Page 18 of A Kiss of Healing & Honor (Darkstone Academy #4)

I exhaled in relief as, one by one, the duke’s men kneeled, laying their swords and crossbows on the deck. The flagship was ours.

“Princess Jacinthe!” I looked up to see Ilhan striding towards me, tailed by Alondra, her face streaked with tears.

My breath caught as he drew near, his blue eyes blazing with an intensity that made my knees weak.

Wordlessly, I opened my arms. He swept me up in a crushing embrace and captured my lips in a kiss that stole the very air from my lungs.

For a moment, the world fell away, and there was nothing but the two of us, lost in the heat and the hunger of our embrace. Ilhan’s hands tangled in my hair, pulling me closer, and I melted into him, all my fears and doubts dissolving in the excitement of his touch.

But even as I lost myself in the kiss, I couldn’t shake a nagging sense of uncertainty. I knew Ilhan well enough by now to understand his old-fashioned upbringing and his prudish feelings about my existing relationships with Tama, Boreas, and Gwydion.

Would Ilhan hate himself—and me—when he tried to share me?

But when we broke apart at last, both of us breathless and flushed, I felt only adoration, arousal, and affection flowing through our bond. Arousal pulsed between my legs with a deep, throbbing ache.

Maybe this can work, I thought.

Until yesterday, I wouldn’t have believed it of Ilhan.

Then I remembered the feelings and sensations flowing through my soul bond with him and Gwydion last night. Maybe my stubborn Frankish lord has finally decided he can share me with the others.

As I reluctantly released him, I heard my friends clapping and hooting.

My face felt hot, but my heart was filled with gratitude as I looked around at the faces of my friends. They’d risked everything to save me from the Duke de Norhas’ clutches. Tama, Boreas, Gwydion, and Ilhan—our soul bonds hummed with the intensity of their relief and joy at having me safe once more.

Yet even as I basked in the warmth of their love, a profound sadness settled in my chest at the sight of the injured and the dead, their lives cut short in a battle that should never have been.

“Jacinthe?” Ilhan put a comforting hand on my shoulder.

I nodded through a blur of unshed tears. “I’m fine. And grateful to all of you. But the cost… it was too high.”

“We would do it again in a heartbeat,” Gwydion declared, looking over at the Fae ship moored alongside the duke’s former flagship.

His pale green hair shimmered in the sunlight and his face was alight with the same happiness bubbling through my heart. On the golden deck, I saw Princess Branwen, Lady Karminn, and Lord Mariota intently chanting a spell.

“You belong to us, Jacinthe,” rumbled Boreas as he back-winged, hovering briefly next to the ship. The wind from his great wings blew my hair over my shoulders. “And we protect our own.”

Tama surfaced and nodded solemnly in agreement, his large black eyes never leaving mine. “Do not blame yourself for the choices others made. You are worth fighting for.”

Their words wrapped around me like a warm embrace, chasing away the chill of guilt that had settled in my bones. Tears ran down my face in a stinging cascade, but I was smiling.

“Thank you all. I’m so lucky to have all of you as my friends,” I sniffled, wiping at my cheeks.

“Friends? Is that all we are to you?” Gwydion asked with a teasing smile.

I opened my mouth to respond, but my attention was drawn to another reunion unfolding nearby.

As I watched, Karminn rushed across the gangplank toward the young, unconscious mage Fernan had just bound and gagged. Mage Ysandre lay next to him by the forward mast.

Karminn’s sober brown wool skirts billowed her as she flung herself down on her knees next to the young mage.

She gazed up at Mama and Fernan. “Please, let me talk to my brother! He made a terrible mistake but I know he isn’t a bad person!”

Mama and Fernan exchanged glances. Then Mama looked at me. “You know this young woman?”

I nodded. “Mama, this is Lady Karminn de Monopia, heir to the duchy of Espola.” I met Karminn’s pleading gaze and continued, “I trust Lady Karminn with my life.”

Karminn blinked. Her lightly tanned, freckled face blushed a dark red.

I remembered her telling me stories about her wayward younger brother, and the heartache he caused their parents.

