Page 14 of A Storm in Every Heart (Enchanted Legacies #2)

ODESSA, PRESENT

I t takes two days for the emissary to arrive from Hydratta

It’s evening, and the garden buzzes with laughter and conversation.

The weather is nice, so we opted for dinner in the garden.

Almost the entire inner circle is gathered around the large dining on the patio, three quarters of the way through a delicious supper.

The only person missing is Alix, who traveled back to the human realm this morning to visit her mother.

Daemon sits at the head of the table, his posture rigid, and I can tell he won’t relax until Alix returns home.

“That’s nothing,” Jett says loudly, grinning at Aurelia. “Did I ever tell you about how I robbed the richest merchant in Solistine?”

“Yes,” Fox grumbles. “Many times.”

“I wasn’t talking to you, was I?” Jett quips.

Aurelia giggles. “What happened?”

Jett sits up straighter, spreading his arms wide like an actor performing one of the great tragedies. “It was a dark and stormy night.”

“Shut up,” Daemon grins and tosses a bread roll at Jett’s head.

Jett catches the roll and takes an enormous bite out of it before fixing Daemon with an exaggerated glare. “It was . Have you ever experienced a rainy season in Solistine? Every night is dark and stormy.”

Daemon rolls his eyes. “I’m sure.”

Jett carries on as if there were no interruption.

“The merchant was throwing an enormous party for all the wealthiest families in the city. He’d been talking for weeks about how this renowned sorcerer would be there to entertain the guests with tricks.

I figured I’d have to find this sorcerer and convince him to make me disappear once I’d gotten in and robbed the place. ”

“And did you?” Aurelia prompts.

“Well, of course,” Jett continues with a dramatic flourish. “But as it turned out, the man was a fraud. He didn’t have any more magical ability than I do, and he certainly wasn’t very strong.”

“Why do you say that?” Kastian asks, frowning.

“Because he was so easy to capture. I tied him up, took his robes, and went to the party in his place. The merchant’s house was just as grand as he’d bragged; art and gold everywhere, jewels on all the lamps and candlesticks.

The robes were so large no one noticed all the things I shoved into the pockets. ”

Aurelia laughs. “Did you have to perform for the guests?”

“Only for a few minutes. Once the merchant realized I had no idea what I was doing, he kicked me out of the house himself. It was the easiest escape I ever made.”

Everyone roars with laughter, and even Fox cracks a smile.

I stand halfway out of my chair and lean over Fox to reach for the platter of vegetables. Across the table, Kastian makes a disgruntled noise in the back of his throat. I glance at him, confused. “Can I help you, Your Majesty? ”

His eyes flick up to mine, and he shakes his head once, his jaw tensing.

“Excuse me,” a high-pitched voice breaks through the happy chatter around the table.

I retake my seat and twist around. In the doorway to the kitchen, a tiny pixie woman stands wringing her hands in her skirt. I smile widely. “Hello, Shar.”

Shar smiles back at me, her rows of tiny sharp teeth glinting in the flickering candlelight. “Good evening, Lady Odessa.”

I roll my eyes. Shar and I have known each other for years.

She was once a servant at King Thorne’s summer palace, where I was a lady-in-waiting to the king’s various brides.

Early in our acquaintance, I had to remind Shar often that I’m not really a lady.

My father wasn’t noble, and my aunt only became so after her marriage to the 11th Baron Ashwater, so no one had to address me by title.

Eventually she’d grown used to using my name alone, but it seems that since Daemon took the throne any casual greetings have flown out the window.

“I know I can’t convince you to sit with us,” I say in a rueful tone, “so was there something you needed?”

Shar nods. “I’m sorry to interrupt your meal, but a visitor has arrived.”

Around the table, everyone tenses.

“From where?” Daemon demands.

“Hydratta, Your Majesty.”

“Fuck.” Daemon gets to his feet. “I knew we should have stayed alert, but I thought we’d have at least another day before he arrived.”

“This is better,” Kastian says calmly. “Arriving while we’re in the middle of a meal gives the impression that we didn’t know the emissary would be coming.”

