Page 32 of A Kiss of Healing & Honor (Darkstone Academy #4)

To my utter shock, the domina-regent’s face lit up with a radiant smile.

“Jacinthe,” she breathed, stepping towards me with open arms. “My dear, dear granddaughter. How wonderful to finally meet you!”

I stood frozen with shock as she embraced me in a cloud of expensive rose perfume. My mind reeled.

After the hostile interrogation we’d just endured, her warm welcome was the very last thing I had expected.

As the domina-regent pulled back, holding me at arm’s length to study my face, I glimpsed Mama’s equally stunned expression.

“You have my eyes,” the domina-regent said softly, her gaze moving over me to take in my dark complexion and coppery hair. “And your father’s coloring. You are beautiful, my dear.”

I managed a shaky smile. “Hello, Grandmother Jacinthe. It’s, ah, nice to meet you.”

My grandmother smiled radiantly and stroked my cheek.

Behind me, I sensed Menelaus relaxing from his tense stance.

Then my grandmother’s expression sobered as she looked past me to where my father stood.

“Jonquil, King Menelaus,” she said, her voice thick with emotion. “I have apologies to make to you both. I beg you both to forgive me and my husband, even though the hurt we caused you is unforgivable. We were wrong, so terribly wrong, back then. And I’ve bitterly regretted it for years.”

Mama froze as my grandmother’s shoulders sagged under the weight of two decades of guilt and pain.

“We made so many mistakes,” my grandmother continued, her eyes brimming with tears. “But none greater than how we handled your love affair. As parents, we broke your trust. As rulers, we squandered a chance for lasting peace with the Dragon Kingdom.” She shook her head, silver hair and jewels catching the light. “We were short-sighted and foolish, blinded by our own prejudices and fears. I see that now.”

I glanced at Mama, seeing the conflict play out across her face. Years of pain warred with the longing for reconciliation.

She stepped forward, reaching for her mother’s hands.

“Mother.” Her voice was choked with emotion. “Thank you for your apology. And I—I forgive you.”

My grandmother looked at my father, her expression both hopeful and apprehensive.

“And you, King Menelaus?” she asked. “Can you find it in your heart to forgive an old woman’s foolishness?”

I held my breath, watching my father jaw clench as his golden eyes flickered with the fire of old hurts. But as he looked at Mama, something in his expression softened.

“For Jonquil’s sake,” he rumbled, “and for the sake of peace between our peoples, I accept your apology.” He straightened to his full, imposing height.

“Thank you. Our two peoples have been enemies for far too long,” my grandmother said with palpable relief. “You have our eternal gratitude for your aid in defending the capital yesterday. General Clovis told me the Wind-Walkers turned the tide and gave us victory.”

Menelaus grinned. “It was fun. It’s been years since I saw action like that! And you’re welcome,” he added.

Then she turned back to Mama with an air of renewed purpose.

“Jonquil,” she said, her voice taking on a more formal tone. “In the interest of public stability, will you resume your role as Princess-Royal and heir to the throne?”

Mama hesitated.

She had lived in hiding for so long, concealing her true identity. To step back into that role now, after everything that had happened… I could only imagine how daunting it must feel.

“I…” Mama began, then paused, clearly struggling with her answer. “Yes, Mother,” she finally said, though her voice lacked conviction.

As my grandmother beamed at Mama in approval, I wondered what this sudden shift would mean for all of us. Our lives had been in upheaval over the past eighteen months, and now we faced even more change.

Then Grandmother Jacinthe’s piercing hazel eyes turned to me. I felt her appraising me, calculating, as if she were weighing my worth on some invisible scale.

“And you, Jacinthe,” she said, her voice rich with authority. “As the second in line to the throne, you too have a vital role to play in securing the future of our Dominion.”

I swallowed hard, trying to quell the nervous flutter in my stomach. “I… I’m honored.”

“You should be.” She smiled. “You shall be granted the traditional titles and estates befitting your station: Princess-Royal of the Imperial House, Duchess of the Western Isles, Countess of Felicitas Victoria, and Baroness of Tria Flumina.”

