Page 57 of Keeper of the Word (The Unsung and the Wolf Duology #2)

Chapter

Fifty-Two

ELANNA

T wo days later, Elanna’s powers had not returned. Nor had Tara’s. The night sky was as silent as a graveyard.

A new ravenmaster had been brought to the castle, and they sent a message to Ashwin.

No reply had returned as of yet. Nor anything from Tolvar.

The only news had come from Greenwood stating that Anscom overpowered his forces, and he begged for the sovereign to send reinforcements.

King Rian had sent a commander and a garrison of two score men.

Elanna had a strange feeling as she’d observed them march out of Castle Sidra.

Strange feelings—her exasperation with being obstructed from her Seer powers nearly drove her mad.

Casta. Kyrie. Maristel. They could not feel her, but she practiced the habit, nevertheless. She reminded herself that they were safe in Ashwin.

Hux had put himself to work as if lives depended on it, which they did, especially for Aven.

So far, he’d discovered nothing new and nothing helpful.

The whole of the castle seemed to be on edge.

Servants fled from him; the council members seemed to be taking extra precautions in meeting behind closed and guarded doors.

The Warins had all but doubled their shifts.

Wenonah had been kept to the south wing of the castle, only leaving once to stroll in the queen’s garden with Dashiell, who’d stiffly walked beside her with freshly washed, damp hair and a crisp tunic and hose.

It seemed the prince had conceded, after all.

Elanna rolled the Edan Stone between her palms until its coldness made her return it to its new hiding place.

She had moved the stone from its former hiding place to between her mattresses, unsure if ’twas paranoia of being watched that drove her to do so.

With no identity of who worked against the royal family and no audience with the sovereign—King Rian had declined all three of her requests—Elanna knew all she could do was wait to regain her powers and connect with the stars once more.

And now ’twas time for a royal wedding.

Elanna was dressed carefully by three ladies-in-waiting.

A heavy gown of cloth-of-gold had been chosen for her.

The stiff gown was excruciatingly confining.

She could scarcely breathe, let alone move.

At least she’d been allowed to keep her hair loose at her waist. She did not need a headache in addition to a sore back.

Tara—pale still—entered her room wearing a dress identical to hers. She tugged at her unforgiving sleeves. “I shall ne’er long to be at court again.”

Elanna barely glanced at her. “There will not be a court, Tara.”

The first StarSeer sobered and stood next to Elanna, both gazing out the window at dusk’s light. “Where is the stone?”

Elanna nodded to her hiding place.

“Place it in your pocket.”

“Why?” Elanna asked, focusing on Tara.

“I—I know not.” There was a little color back in Tara’s cheeks. “But I think you should.”

Elanna had just placed the moonstone in her pocket when a knock sounded at the door. Joss entered with a message.

“This came for Lady Tara,” Joss said, bowing and handing her the note.

“The sovereign has requested an audience.” Tara brightened. “In the Crown Hall.”

Elanna nodded. They’d been expecting this. King Rian would want one last audience with them before the wedding, so that the StarSeers could give their blessing before Lord Ulara, his council, and other noted guests.

“What do we do?” Elanna asked. “Can we give our blessing when we know the prince is being forced into this match? When we know that Aven is being held—that she may already be dead?”

Tara had no simple answer. “And if Dashiell does not go through with this marriage, how will the Capella Realm e’er see him crowned sovereign? How will he combat any foes at court? His best chance is to marry so he may gain some authority.”

Elanna sought to roll her shoulders, but her gown constricted her.

How she desperately desired to dip into her starlit well and ladle up her visions on the Dasei Moors.

All she could draw up were vague visions—the dungeon, green fields turning red, and a chaotic darkness—the sort that was all-consuming forever and ever and ever; she could not draw up many other details.

She needed to See! The frustration felt like the fermentation of rot in her nose. She could not escape, and she could replace it with naught else.

Tara continued. “And mayhap our presence will quell any actions that would be taken against the sovereign. If we are aligned, there can be little chance to go against the sovereign.”

Elanna wanted to believe Tara’s words, but as they entered the familiar Crown Hall, she clasped onto the Edan Stone until she could hold it no longer.

The Crown Hall had been decorated for this occasion.

The side walls—even where there was a side door—had been covered entirely by tapestries depicting a number of sovereigns on their wedding days.

Those nearest the double doors through which the two entered were brightly colored and fresh-looking, with Rian and Ferika’s wedding most vivid.

