Page 22 of A Kiss of Healing & Honor (Darkstone Academy #4)

That evening, we enjoyed a celebratory dinner in the captain’s cabin, now shared by Princess Jonquil, Jacinthe, and my sister.

My gaze fell on the man seated across from me, and my mood instantly soured. Fernan de Norhas.

Despite his aid this morning, everything about him set my teeth on edge.

I decided I hated the arrogant tilt of his chin and the calculating glint in his eyes.

Then there was his fresh velvet doublet, embroidered with the De Norhas double-mountain badge, when I was still wearing my grimy, sweat-stained shirt and jerkin.

I’d given myself a hasty sponge bath before dinner to wash away the grime of battle and blood from tending the wounded, but all my spare clothes and other belongings were still back in my rooms at Darkstone Castle.

Or maybe it was the way he was openly flirting with Alondra, paying her outrageous compliments, as if she was a prize he hoped to win.

Over the first course of fish soup and fresh-baked bread, Fernan leaned forward, his voice smooth as silk. “I must say, this is quite the auspicious occasion. Lord Ilhan. A celebration not only of our victory, but of the future.”

His eyes cut to Jacinthe, who sat next to me. “Isn’t that right, my dear highness?”

Beside me, Jacinthe stiffened.

I frowned, a sense of unease prickling down my spine. “What do you mean, my lord?”

Fernan smiled, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “Why, my betrothal to the Princess Jacinthe, of course.”

He smiled at Jacinthe. The table fell silent.

“What?” I demanded, incredulous.

Fernan smirked. “Didn’t Princess Jacinthe tell you she and I are to be wed? Bound by a blood-sealed contract, too. Very old-fashioned.”

The words hit me like a physical blow. A blood-sealed betrothal?

I turned my head and stared at Jacinthe, shock and dismay warring inside me. Around the table, the others wore similar expressions of stunned disbelief.

“Jacinthe, what the fuck?” Boreas roared. His borrowed shirt was a size too small and stretched across his shoulders like a second skin. “And why him, of all the fucking earthworms you could’ve picked?”

“Why in the world did you even agree to such a thing? Did someone force you?” Princess Jonquil asked, her voice strained. She added, “I meant to ask earlier, but circumstances intervened.”

Under the table, Jacinthe’s hand grabbed for mine and squeezed hard.

She looked at Fernan. “I hoped that Count Fernan might agree to nullify it.” She added with an edge to her tone, “Since he declared he was unhappy about joining himself to a ‘half-Dragon abomination.’”

A clamor of voices erupted, everyone talking over each other.

I barely heard them, my mind reeling.

Betrothed.

To Fernan de Norhas.

Gwydion’s voice cut through the din like a blade. “Jacinthe! When, exactly, did you sign this contract?”

Everyone stopped to listen.

“Back on the island. I—I needed something important from Lady Erzabetta, and this was her price.” She raised her chin. “It was a matter of life and death. Back then, I didn’t think there was much chance that the contract would be completed.” Her shoulders slumped. “I was wrong,” she finished in a whisper.

“What favor could be important enough to agree to marry him?” Boreas demanded, pointing at Fernan.

“I can guess.” Gwydion frowned reproachfully at Jacinthe. “You did it for me, didn’t you? To help break my curse?”

Jacinthe bowed her head. Her silence was answer enough.

I cast my mind back over the tumultuous events of the past few months.

Of course. My heart clenched. Of course, she sacrificed herself for one of us!

“I apologize for my ungallant first reaction to news of our betrothal,” Fernan said smoothly. “I’ve had time to consider the situation since then.”

His gaze went to Princess Jonquil, sitting at the head of the table. “Your Highness, surely you agree that a union with the House of Norhas would benefit the imperial throne more than joining your daughter with the House of Parrish?”

He shot me a look filled with malicious amusement.

“No,” I growled, just as Jacinthe exclaimed, “Mama, no!”

Her mother’s lips tightened. “Count Fernan, I cannot commit to either course of action without consulting the domina-regent,” she said in a stiff tone. Her dark brows rose as she studied the De Norhas heir. “Surely you’re aware that she must approve any betrothals involving heirs to the throne?”