My mind reeled, trying to grasp the enormity of what I was being given. Felicitas Victoria alone—the largest and busiest port on the continent—represented wealth beyond my wildest dreams.

Karminn had once told me that her parents received four percent of all the import duties and sales taxes on goods passing through the Port of Baleares. As a result, the Duke and Duchess of Espola were among the wealthiest nobles in the Dominion.

As Countess of Felicitas Victoria, even just one percent of the port’s revenues must be a dazzling annual sum.

“I—I don’t know what to say,” I stammered, feeling woefully unprepared for this unexpected gift of titles and estates.

“There is, of course, a price for such power and privilege,” she said, her tone sharpening. “We expect you to do your duty in securing the future of our dynasty. That means wedding a suitable candidate as soon as possible and bearing children to continue the imperial line.”

I thought of Tama, Boreas, Gwydion, and Ilhan. How could I possibly explain our unique relationship to my grandmother?

“Your choice of the new Duke de Norhas as your betrothed is… interesting,” my grandmother continued, raising an eyebrow and glancing at Fernan, who had been quietly observing the reunion. “Tell me, child, did you plan this marriage to secure the future loyalty of Norhas to the Dominion?”

I glanced at Fernan, who stood rigid and expressionless beside me. Our eyes met briefly, then I said, “No, Grandmother Jacinthe. I was coerced into agreeing to the betrothal by Lady Erzabetta de Norhas, who was working on behalf of her uncle, the late Duke Beltrán de Norhas. I have no intention of marrying the present Duke de Norhas.”

Fernan cleared his throat. “And, if Your Imperial Majesty will pardon my honesty, I, too, was coerced into signing the betrothal contract. Princess Jacinthe and I have mutually agreed to nullify this contract.” His gaze met mine before he continued, “I… I wish to wed another. The Duke of Espola’s daughter.”

My grandmother nodded. “Good. Then that’s settled.” Her expectant gaze turned to me. “Which leaves you still in need of a husband. And children.”

I took a deep breath, steeling myself to reveal an unpleasant truth.

“There’s something you need to know about me,” I began, my voice trembling. I put my hand on my belly, feeling the scar suddenly throb with phantom pain. “Last summer, I nearly died after I was stabbed with a blade poisoned with a death curse. Because of it, I… I cannot bear children.”

A collective gasp echoed through the chamber.

“No!” My grandmother’s eyes widened in shock, her composure slipping for a moment.

“It’s unfortunately true, Your Imperial Majesty,” Mage Armand interjected softly, his weathered face etched with sorrow. “The damage the curse inflicted has rendered Princess Jacinthe unable to conceive.”

The domina-regent’s face hardened, her eyes flashing with anger and frustration. “This is unacceptable,” she snapped. “Jacinthe, even if you cannot bear children, you must make a good match. The stability of the Dominion depends on it!”

An idea struck me. “What about Lord Ilhan of Parrish?” I suggested, trying to keep the desperation from my voice. “He’s a—a dear friend. And as the son and heir of the Duke of Frankia, an alliance with him would surely help secure your control of the Dominion.”

I held my breath, waiting for my grandmother’s response.

Her eyes narrowed thoughtfully as she considered my suggestion. I held my breath.

“That… might be acceptable. Though the Duke of Frankia is another traitor. Let us think about it.”

I nodded. “Grandmother,” I said, my voice soft but firm, “before you marry me off, I… I beg your permission to return to my studies at the academy.”

My grandmother’s eyebrows rose in surprise. “Return to your studies? But you’ve only just arrived, and there’s so much to be done here.”

I swallowed hard, gathering my courage. “I understand, but I wish to complete my training as a mage-healer before taking up my royal duties.”

As I spoke, I could feel Mage Armand’s approving gaze upon me. His presence gave me strength, reminding me of how far I’d come in my studies. The thought of abandoning that progress now, when I was finally beginning to understand my powers, felt like a physical ache in my chest.

My grandmother’s expression softened slightly. She turned back to Mage Armand, her voice sharp with concern. “Mage Armand, are you absolutely certain that Princess Jacinthe is… is barren? That she will never bear children?”

Armand’s voice was solemn as he replied, “Yes, Your Imperial Highness. I’m sorry.”

