fenstead was a peaceful nation that had upheld its values of peace and acceptance when the war broke out. Even now, Tauria would not wish any barricades to be in place, nor would she build them. She would fight for what her people believed in.

“It is not safe for you. Fenstead has long been left to a state of anarchy, I’m afraid.”

“Then why usurp my father’s throne and slaughter all those people to let a great kingdom fall to ruin?” she snapped.

It was rare for Mordecai to show any sympathy, but he did right now, even if only a flicker before he looked away.

“Eventually, Marvellas wants you back on the throne—as dark fae. You would not have been killed all that time ago when your kingdom was taken. The instruction was to capture you for Transition.”

Tauria stiffened against a shiver at the alternate fate that could have easily been hers.

“That’s really her end goal—for all of us to reign as dark fae?”

“We are the strongest species.”

“Because you feed on humans,” she said, unable to hide her disgust.

Mordecai came closer again, and Tauria’s grip on her books tightened.

“I have already told you, the dark fae are not all cruel, and humans can enjoy being fed from. At the end of this war, only resistance will be cut from humanity’s weakness.”

His certainty that he would achieve his dark fae reign grated on her nerves. While he wasn’t forcing her to change now, and she’d been adamant against it, she wasn’t such a fool to think she was safe from the Transition forever.

“When do we leave for Valgard?” she asked.

“In a week.”

Her heart skipped a beat.

“Then I should like to enjoy my kingdom before we leave,” she said to excuse herself from his company.

Tauria didn’t wait for a response. She placed the pile of her books onto the shelf, forced a pleasant smile to the high lord, and left.

Her thoughts were a storm, and her magick could hardly be bottled in her restless state. She played with wisps of wind between her fingers, which helped soothe her emotions all the way to her guest room.

Inside, she headed straight to her desk, opening her well of ink and hastily pulling out a sheet of parchment. With her quill she began to write out what had happened today. So little, yet so much with where she was about to venture. Once she’d got it all out, Tauria finished her note as she always did.

The moon is half tonight. I love you. I miss you.

Standing with her letter, Tauria made her way over to the fireplace that was kept ablaze. Flame caught at the edge of the paper, and she watched it devour her words like she did every night before she slept. For Nik. It was how she communicated with him without their bond. He would Nightwalk to her and be able to find the memory of her writing the note to know what it had said before she’d burned it. Then he would create a beautiful dream that left his lasting impression when she awoke, so she’d never feel alone.

Dressed for bed, Tauria sat at the mirror for a moment. Since he could only see from her perspective in her memories, this was the only way Nik saw her face. Her hand reached to the glass as she thought of him, but the cold surface turned her sorrowful, and she hugged her knees instead.

“I’m a little frightened,” she admitted, knowing he would feel her emotions anyway. “But I’m even more determined.”

Tauria hoped to dive deeper into the history of high lord Mordecai—to find weaknesses to exploit—and there was no place that could have more knowledge about him than his own kingdom from ages past. But there was no telling what else she might discover on the land of the continent’s roots of terror.