Page 9 of Bartered by the Shadow Prince (Bargain with the Shadow Prince #3)

Harvest of the Heart

ELOISE

“ I just think it’s wasteful.” Nevina taps the table with her long pink fingernail next to a diagram of a proposed offering to the goddess Thanesia.

The gasps her words elicit from the other three royals gathered in her sitting room to plan the Harvest Festival make it clear that she’s in the minority.

So far, I’ve remained silent as the group presented their plans to the queen.

The truth is, I know nothing about the history of this festival and am the last person who should be putting in my two cents.

I’ve been here barely twenty-four hours.

Besides, I’m feeling awkward shoved into Nevina’s old yellow gown.

Not only is the color garish on me, but my boobs are barely contained within the bodice, and I can scarcely breathe.

Beside me, the Lady of Aendor, Tempest, seems absolutely beside herself.

The sophisticated brunette, wearing a bright-red dress the color of the sand in her coastal territory, places a hand over her heart.

“The sacrifice to Thanesia during Harvest Festival has occurred every one hundred years since Stygarde’s formation. You can’t eliminate it.”

Nevina sniffs. “But we are New Stygarde. Our decisions today set the standard for what will happen in the future. Don’t you think killing a stag, only to leave the blood and meat to rot on a platform with the rest of these fruits and vegetables, seems out of touch when there are citizens in the west villages going hungry? ”

Eudora, Lady of the Zephrine region that includes a multitude of villages to the west of the capitol region, certainly looks as if she’s starving.

The bones of her gaunt features stand out even more under her pale skin and limp blond hair as she says, “Please, my queen, there would be plenty of food for the villages if the hunting restrictions?—”

“This is not the time or place for negotiations, Eudora,” the queen says with a snort and a shake of her head.

A prickle runs through me at the look that passes between them.

Nevina has completely shut her down, without even hearing what she has to say.

“You and the other ladies of New Stygarde are here to plan a successful Harvest Festival. That is all.”

My gaze slides to Odette, the Lady of the Borderlands, whose territory stretches from just north of the capitol to the center of the dark forest. Much of the grain and fruit that will be used in this festival come from her region. I assume she’ll have an opinion on the matter.

“It is an important part of shade history, my queen,” she says in a deep rumble of a voice.

I don’t miss the way her coffee-colored eyes dart to her hands, her mahogany fingers tipped in harvest red.

She’s afraid of Nevina, pure and simple.

All these women are. It’s subtle. Clearly, everyone here is trying to act like we’re having a discussion—merely coming to an agreement on the details—but my intuition is telling me there are three mice at a table having a discussion with a cat. “A stag is the customary choice.”

Nevina gives a belabored sigh. “Back to what is customary again. Why can’t we make a new custom? Maybe a carving of a sacrifice that can be used again and again.”

The other women gasp at the mere thought.

“Eloise, as a neutral third party, what do you think?” Nevina turns to me with an exasperated expression, as if she is not the one completely in control of the conversation. She wants me, as her new friend and the beneficiary of her hospitality, to back her up.

Crap. I’m tempted to make some excuse about why I can’t pitch in my opinion, but unfortunately, my new vampire temper won’t allow me the out.

It’s the neutral third-party comment. It grates on me.

First of all, it’s three against one. Three royals with the most experience regarding the festival are telling her that the sacrifice is necessary, and she’s not listening.

Worse, she’s trying to bully them into compliance.

And second, am I truly a neutral party when my mate was once a prince of this kingdom and mentioned that the Harvest Festival was his favorite time of year?

I don’t want to be the Grinch who stole shade Christmas.

Besides, putting me on the spot like this is wrong.

She needs no help from me. All she has to do is order her way to be done, and so shall it be.

But I sense she doesn’t want to be the bad guy.

Or the only bad guy. Well, if she thinks I’m the girl to take the fall for her, she’s barking up the wrong tree.