“I wish Alix were here,” Daemon mutters, running a hand through his hair. “Alright, fine. Fox and Jett come with me. Aurelia?—”

“I’m already going,” Aurelia says, her chair scraping against the floor as she stands. “I’ll be up in the tower.”

“Good,” Daemon nods. “Dess?—”

“I’m going with you,” I say indignantly. “You can’t keep me out. There’s absolutely no reason I shouldn’t be in a meeting that’s about me, and since Alix isn’t here, she’ll want?—”

“Calm down,” Daemon puts a hand up to stop me. “I was going to say you should come with us, but fuck, if you’re going to bite my head off…”

“Oh.” The back of my neck heats. “Yes, well…I agree. I’m just going to change first.”

Kastian glances at me, then turns to Daemon. “I’m coming too.”

Immediately the table erupts in protests.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea, mate,” Jett says.

“That’s fucking stupid,” Fox grumbles.

Aurelia glowers. “If I have to hide, then you certainly should?—”

“Enough!” Kastian barks, his eyes still locked on Daemon. “I’m not asking your permission, Daemon. This isn’t a request.”

Rather than rising to challenge him back, Daemon just cocks his head in amusement. “Fine. After you then, Your Majesty .”

“Don’t call me that,” Kastian snaps.

Daemon keeps grinning. “Well, if you’re not asking permission, then what would you like to be called, my liege ?”

Kastian says something venomous back, but I don’t catch it as I’m already halfway out of the room.

T wenty minutes later, we gather in the sitting room off the entrance hall.

I’m slightly out of breath, having sprinted up three flights of stairs to my room.

As a child, I deliberately chose the most secluded bedroom, farthest from my family and the servants.

I regret that now because it’s such a chore to climb all the way to my room and fight my way through my messy wardrobe all because I wished to look more presentable.

I wish I hadn’t bothered. I’m afraid I’m going to burst through the seams of my silk gown from all my heavy breathing.

The manor doesn’t have anything resembling the grand throne room at the winter palace, but since Daemon and Alix don’t keep every noble in the kingdom close by, they hardly need one.

Except in moments like this.

As I step into the cozy sitting room, I find myself wishing we were standing at the front of a long, imposing room where the emissary would have to walk toward us past hundreds of judgmental courtiers. If only for the spectacle.

Daemon settles into a high-backed blue and gold armchair. An identical chair stands empty beside him where Alix would usually sit. The rest of the furniture has been rearranged, so the rest of us are forced to stand gathered around the makeshift thrones.

I take my place behind Alix’s empty chair, fighting the temptation to rest my elbows on its back.

Jett and Fox position themselves on either side of the two armchairs.

Fox, as usual, is in his blue military jacket.

Jett now wears a similar jacket that seems hastily borrowed and slightly tight around the shoulders.

Finally, Kastian comes and stands beside me—for once, I don’t say anything about it.

Although I’d rather he kept his distance, I’m not an idiot.

This little tableau is as much about projecting power and unity as anything else.

Outside in the hall, the front door opens, and we hear one of the servants greeting the visitor.

“Fox,” Daemon mumbles under his breath.

Without a word, Fox crosses the room and exits into the hall to escort the emissary. We listen in tense silence as a male voice greets Fox. As usual, Fox makes no reply.

“You could have sent anyone else,” I mutter.

“No, anyone else would have made the emissary think he’s welcome here. He’s not,” Daemon hisses back.

Fox reenters the room, guiding a short, plump man in his wake. The man’s balding head glistens under the light, accentuating his unattractive features. His skin carries a slightly grayish hue, and his overlarge ears are pointed and sharp.

I squint, attempting to figure out his species.

Ellender is primarily inhabited by Fae, but other beings and hybrids are relatively common—I’m a perfect example of that.

If I had to make a guess, I would say the emissary is part-Fae, but the other part is unclear.

I’m tempted to guess “troll,” though it seems impolite, even in my own head.

“Your Majesty,” the troll-like man says, falling into a deep bow. “It’s an honor to meet you.”

Daemon gives a grunt of acknowledgement and shifts in his seat, obviously uncomfortable.

The emissary looks up and, seeming to decide that Daemon is not going to bid him to stand, straightens once more. “My name is Elio,” he says in a nasally, overly accommodating tone. “I’ve come on behalf of King Magnus of Hydratta.”