My grandmother’s face fell, her shoulders sagging under the weight of her elaborate robes. “Not as sorry as we are. If the imperial line ends with Jacinthe, we haven’t saved the Dominion, only delayed its death throes for a few more years.”

The despair in her voice struck me like a physical blow.

“Mother.” Mama’s voice was gentle. “I have three other daughters from a marriage made during my exile. Talisa, the eldest after Jacinthe, will come of age next year. The twins, Mira and Juno, are—” She paused, frowning. “Nearly fifteen now. All three are currently enrolled as mage-students at the Imperial Academy here in Neapolis Capitola.”

“Three more daughters? The Divine Mother be thanked!” Relief washed over my grandmother’s face, the lines of worry smoothing out.

She turned back to me with a gracious smile. “Very well, Jacinthe. You have our permission to return to your studies. We will arrange your immediate transfer to the Imperial Academy for the Magical Arts. You’ll join your sisters here, in the capital.”

I was momentarily tempted. The Imperial Academy was renowned throughout the Dominion, its prestige unmatched.

But then I thought of Tama, Boreas, Gwydion, and Ilhan. Here in the capital, under the watchful eyes of my grandmother and the imperial court, we would have no privacy, no freedom to be together.

And that was assuming my grandmother would allow them to leave Darkstone Academy at all.

“Thank you, grandmother, for your generous offer. But I respectfully decline. I wish to continue at Darkstone Academy with my friends and complete my studies there.”

A frown of displeasure creased my grandmother’s brow. Her lips thinned. “You actually want to return to that desolate prison island?” she asked in disbelief.

Mama stared at me, too.

I struggled to shape my feelings into a coherent argument to sway them. “But it could be so much more,” I said slowly. “Meeting and befriending the diplomatic hostages there made we wonder if maybe Darkstone Academy could become a place where students—and teachers—from the supernatural nations mingled with human mage-students and mage-instructors.”

Mama and Grandmother Jacinthe now wore identical expressions of wide-eyed surprise.

“What do you mean by ‘mingle’?” my grandmother asked, suspicion lacing her tone.

“During my time at Darkstone Academy, I’ve seen how Wind-Walkers, Fae and Djinni use magic in ways very different from how humans use it. We could learn so much from each other!” I was beginning to see a vision of the academy’s future that excited me. “Instead of treating the island as a place to exile the unwanted, what if we—you—turned it into a haven for scholars and students from all the world? They could share knowledge and work together to develop new spells and ways to help, well, everyone.”

“I think that’s a very interesting idea,” Mama said.

Is that respect in her eyes? I wondered.

She continued, “We’d need the right people to lead the change. Take Adele, Lady Margrave, for example. She’s worked miracles reforming the public hospital system in the Western Isles. It was her idea to outfit ships as fully staffed traveling clinics and send them out to the remotest fishing villages.”

Grandmother Jacinthe nodded. “Hm. Our councilors have been telling us for years that Darkstone Castle is an unnecessary drain on the imperial treasury,” she said. “But if we transform it into an elite center of learning, we could make it pay for itself by charging tuition and developing new and better ways to do things.” She smiled. “Yes, we are beginning to like this proposal of yours, Jacinthe. It has both potential and merit. We shall bring it up with the imperial council.”

“Thank you, Grandmother Jacinthe!” I said, excited by her acceptance of my idea.

Her gaze shifted to Mama, and I felt the tension in the room rise. “Speaking of the imperial council, Jonquil,” she said, her voice crisp, “we hope you will take a seat there. With Duke Cahill of Frankia imprisoned and Duke Beltrán of Norhas dead, the Dominion needs you.”

“Actually, Mother, I have a better idea,” Mama said. “What if I became ambassador to the Dragon Kingdom of Kappadokia, instead?”

“Yes!” exclaimed Menelaus.

My grandmother’s silver brows shot up, and I could almost see the political calculations whirring behind her eyes.

Mama pressed on. “Plus, from there, I could supervise the changes taking place at Darkstone Academy. The island is only a day’s flight on Dragon-back from Hierapolis.”

My heart swelled with hope.