Toward the other end of the hall, where the sovereign sat on the dais with his queen to his right and the prince to his left, the tapestries were faded and indistinct.

Lining the perimeter were the eleven Warins and a few knights of the queensguard.

Daved gave a curt nod to Elanna. The eight council members and the chancellor sat directly behind the sovereign.

To the right of the hall sat Lord Ulara, Lady Wenonah, and a small entourage.

To the left were a dozen well-dressed earls and barons from Lenfore and Grenden.

The steward announced them. “Ladies Tara the First and Elanna the Fourth, StarSeers and stewardesses of all the Capella Realm. We are blessed by their presence and bid them welcome.”

The whole of the hall stood and bowed to them; even King Rian stood and inclined his head with solemnity.

“Come forth,” King Rian said, continuing to stand, as did everyone else in the hall.

As they walked the dais, Elanna itched to brush the beads of sweat that had formed on her collarbone. Her palms, too, were heated. The number of bodies crammed tight warmed the hall.

“Our beloved StarSeers,” King Rian began, his voice rich and formal.

Could Elanna beg King Rian one last time on the prince’s behalf? Here? In the Crown Hall? Glancing at Dashiell, he appeared dazed and defeated.

Or make accusations of an unknown conspirator?

“Since the seal of Asalle, the Capella Realm has been graced by the Light and protection of the stars and of the Five who keep them. ’Tis through the StarSeers and their Sight that the House of Sidra hath ruled this empire for over a millennium…”

Elanna’s cheeks flushed. Her arms started to tingle. A few others in the hall shifted as well.

“…and so, as to continue the sacred tie between the twin kingdoms, Prince Dashiell Edgard Ferik, son of King Rian the Sixth, has chosen for his bride, the fair and noble, Lady Wenonah, daughter of Lord Ulara of Norcliffe of Grenden…”

Elanna’s core warmed.

There was movement on either side of Elanna, but her starlit core held her attention.

Stars.

“…the House of Sidra doth hereby pronounce that through this matrimony, the Seal of Asalle… ”

Out of the corner of Elanna’s eye, Daved moved toward the dais, as did Petre and three of the other Warins.

Elanna blinked. They had not moved at all.

All at once, the warmth of her core burst, and a glorious heat raced through Elanna’s entire being.

The sovereign! The voice was an alarm bell pealing through her veins.

Elanna opened her mouth and shouted, “Your Majesty!”

But ’twas too late.

Too much happened at once.

Four Warins—three of them wore yellow armbands—and Commander Kaff drew their swords simultaneously and each rammed them through a person in the hall. Lord Ulara. High Commander Dirk. And two of the queensguard.

Hux burst through the doors, followed by Elanna’s and Tara’s guards, shouting, “’Tis the Chancellor!”

And the chancellor, who stood directly behind King Rian, pulled a long dagger from his robes and drove it into his sovereign.

Queen Ferika’s scream pierced the hall instantaneously before everything erupted into chaos. A metallic tinge of blood filled the air.

Elanna stood dumb, staring at King Rian slumped on the dais, Queen Ferika frantically using the bottom of her skirts to stanch the blood.

Prince Dashiell was held in a stupor for a number of heartbeats.

He suddenly came alive and seized a sword out of the hand of a fallen Warin knight who’d dropped near him.

He went for Chancellor Griffith but was attacked by Petre and found himself in combat with the Warin.

Daved dashed to aid Dashiell but at once found himself fighting another Warin instead.

A mass of people—knights and nobles, men and women—already lay lifeless on the floor.

Two council members bolted the double doors, and the thump of castle knights battering against it was like a terrible drum. From behind the side door hidden by a tapestry, more men with swords appeared .

Hux was next to Elanna and used the dagger he’d taken from Petre against a man who’d swung his weapon in her direction. He shoved her out of the way, yelling, “I told Tolvar I needed a sword!”

Joss, Barrett, and Goodsell had all managed to get weapons from fallen victims and were in the thick of the fray.

Goodsell backed Tara into a wall and had her at his back.

She shouted commands and directions at him.

Elanna realized that Tara was using her Sight to See where Goodsell would be attacked next.

She tempted fatigue, but Goodsell managed to down four men in what seemed like blinks of an eye.

“Lady Wenonah!”

The woman cowered under her chair, sobbing into her father’s body.