Page 13

“I didn’t have to. He put away his sword and cast a healing spell on me instead.

I learned that night that the women of my line had aided him in his quests.

That invoked what Hesperines call a bond of gratitude, which must be honored.

When my body proved too damaged by the poison for me to survive as a mortal, he took me back to Orthros.

His comrade Apollon took me under his wing and offered me the Gift. ”

Apollon had always said he had seen some of himself in Troi. He supposed they had both gone too far down the warrior’s path in the past.

“So you stayed in Orthros with them?” Celandine asked.

“For one purpose only: to master my power so I could kill Rixor and his brother. I trained with Rudhira and Apollon until I finally felt prepared to face my enemies.”

“That’s how you came to be in the manor.”

“Yes. Ten years to the day after my mortal life ended, I returned to Cordium to find that my worst fears had come to pass. Rixor I had taken over everything from my father’s lands to my mother’s house.

I burst into his summer feast to tear him apart with my bare hands.

He fled like a coward with his guests while his brother stayed behind to face me, as in the tales.

It was a long, bitter battle. I fought with more anger than strategy, and once again, I found myself on the verge of defeat. ”

“How did you survive?”

“My wounds, bleeding inside my mother’s ancestral home, brought about something I never thought possible. My blood woke the Sanctuary wards, the most rare and powerful of Hespera’s protection spells.”

“Didn’t the Orders hunt down every Sanctuary mage during the Last War over fifteen hundred years ago?” Celandine asked.

“Yes, but the sites where they died are where their magic lives on most powerfully. One of my mother’s ancestors was a Sanctuary mage who sacrificed herself in her own home so her spells would endure to protect her descendants.”

“So it was her magic that barricaded you safely inside.”

“Rixor’s brother stood no chance against her wards. The mage’s fireballs couldn’t break through unless the power of my blood faded and the spells returned to dormancy. So he cast his own spells to prevent me from escaping and left me for his successors to slay.”

“Was your sleep caused by your hunger?”

Troi nodded. He had been trapped inside the ring of fire for nights…

years…starvation clawing at his veins. Burning with thirst and fever, he had slept longer and longer every Dawn Slumber.

Until the day when the sun had banished him to sleep and he hadn’t woken again.

“Then one unspinner did what the mighty Order of Anthros never could and found me through the Sanctuary wards.”

She smiled. “I still wonder if they let me in for your own good.”

“That is entirely possible, Your Highness.”

“You clearly needed someone to stab you awake, slugabed.”

He pulled her mouth to his and kissed her until she melted against him. When he pulled back, she gazed at him with longing in her eyes.

He slipped off his ring and took her hand. “I want you to have this.”

“I couldn’t—”

“Please, Celandine. I have Hesperine power of my own to protect me now. I need to know you’ll be safe.”

She let him slide it onto her ring finger. “Let me think on your offer. When we’re done with Rixor and Kaion, will you ask me again to leave with you?”

She hadn’t said no. That gave Troi more hope than he’d felt in a century. “I’ll ask you as many times as it takes.”

The gongs sounded midnight as Celandine entered the banquet hall on Troi’s arm. She barely heard them. His words, his touches, all ran through her mind, so much more powerful than the feeling of the Gift Collector’s purse in her hand.

The only guarantees she had from Troi were the dreams he’d spun of Orthros in the heat of the moment.

Trusting Rixor had been the greatest mistake she had ever made, and she had paid bitterly every hour of every day since his betrayal.

Could she truly rely on a Taurus prince to be any different from a Pavo one?

Her mind shied away from the thought of what the Gift Collector would do to Troi.

How could she do that to him?

“Celandine.”

Troi’s urgent whisper pulled her from her thoughts. “Yes?”

“Where do we sit?”

She looked up, and the sight of Rixor on her throne felt like a blow to the gut.

He sat there in her place at the high table on the dais, Kaion standing at his elbow.

They laughed together, and Rixor clasped Kaion’s arm, smiling with warmth and affection.

She remembered when her cousin had looked at her like that, but the only undying loyalty he had to anyone now was to Kaion.

The banners of each noble in attendance had been hung behind the chairs where they were to sit. The green and gold of Clementia adorned the two empty seats at Rixor’s table.

“We made too much of an impression,” she hissed. “How will you veil yourself and ambush him right under his nose?”

“No, this is perfect. You kept your promise to get me close.”

Troi seated her gallantly, and she found herself next to Kaion, with Troi and Rixor on her other side. The hairs on her arms stood up. If she and Troi survived this, she would have the best view in the house when he spilled their enemies’ blood on the pretty table linens.

Just as the last of the guests found their seats, seven hooded figures filed into the banquet hall and took positions around the perimeter of the room. The blue flame emblazoned on their white robes made Celandine’s belly drop. That emblem was burned into her mind from the long hours of her trial.

The doors of the banquet hall shut with a mighty thud, and she started in her seat. Rixor’s guards blocked the exit.

Kaion had brought in the Inquisitors, and she and Troi were locked inside with them.