I breathed a sigh of relief at hearing Princess Jonquil deftly evade Fernan’s trap.

Then Fernan dropped a lead ball into the stew.

“In any case, Your Highness, it’s merely a theoretical question,” he said, smiling. “When I searched through my father’s papers this afternoon, I couldn’t find the contract. Father must’ve had it on him when we captured him.” Fernan smiled insincerely and spread his hands. “So, there’s nothing I can do to nullify the betrothal until the document is back in our hands.”

The dinner dragged on after that, each course more tasteless than the last. I barely noticed what I was eating. Despite a day filled with physical exertion, my appetite was gone.

Across from me, Boreas stabbed at his plate with more force than necessary, his jaw clenched. Gwydion’s eyes were cold, polished silver as he watched Fernan’s every move.

Only Fernan seemed unaffected, smiling and laughing as if he hadn’t just upended all our lives. He turned to his left, his voice low and intimate as he said something to Lady Karminn.

She giggled, batting her lashes. The sight made my stomach turn.

Then Fernan turned his attention back to Alondra, who was seated on his right.

Rage flared hot in my veins as he smiled at her, all charm and charisma.

Under the table, my free hand clenched into a fist. I forced myself to breathe, to unclench my fingers one by one.

Losing my temper wouldn’t help Jacinthe. Or my sister. It would only make me look like an ill-mannered churl.

I glanced at Princess Jonquil, hoping for an ally. Her face was a regal mask, betraying nothing. But when her eyes met mine, I saw the same dismay I felt.

The Duke de Norhas’s son might have sided with us against his father, but I still didn’t trust him one bit.

∞∞∞

When dinner finally ended, I caught Alondra’s eye and tilted my head towards the deck. She nodded, rising to follow me.

We made our way up to the deck. The cool night breeze felt like a balm. For a moment, we simply stood there, looking out over the dark waters.

“What a mess,” Alondra said at last, her voice tight. “Poor Jacinthe. And poor Aunt Amella.”

“Aunt Amella?” I asked in surprise. “After everything she did?”

Alondra sighed, her eyes shadowed. “I know she made horrible choices. But in the end, she was just another pawn in the duke’s game. Another victim of his ambition.”

My little sister sounded wise beyond her years.

The image of Aunt Amella’s severed head rolling across the deck appeared in my mind’s eyes. Bile rose in my throat.

“She could’ve redeemed herself,” I said roughly. “When she became chatelaine. She could’ve made things right. Instead, it took her less than a day to show her true colors.”

I took a deep breath, mourning the pretty, vivacious aunt I remembered from my childhood.

What happened to her to twist her and embitter her like that? And what will happen to my cousin Mirabella now?

Alondra shook her head. “She was in too deep, Ilhan. The duke had his claws in her. And he’s trying to do the same with Jacinthe and this betrothal.”

Anger surged through me. I clenched my fists. “I won’t let the marriage happen.”

“I know.” Alondra laid a hand on my arm, her touch gentle. “We have to stop the De Norhas family from ruling the Dominion after the domina-regent passes into the Divine Mother’s embrace.”

I nodded and took a deep breath, forcing myself to unclench my hands.

“I just feel so helpless,” I admitted, my voice raw. “Jacinthe’s sacrificed so much for us. And what have I done? I’m just… me. Not a Dragon. Not a merman. Or a Fae prince.”

I thought of Tama with his deadly grace and merciless resolve. Of Gwydion, with his sensual arts and Fae beauty. Of Boreas, a literal Dragon in human form endowed with superhuman virility.

How could I, a mere mortal man, even compare in Jacinthe’s eyes as a friend, let alone a lover?

I laughed bitterly. “Someday, I’ll be the first Duke of Frankia who failed to graduate from the Imperial Military Academy, as Father likes to remind me. How can I possibly help Jacinthe?”

Ever since my powers awakened, I had been a disappointment to my father, who’d wanted a warrior son to carry on his legacy.

Alondra’s grip tightened on my arm. “Father’s never given either of us any credit for doing anything right. But don’t you dare sell yourself short, brother!” she said fiercely. “You’re brave, and kind, and smart. You’re the one who organized this rescue. That makes you the one who saved Jacinthe from the duke today.”

