Page 13 of Golden Queen (Idrigard #1)

A fine silvery chain poured out to loop around and around itself in my hand.

At the end, lay a delicate human heart shaped cage made of braided silver wire.

A tiny golden crown had been formed around the top so that the entire pendant was a crowned heart; Danu's symbol—the symbol of the Morrigan—the Queen of the Gods.

Inside the cage, lay a pale, white elderwood seed.

"What does this mean?" I asked Adrio, my voice shaking.

"The old shadows are rising, Aelia of Windemere. The realm needs guardians again. The Elderwood has named you to carry the seed. To protect it as you protect your own life, so that when even the last of the horse lords are ashes in the wind, there will always be hope."

The words echoed inside my head, sounding like some portent of doom and destruction.

The king of the horse lords carried the elderwood seed so that no matter what happened to the sentient forest, there would always be a chance to revive what they considered the source of all magic and life in the world.

Naming me as an elderguard seemed like the most illogical, preposterous thing anyone could ever do.

"Why me?" I asked. "I'm—" The words that wanted to come from my throat burned me with the shame of admission.

"I am not yet even a queen. When I marry and take my throne, I will still have very little power. Surely there’s another who would be more worthy to carry the seed.

" I was little more than the vessel that carried the Lithaway blood.

No one ever expected me to have real power, least of all me.

"Power does not come from a throne, a crown, or a group of bickering old men. Power comes from within, and the Elderwood has found you worthy."

"How does the forest even know I exist? I’ve never even set foot outside the godsgrass." It was another admission that shamed me. I knew so little of the world outside of the books I’d read.

"You cannot see them, but the roots of the elderwood grow across the world.

" He moved his hand in a slow arc to encompass everything around us.

"They speak to the roots of the oak tree: will the squirrel in your branches survive the winter?

They speak to the purple grasses of Darkwatch: are the masters in the Citadel learning still?

And they speak to the godsgrass: is Aelia of Windemere a worthy guardian?

If you have the heart to listen, even you can hear as the godsgrass answers, saying, Aelia, Aelia, savior. "

"Savior?" I asked, horrified at the notion.

Adrio chuckled and laid a hand on my arm. "Do not be afraid, star child. The world has many paths it may follow. Not all of them end in ashes."

I couldn’t shake the feeling of dread all through the meeting with the Artaxians.

And it had nothing to do with the poorly concealed hostility from my uncle as Adrio and I rejoined the others.

The words seemed to fundamentally upend all my security and comfort, and I could not seem to regain it as I rode Etreyiu back to the city with that little gods-blasted elderwood seed bouncing beneath the bodice of my gown.

The Artaxians would not accept my invitation to come into the city. Adrio and his warriors mounted their horses, and with a flourish of their plumes and a drum beat sounding from fists striking their armored chests, they rode away, chanting "Aelia! Aelia! Savior!"

I wanted to weep from the horrible, sinking feeling Adrio's words put in the pit of my stomach.

I should discount them all. They sounded strikingly like prophecy.

And I knew that prophecies were open to the flawed interpretations of man.

They were fickle and tenuous things, anything but set in stone.

I had never been the subject of any sort of prophecy or divination, and I didn't like it. Especially when the words were so ominously heavy.

When the sun is stolen by the shadows that creep across the world? Savior? Guardian? Of the entire fucking world? It was ludicrous, really. What could I possibly do to save the world? How could I ever be the last one standing when some dread power had turned even the horse lords to ash?

I resented Adrio for coming to Albiyn, for ruining my peace with what felt like total bullshit.

And it had to be bullshit! There was no way the Elderwood had asked him to give a message to a princess in the middle of Windemere who had never even seen an elderwood tree.

The farthest I had ever been from Albiyn was the flight across the godsgrass on Etreyiu's back.

Deciding that it was all bullshit gave me some measure of comfort, but that peace was tenuous. The dread came back to me throughout the day when I would move, and that bone-white seed would rattle faintly in its heart-shaped cage.

The only thing that saved me during the ensuing series of meals and misadventures with the suitors—those dull, empty-headed men—were thoughts of him. Dark eyes dancing with amusement, that laugh that felt like music to my soul, and his rich, deep voice when I recalled the way he'd said my name.

He had the ability to banish thoughts of my upcoming betrothal and the meeting with the Artaxians entirely from my mind, and I wanted to forget all of it except for my wonderful Etreyiu.

I was worried the horse would be sad or lonely being left behind in a city when he had been roaming the Artaxian Plains his entire life. The intelligence in his eyes was far beyond that of even most people I met. I felt guilty for ripping him away from his family, his home, and his life.

But the great big stallion had immediately become enamored with the mares in the barn. I left him, dancing in a circle in his stall, calling to them over the rails. The stable boys promised me he would be allowed to run with them in the castle paddock every day.

Dinner was a droll affair. Arkadian was pointedly absent, and all anyone could talk about was the visit from the Artaxians.

I answered their questions, giving them exactly the platitudes and well-wishes they would expect from the horse lords.

Thankfully, no one knew about the elderwood seed or what the message had truly contained.

I would keep Adrio's words to myself, and perhaps I might even take them to my grave.

When the ache of your empty arms grows too heavy to bear. What did that even mean? That I would be alone forever, never finding love, never having anyone in my arms? Or worse, did it mean I would find love and lose it?

Either way, it didn't bode well for a future that was already certain to be devoid of the kind of love and adventure I had always dreamed about.

After dinner, Petta caught up with me in the hall. She pulled me aside into a small sitting room.

"I heard what happened," she said excitedly when the door was closed behind us.

"Oh, I think everyone knows by now."

"They do?" she asked, her pretty brows furrowing.

"Well, yes. It was all anyone could talk about at dinner."

Petta's eyes registered shock, but then realization dawned in me just before it did in her. "Oh, you mean...the other thing," I said, stupidly.

"Of course! Was he really as gorgeous as Anetta said? Did you...?" Her voice grew lower, and her smile grew sly. "...and he?" she finished, raising and lowering her eyebrows suggestively.

"Petta!" I admonished, though a laugh escaped my throat without warning. "No!" I added, quickly. "I dug a shard of mellitrium from his chest, and then he left. That's all."

She looked extremely disappointed as she said, "Oh, well I knew about that part, but I assumed you had...you know...since he has already come back to the Mouse's Ear looking for you."

"He did?" I asked, surprised and absolutely delighted. "When?"

Petta reached into her pocket and handed me a note. "Anetta's messenger brought this to the townhouse this morning."

I unfolded it and read the hastily scrawled message: Sera, I want to see you. Same place, midnight. Io.

I crumpled the paper in my hand as I considered the words. I already felt breathless anticipation building in me. I want to see you. Why did those simple words sound so very...wicked? Was it only because I was certain he thought I was a courtesan? Was he looking to employ me?

That thought sent heat rushing up from low in my belly to bloom in my cheeks. I wanted that. Not the employment part, not being paid, but being with him.

I had spent enough time contemplating the idea of finding someone—someone with whom to lose my virginity so that I did not go into a cold and passionless marriage never knowing what it felt like to choose someone—someone I wanted.

"You're blushing, Aelia."

I looked up sharply. Petta was smiling at me knowingly, her grin just as wicked as the thoughts swirling in my head. "I am not blushing!" I had to fight hard not to smile at the very blatant denial of the obvious.

"Oh Aelia, do it! For yourself. It might very well be your last chance."

I didn't answer her right away. When I met her eyes, she smiled wider, knowing she had won.

"So, eleven thirty?" she asked.

"Or now." I let the smile spread across my face then. I couldn't help it. He wanted to see me.

Petta squealed with delight.