“Mage Armand,” Mama continued, turning to my mentor, “would you be willing to continue serving as Jacinthe’s mentor at Darkstone Academy?”

The old mage’s face softened, a smile crinkling the corners of his eyes. “Your Highness, it would be my honor to continue teaching Princess Jacinthe,” he said gruffly. He added, “I have four very promising apprentices there, and I’ve grown rather fond of living on the island, with its fresh air and mild winters.”

Grandmother Jacinthe’s lips tightened as she considered Mama’s proposal. Finally, she let out a resigned sigh.

“Very well, Jonquil,” she said grumpily, waving a hand adorned with glittering rings. “We’ll appoint you as ambassador to the Dragon Kingdom. If we said no, you’d find an excuse to travel there, anyway.”

“Thank you!” Mama’s face lit up with joy. King Menelaus broke into a triumphant grin.

But my grandmother wasn’t finished. Her gaze turned to me, sharp as a blade. “At least now we have three additional granddaughters to stand in line for the succession,” she remarked acidly. “We’ll be keeping a close eye on Jacinthe’s younger sisters, monitoring their progress. We’ll see which of them proves to be the best candidate for the imperial heir.”

Her words stung, a reminder that in her eyes, I was damaged goods. Yet a part of me felt relieved. Without the pressure to produce heirs, I was free to choose my path.

Instead, my sisters would have opportunities I could never have imagined for them. Still, I couldn’t help but worry about the pressure they would face.

As the audience drew to a close, my grandmother waved Fernan forward. He bowed deeply, his auburn curls catching the light.

“Your Imperial Majesty,” he said, his voice steady despite the nervousness I sensed beneath, “I humbly present my petition to reverse my late father’s attainder and take possession of my family’s estates in the province of Norhas.”

Grandmother Jacinthe’s expression sharpened, her earlier vulnerability vanishing. “And why,” she asked coldly, “should we help a traitor’s son?”

I felt a surge of protectiveness for Fernan. Despite our complicated history, he had proven himself an ally when it mattered most.

“Grandmother,” I interjected, “Duke Fernan aided us in defeating his father. He chose loyalty to the Dominion over his family ties.”

Mama nodded in agreement. “It’s true. Without Duke Fernan’s help, Jacinthe and I wouldn’t have escaped after his father took us captive.”

“So, you trust this traitor’s son?” Grandmother pressed.

“We do,” Mama and I chorused. Mama added, “And Duke Fernan already swore an oath of fealty to me.”

The domina-regent fell silent for a long moment while her hazel eyes scrutinized Fernan.

“Very well,” she said at last. “I will grant your petition, on one condition: pledge your fealty to me as well.”

Fernan promptly fell to his knees before my grandmother and bowed his head.

“Your Imperial Majesty, I, Fernan de Norhas, Count of Lutèce and Duke de Norhas, do humbly pledge my unwavering loyalty to thee. With a heart steadfast and true, I vow to serve thee with all my might and main, honoring thy grace and wisdom as the rightful heir to our imperial throne.”

My grandmother placed her hand on his hair. “Duke Fernan de Norhas, thy words this day have reached mine ears and heart with great solemnity,” she replied, using the same formal phrasing that Mama had when Fernan swore to her. “In accepting thine oath of fealty and pledge of loyalty, we, the domina-regent, do affirm thy place as a true and faithful servant to our imperial throne.”

When Fernan had risen back to his feet, my grandmother looked around. “My dears, is there anything else you wished to discuss before we invite you to join us for the midday meal?”

“Trade concessions to Dolphin Clan of the Southern Sea-People,” I said promptly. “In return for all the help they gave Mama and me when we were stranded on a damaged ship. The Dolphin Clan warriors spent days towing the ship to the port of Baleares.”

“Very well,” Grandmother said. “You can describe what sorts of things this Dolphin Clan trades over our meal.”

I saw Mama’s eyes drift to a second door at the back of the room. “Mother… might I see Father? It’s been so long, and I’d like him to meet Jacinthe.”

The sadness that swept over my grandmother’s face made her look suddenly older, more vulnerable.

“Of course,” she said. “But we must warn you… your father has more bad days than good now. He may not recognize you.”