At the moment, Nevina is sounding a hell of a lot like Valeska, and I want no part of that kind of leadership.

“Of course,” I respond, turning my full attention toward Lady Aendor. “Tempest, can you tell me more about the history of the Harvest Festival and the sacrifice? I’m new to the kingdom and not familiar with it.”

Tempest smiles when she sees Nevina’s scowl. As I guessed, the queen has worked hard not to understand this tradition.

“Thanesia is the patron goddess of Tenebris. Shades believe that she formed Tenebris from the Darklands themselves and that she guards the gate between the living and the dead. She made this world for her favored creations, creatures who thrived at night. Creatures like shades. Every one hundred years, we offer her and her three nochthunds the sacrifice of meat and blood from an unblemished red stag along with our finest fruits and grains during a festival marked by feasting and dancing. In exchange, she blesses the fertility of our mates and the abundance of our fields and our prey. This way of worship has gone on for centuries. To eliminate it would be both heartbreaking and terrifying to the citizens of Stygarde.”

I nod. “I see.”

Eudora doesn’t miss the opportunity to speak her mind. “It’s a day for all citizens of Stygarde to come together. A reminder that we are all cut from the same cloth, made by the same maker. Our accomplishments belong to all of us. Our hardships are the responsibility of all of us.”

Odette lays a hand on her heart. “I remember attending as a child. I don’t think I can stress enough the importance of this sacrifice to the community.

Even in times of war, we never missed a festival.

And in times of change, things like this give people hope and stability.

It shows that the palace understands the needs of the common shade. ”

Nevina is fuming. Her cheeks are stained red, and her blue gaze is hard as ice.

Although she’s waiting patiently for my response, I can tell that she’d love for an excuse to end this discussion right here.

Hmm. Yesterday, she made it sound like the people of Stygarde hadn’t accepted her, but what I’m hearing is she hasn’t done her due diligence learning about her new people and their traditions.

And as much as I don’t want to piss her off my first day here, I can’t let this one slide.

“Wow, I was unaware of the importance of this festival to the people of New Stygarde. Now that I’ve heard your thoughts, I have to agree with you.

The sacrifice and harvest festivities must take place.

” Nevina opens her mouth, and I add quickly, “Of course, if the queen is concerned about waste, perhaps the sacrifice could be donated to the villages after a reasonable amount of time has passed.” Eudora’s eyes sparkle with unshed tears.

“If the stag is butchered at midday, surely it would still be edible after the festivities have ended.”

Eudora nods. “The people in the west villages have no problem eating meat days after butchering. We will happily make full use of it.”

I spread my hands. “It seems like a perfect compromise, if Her Highness agrees?” I paint an innocent smile on my face and turn to Nevina, who is as pink as her dress and as flustered as a bird caught in a snare.

“Yes, I suppose that will be adequate,” she mumbles. “I’ll expect a full breakdown of costs and materials needed. We’ll require labor from your territories to arrange everything. New Stygarde cannot manage any manpower.”

“Of course,” Eudora says. “We’ll handle everything.”

“Aendor can provide musicians,” Tempest says. “We have the finest in Tenebris.”

Odette laughs. “I’ll let that one go. The Borderlands will provide the place settings as we have in the past.” She looks to me. “Our blacksmiths produce the finest cutlery and our potters the most delicate but enduring dishes and glassware.”

“I can’t wait to see it in person,” I say.

The queen stands, lifts her chin, and stares down her nose at all of us. “Very well,” she says through her teeth. “We will meet next week to finalize the details.”

“But we need your approval to use the courtyard today. The festival is in four weeks. Invitations must go out soon.”

Nevina’s lips draw back from her teeth in a smile edged with a cruelty that reminds me far too much of Valeska’s. She’s going to refuse them. She’s going to make it as difficult as possible for this event to successfully take place.