“But I couldn’t have done it without everyone’s help,” I pointed out. “You, Gwydion, Tama, Boreas, Castellan Guisbald—”

Alondra punched my arm. Hard. “And none of that would have happened if you hadn’t led the effort. Shut up and take some credit for your actions.”

“Thank you,” I whispered.

Her smile was genuine this time. “What are sisters for? And don’t worry about that stupid betrothal. We’ll find a way to break it.”

I hugged her. “Thank you, Alondra.”

The quiet moment between us was shattered by a great splash. Turning to the railing, I saw Tama rising from the waves, water sluicing off his pale, pearly skin and silver hair.

He drew on the power of Water. It surged into a wave that carried him up the side of the ship. He gripped the railing and swung himself over to sit on it. His smooth, powerful dolphin tail shone in the golden glow from the deck lanterns.

“Tama,” I greeted cautiously.

His cold black eyes fixed on me. “You regret the Chatelaine Margitts’ death? Why?”

I realized he’d been eavesdropping on us from the water and wondered at his keen hearing.

“She was my aunt. And yes, I regret her death. I regret the deaths of everyone who died today. “

“I do not. And I would have killed her myself,” Tama’s voice was flat and hard as steel. “She broke her oath and handed Jacinthe over to the enemy.”

His words hit me like a punch to the gut. I stared at him, horror rising in my throat. “You…you would have…?”

“Slain her where she stood,” he finished, eyes glinting. “I am a warrior, Friend Ilhan. I regret only that the duke stole my prey.”

I shuddered, feeling suddenly cold despite the balmy night air. This was the side of Tama I tried not to think about: a merciless predator from the ocean deeps.

And yet, I could understand Tama’s reasoning. Aunt Amella had betrayed us all. Even before that, her collusion with Erzabetta and Roderigo had led to so much pain and suffering at Darkstone Academy.

But to hear Tama speak of it so callously, as if taking a life meant nothing to him… It chilled me to my core.

“I understand your anger,” I said carefully, measuring my words. “Truly, I do. But I’m a healer. Cold-blooded murder goes against everything I believe in.”

“We take an oath to do no harm,” Alondra chimed in, her fingers digging into my arm.

“Yes. Because you are healers.” Tama’s lips curled, baring the tips of his razor-sharp shark’s teeth. “But I am a warrior. Killing to protect my clan is my duty. I do not shy away from it as you do.”

“Killing is necessary in the heat of battle,” I said. “But not when your enemy is already defeated and helpless.”

A long silence followed as Tama seemed to digest this.

Finally, he said, “Drylanders are strange. But for Jacinthe’s sake, I will abide by your customs. Even if I don’t understand them.”

Every so often, Tama reminded me of how not-human he really was. I struggled to think of a way to explain my deep-seated convictions in a way that Tama could comprehend.

“Think of it this way,” I told him. “Someone who’s still alive can become an ally. But the dead are a wasted resource.”

“I… suppose,” Tama said slowly. His lightless eyes returned to us, resting first on Alondra, then me. “But if someone threatens Jacinthe, or you, I will deal with them. Clan comes first.”

Did he really just say what I thought he said? I wondered.

Alondra shifted closer to me, her hand finding mine and gripping tight. I squeezed back, drawing strength from my sister’s touch.

“Does that mean… are we part of your clan now, Lord Tama?” she asked hesitantly.

Tama stared at us. For a long, tense moment, he regarded us in stony silence. I tensed, hoping my sister’s question hadn’t mortally offended the merman.

Then he gave a slow blink. “Yes.”

I inhaled sharply at the unexpected reply.

As I gaped at him, he turned away from us.

With a flick of his powerful tail, he launched himself from the railing and dove back down into the sea.

Shaken and unsettled, but also oddly warmed by his reply, I looked down at Alondra, seeing my mixed emotions mirrored on her expression.

“He scares me sometimes,” she whispered. “He usually seems so nice. And then he tears someone’s throat out, just like that.”

I nodded. “I’m glad he’s on our side.”

As I escorted Alondra to the cabin she shared with Jacinthe and Princess Jonquil and Lady Karminn, I wondered what Father would think of a deadly merman claiming me as kin.

The thought made me smile.