Beside me, Kastian stiffens. I resist the urge to reach out and grasp his fingers. What the hell am I thinking?

“We received the king’s letters,” Daemon says, “but I don’t recall agreeing to a meeting.”

“Forgive me, Your Majesty,” Elio says. “Of course I can’t speak to your private correspondence with my king, but I was under the impression that he wanted to ensure you received his message.”

“I’ll fucking bet he did,” Kastian grumbles under his breath.

Elio’s eyes dart upward and land on Kastian for the first time. I detect a tiny flinch of surprise from the emissary, but he doesn’t say anything to acknowledge it.

“What does King Magnus want?” Daemon asks, his tone dripping with barely controlled contempt.

“The king is looking to forge an alliance…preferably an unbreakable one.” Elio’s eyes flick to me. “I assume, as Lady Odessa is attending this meeting, you’re aware of the proposed union?”

I can’t tell what the emissary thinks of the request—whether he’s surprised to see me in the room or not, or even if he cares either way. Perhaps he’s just a messenger, but I doubt it.

Emissaries are usually trusted friends or even family members of the ruler and are able to negotiate on the court’s behalf. It’s unlikely that Elio would be truly unaware of what his king is intending.

“We’re aware,” Daemon says flatly.

Elio’s dark eyes widen. “And have you had the opportunity to consider the matter?”

“It’s not fucking happening,” Kastian growls.

Daemon smiles. “That about sums it up.”

Elio clears his throat uncomfortably. “I understand this might seem like a sudden request, but if Your Majesty had been willing to meet with my king, I think you’d see that the alliance could be highly beneficial for all parties.”

“How so?” I blurt out.

Elio looks up at me, but his reply seems more directed at Daemon. “Increased military support, expanded trade routes, assistance in rebuilding your capital and access to?—”

Daemon cuts him off. “We don’t need or want any of that.”

My brow furrows. I realize that Daemon believes he’s protecting me, but perhaps he spoke too soon. All of those things would be extremely beneficial to Vernallis, especially in the short term as we’re rebuilding from the curse.

What we really need isn’t a betrothal, it’s an emissary of our own—someone who could negotiate for these things outright. Someone who could find out what Hydratta truly wants out of this alliance and why.

Seeming to be thinking the same thing, Elio speaks up again. “If Your Majesty would be willing to at least send Lady Odessa to meet with my king, perhaps a representative could accompany her and discuss all the benefits to both kingdoms in more detail.”

“What part of it’s not fucking happening didn’t you understand?” Kastian barks.

Elio focuses only on Daemon. “Your Majesty, if you would just consider?—”

“It’s not my decision to consider,” Daemon snaps. “But Odessa would never?—”

“I’ll do it,” I blurt out, the words escaping my lips before I’ve fully processed the weight of the decision.

A charged silence echoes in the room. Beside me, Kastian goes rigid, as if struck by a sudden, electric jolt. I catch a glimpse of him whipping his head toward me, and the intensity of his shocked and furious gaze pierces into the side of my face like daggers, searing with an almost palpable heat.

“You’ll what?” Daemon says, eyes narrowing on me.

I swallow thickly, my mind racing.

We need to find out what Hydratta wants and we can’t just go crashing into their court demanding answers, but perhaps a diplomatic visit would be the perfect time to gather information.

Moreover, if something went terribly wrong, I wouldn’t be on my own. Hydratta is mostly an island, and where there’s water, assistance is never far away…

“I’ll do it,” I repeat, forcing my tone to remain even. “I’ll at least go meet with King Magnus.”

Elio’s ugly face bursts into a wide smile that stretches his features to near breaking. He claps his hands together in delight. “Oh, that’s wonderful. In that case we should discuss when you’ll travel to Hydratta and perhaps who will be included in the entourage.”

Daemon, completely ignoring Elio, swings around in his chair to look at me. “Dessa, are you sure? What?—”

“I’m sure. Excuse me, I’m going to go upstairs and prepare.”

Before anyone can stop me, I step out from behind Alix’s empty chair and march across the room toward the door. The weight of every eye in the room pierces my back, but none more searing than Kastian’s furious gaze, which feels like molten fire scorching into my very soul.