Since Maksim was a common Espolan name, until this moment, I hadn’t connected Mage Maksim to Lord Maksim de Monopia, youngest son of the Duke and Duchess of Espola.

I added, “Besides, what harm can he do, all tied up like that?”

Mama’s brows drew together as she considered the matter for a long moment. “Very well. Let’s hear what Mage Maksim has to say for himself.”

She lifted the sleeping spell on the young mage. His eyes sprang open and he stiffened in his bonds. His brown eyes darted around as he took the situation, then widened as Karminn leaned over him.

“Maksim, you utter fool!” Karminn slapped his face, leaving a reddened imprint. “How could you abandon us to follow that traitor? Because of you, the domina-regent sent me to Darkstone Island. Mother and Father have been sick with worry for both of us!”

“That old cow blamed you and sent you into exile?” Maksim’s youthful face flushed with shame. He turned his head away from her. “I’m sorry, sister. It was a huge mistake to pledge myself to the Duke de Norhas. I know that now.”

Karminn gripped Maksim’s shoulders and pulled him upright,. Tears streaked her face. “Then make this right, brother. Beg Princess-Royal Jonquil’s forgiveness and swear your allegiance to the imperial throne. Our parents deserve no less after all they’ve endured.”

I bit my lip, feeling like an intruder on their private moment, yet unable to look away.

Before Maksim could reply, Prince Arslan swooped down on a large, colorful flying carpet. With a start of joy, I recognized his passenger.

“Your Imperial Highness! It does my heart good to see you again after all this time,” Mage Armand said to Mama.

His weathered face alight with joy, he stepped from Prince Arslan’s flying carpet, now hovering over the deck.

Behind him, I saw two more carpets, carrying Arslan’s sisters and Mage Bevitrice.

Mama dashed forward and embraced Mage Armand. “Oh, I’m so glad you’re still alive!” she exclaimed, just before burying her face in his neck.

He looked startled at her break from royal protocol, but wrapped his arms around her in return. He squeezed his eyes shut, but not before I saw his tears.

Words tumbled from Mama’s lips in a way totally unlike her usual controlled speech. “Everything you did for me—your disgrace, the exile to Darkstone Island—I’m so sorry! All I could think about was saving myself and my baby. How can I ever repay what you did for us?”

His lined cheeks glittering with moisture, Mage Armand shook his head. “Princess Jonquil, there’s nothing to forgive.” He stroked her back. “Helping you was the greatest honor of my life. And it’s been my privilege to teach your immensely talented daughter. Someday, she’ll serve our Dominion well as a powerful mage.”

Overcome with emotion, I stepped forward, enfolding both Mama and Armand in a tight embrace. “I wouldn’t be here without you both. Thank you.”

We stood like that for a long moment, united in our love and gratitude.

“Your Highness.” I looked up to Prince Arslan, resplendent as usual in jewels and silken robes, striding towards me.

His sisters, Karima and Layla, trailed behind him. The faceted gems set in their gold filigree earrings, necklaces, bracelets, and diadems cast a kaleidoscope of colors across the weathered planks.

“Prince Jacinthe,” Arslan said, his voice rich and melodious. “The time has come for us to take our leave. My sisters and I must return to the island to fulfill our oaths to serve out a term as diplomatic hostages.”

I reached out and clasped his hand. His palm was hot and dry against mine. “Thank you, Prince Arslan. For everything. We couldn’t have done this without you and your sisters.”

“It was our honor to assist you.” Arslan inclined his head, a small smile playing at the corners of his sensual mouth. “You folk of the infirmary saved our lives. We Djinni always pay our debts.”

“I am grateful,” I told him.

His smile widened. For a moment, I was lost in the depths of his twilight eyes, drowning in the intensity of his gaze.

“I hope that when your mother ascends to the throne, she will remember this and look upon the Djinni as her friends and allies,” Arslan said softly. “The human Dominion and the Djinni Emirates have much to offer each other, if we can only trust and respect one another.”

Mama stepped forward, her face solemn. “I give you my word, Prince Arslan. When I become domina, I will do everything in my power to ensure peace and cooperation between our peoples. The Djinni will always have my highest esteem.”