“If we’re sending invitations,” I say quickly, “we should definitely incorporate the queen and the royal crest into them. People must be aware that this festival is completely the result of the generosity of our new queen.”

“Oh yes,” Odette says, fawning over Nevina. “Our beloved queen.”

“Most certainly!” adds Eudora.

“I can have the design ready for your approval tomorrow!” Tempest says.

The fire is back in Nevina’s cheeks, but her eyes are cold as ice as she says, “I will review the design tomorrow, and if it appropriately represents New Stygarde, you may use the courtyard.”

The women around me breathe a sigh of relief.

“Thank you, my queen. I will get started right away.” Tempest stands and gathers her things.

The others beat feet out the door. I’m about to follow after them when the queen grabs my arm, her nails digging in.

“I thought we were friends, Eloise,” she mutters under her breath.

Ice flows through my veins as I move my gaze from hers to the place her grip pierces my flesh. “Are you saying we aren’t friends anymore, Nevina?” I ask innocently.

“I don’t appreciate being manipulated.”

“Oh, I don’t think anyone could manipulate you. You’re too formidable for that.”

Her teeth grit. She releases my arm. Our eyes catch and hold, and hers are so cold they give me a chill. I curtsy, then turn slowly and leave the room.

I’m halfway down the hall when Tempest pops out of an alcove and cuts me off with a raise of her hand. I take a quick look over my shoulder to make sure the queen isn’t behind me. “It’s true. It’s really true,” she whispers.

“What’s true?”

“Damien has returned. You are his mate!”

Nevina only introduced me as her friend Eloise. There was no mention of Damien in our meeting. “How did you know?”

“I can smell him on you, dear. And the way you stood up to the queen? I can understand why he chose you.”

“Then, yes, he has returned, and I am his mate. As for standing up to the queen, I wouldn’t say that’s what happened. I simply helped her understand the importance of the festival.”

“Right.” Tempest tucks her chin and sends me a pronounced wink. She raises a hand. “Festival aside, I wonder, can you tell me if my son returned with Damien?”

I shake my head. “I’m sorry? Who is your son?”

Her eyes widen like she’s shocked I don’t know. “Morpheus Maxilla. He went missing at the same time as Damien. I…I thought, perhaps.” She clutches her chest, her eyes growing misty.

“He’s alive,” I say quickly. “On my planet.”

“On your…”

“I’m from Earth, another planet. Damien, Morpheus and Cassius were captured and brought there by a coven of witches. Damien and I were able to return using similar magic, but Morpheus and Cassius chose to stay.”

Her brows knit. “Chose to stay? That can’t be right.”

“Your son is extremely powerful where I come from. He’s built an empire. He couldn’t leave it.”

I can see she’s happy he’s alive and utterly confused why he wouldn’t come home. The truth is, I never offered to bring him here, but his participation in a triune means his leaving would be almost impossible. I’ve embellished the truth in an effort to give her some closure.

She seems to let that sink in and then nods slowly. “Are you able to send a message for me?”

Her voice is pitifully soft. She’s heartbroken. God damn it. “I’m sorry. I can’t. The path we took to return only worked one way.” Without my magic, that’s the only answer I can give.

Tempest takes a deep, fortifying breath and then draws her shoulders down from her ears as she straightens to her full height. “In any case, you were extremely helpful today. I’m so happy to make your acquaintance. Will you and Damien join us in Aendor for dinner sometime soon?”

“I’ll relay the invitation to Damien the moment I see him.”

She shifts uncomfortably. “Is he available? Might I speak with him?”

“He’s working in the stables. You might catch him if you go down that way.”

“The stables,” she hisses as if she finds the idea offensive.

I can’t say I didn’t have a similar reaction. “That is the position the king offered his brother,” I say flatly.

She bows at the waist. “A true pleasure to meet you, Eloise. If you’ll excuse me, I must be going, but I hope you and your mate will take us up on that offer of dinner.”

We say our goodbyes, and then she’s gone.