Arslan bowed deeply, his hand over his heart. “Then farewell, Princess Jonquil, Princess Jacinthe. May the winds be ever at your back, and may your journey be swift and safe.”

His sisters echoed his gesture and words.

With a swirl of silk and a rush of wind, the three Djinni leaped onto their magic carpets and soared into the sky.

I watched them until they were nothing more than distant specks.

A groan of pain jolted me from my reverie. Across the deck, a cluster of sailors and De Norhas men-at-arms lay wounded on the sun-bleached planks.

Mama and Armand exchanged a glance, their faces grave.

“There’s no time to lose,” Mama said, her voice sharp with urgency. “We must tend to the wounded.”

Armand nodded, already rolling up his sleeves.

Mage Bevitrice unfastened her cloak. “How can I help?”

“Avelina, will you help me triage the wounded?” Armand asked, squinting as he surveyed the wounded sailors and men-at-arms sitting or lying scattered across the deck.

“Of course, Niccolò,” she replied.

Then Mage Armand turned to us. “Apprentices Jacinthe, Alondra, Ilhan, and Gwydion! Bring me whatever supplies you can find and let’s get to work,” he ordered in a brisk tone.

I sprinted for the nearest hatch and climbed belowdecks to gather bandages and salves from the ship’s stores.

Beside me, Gwydion, Alondra and Ilhan did the same, their faces set with determination. Then we hurried to rejoin Mama, Bevitrice, and Armand.

The three of them were already hard at work, their hands glowing with the soft light of healing magic.

The next hour passed in a blur as we all worked feverishly on the most severe cases among the duke’s men.

The Divine Mother be thanked, Captain Ondine and the men-at-arms on our side had come through with only minor injuries.

The ship’s captain waited his turn. I saw the arm of his coat was slashed and stiff with blood, with a crude, red-stained bandage knotted around his upper arm. I waved him over and sat him on a stool.

As I began treating the deep sword cut that had almost severed his biceps muscle, I asked, “Captain Jaquob, why did you side with the Duke de Norhas?”

The captain, pale with pain, turned his face away. “Everyone knows that Their Imperial Highnesses have no heir. And Domina-Regent Jacinthe’s an old lady now. She’s not going to have any more babies. Once she dies, what happens to the throne?” He grimaced. “Now the duke, he’s a famous general, so you know he’s a good leader. And he’s got grown children like Lord Fernan here to take over when he’s gone.”

“And now that you know about my mother and sisters?” I drew a curved suture needle out of a jar of disinfecting spirits.

“I knew I’d made a mistake as soon as the duke told us who it was he’d taken prisoner. But it was too late by then. I was already a traitor, so I thought I’d see how things went.” Jaquob shook his head and blew out a breath. “Guess it’s the gallows or the axe for me now. My poor wife and kids.”

My stomach heaved at the thought of the public executions meted out to traitors.

“If you and your men pledge your loyalty to my mother, I’m sure she’ll intercede with the domina-regent on your behalf,” I promised recklessly.

“She will?” He blinked at me in open astonishment. “I mean, I’m most grateful, Your Highness!”

Soon thereafter, I realized we’d done all we could for now. The wounded were patched up, and the dead laid to eternal rest beneath sailcloth shrouds.

I straightened, my back aching and my hands stained with blood. I caught Ilhan watching me, his gaze soft with admiration. A flutter of warmth bloomed in my chest and I smiled back.

The captain intoned the prayers for the dead over the slain, then the surviving sailors slid the bodies overboard. I saw Tama’s dark-haired merman friends catch the corpses and bear them away.

I hoped that his Dolphin Clan allies would treat the dead with respect. But I suspected that the Sea-People would not willingly abandon so much fresh meat, and shuddered.

After the funerals, Captain Jaquob approached Mama and me, his injured arm now supported in a crude sling.

“Your Imperial Highness,” he said, dropping to one knee before Mama. “I pledge my loyalty to you and to the rightful domina-regent. My officers and I are at your service.”

Mama inclined her head graciously. “Rise, Captain Jaquob. I accept your pledge, and will let bygones be bygone.”

One by one, the ship’s officers stepped forward and kneeled before her, their fists pressed to their hearts as they swore fealty.

I watched, my throat tight with emotion, as Mama accepted their oaths with regal grace.

As the last officer stepped back, a commotion drew our attention to the ship’s rail.

A swirling column of seawater rose high above the surface of the ocean, lifting Tama until he was level with the deck, his wet silver hair flowing over his shoulders.

Beside him, Boreas landed in the water. His massive feathered form dwindled rapidly, leaving the huge saddle to float on the waves next to the Fae ship.

While Boreas’ passengers hastily scrambled on board the Fae ship, the Wind-Walker continued to shrink.

When he’d regained human shape, he heaved a boulder-sized chunk of black rock up onto the deck. Then he vaulted over the Fae ship’s railing.

I barely had time to register his transformation before he was striding across the gangplank, naked and magnificent, his red hair blazing in the sunlight and his golden eyes fixed on me.

He swept me into his arms, his embrace crushing the breath from my lungs. “Friend Jacinthe!”

“I thought I’d lost you when that cannonball hit you!” I clung to him, my face pressed to his broad, bare chest as I breathed in his scent.

Then I went up on tiptoes and exchanged a long kiss with him. His hot mouth moved over mine with possessive energy. Arousal pulsed to renewed life between my legs.

Panting, we parted at last. I saw fresh pink scars running down his right forearm where his wing had been injured. I ran my fingers over it. “You’re lucky you didn’t lose your arm!”

“So everyone keeps telling me,” he replied cheerfully. “It’s like no one believes Wind-Walkers are tough.”

Gwydion and Ilhan both snorted derisively. Alondra, blushing a deep pink from collarbones to forehead, stared at his unabashed nudity.

“Jacinthe, introduce to me to your friends,” Mama said behind me.

My face heated as I hastily disentangled myself from Boreas’ embrace, though I kept my hand clasped in his. Mama looked around our little group, and I sensed she had questions about who they were and what they meant to me.

Questions I wasn’t sure how to answer.

“Mama, this is Prince Boreas of the Wind-Walkers,” I began. “Son of Lady Aeolia, King Menelaus’ chief vizier. And, ah, my special friend.”

“Honored to meet King Menelaus’ mate at last,” Boreas boomed. He grinned down at Mama. “He’ll be overjoyed to discover you aren’t dead like everyone thinks.”

Mama’s cheeks turned pink under her cosmetics. Carefully not looking anywhere lower than his chest, she replied, “It’s my pleasure to make your acquaintance, Prince Boreas. And thank you for, ah, coming to my daughter’s aid.”

Her gaze slid over to Tama. “You’re one of the Sea-People, are you not?”

Tama nodded. “I am Tama of Walrus Clan, protector and mate of your daughter.”

Mama’s eyes widened at this. She glanced at Boreas, then back at Tama.

“I… see,” she managed, then continued more smoothly, “I’m pleased to make your acquaintance. And my thanks for coming to my daughter’s aid.”

She repeated her searching looks and the formula of thanks as I introduced her to Gwydion, Ilhan, and Alondra.

She smiled with genuine warmth at the siblings. “I remember meeting your father, Duke Cahill, at court. His, ah, forceful personality made quite an impression.”

Ilhan grimaced.

Alondra said, “Does that mean he tried to bully you into agreeing with him on something, Your Highness? Because Father does that to everyone.”

Smiling, Mama shook her head. “He helped me fake my death and then escape the palace. Well, I’m overjoyed to see you both on my daughter’s side. And you’re her fellow apprentices under Mage Armand?”

Ilhan and Alondra both nodded. “Yes, Your Highness,” they chorused.

Mama smiled graciously. “Well, now that we’ve dispensed with the formalities, let’s decide our next move.”

Gwydion squinted up at the sky, his expression grave. “Time is running short, Your Highness. Our ship-spell can only be sustained until noon.” His silver gaze rested on me, though he continued to address my mother. “Will Princess Jacinthe be returning with us to Darkstone Academy?”