Page 32 of Raven Rebel (Sablewood #1)

Brenna

B renna smoothed her hand over her champagne silk skirts as she walked beside her sister. Meara glided along in a smokey slip of a dress that was not befitting a breakfast, but she didn’t seem to care and Brenna was simply happy she was in a dress and not trousers.

Cerne sat in the antechamber, leaning forward with his forearms resting on his knees as he spoke with Tayen. The younger faerie held a letter in his hands. It flashed with gilding, and Brenna caught sight of the heavy, sharp script of a calligrapher.

As they entered, Cerne rose. “Morning, ladies.”

“Good morning,” Brenna said. Meara pressed her lips into a line, seemingly unsure of what to say. Brenna frowned at her. “Is something going on?”

“We are being summoned to the high king’s court,” Cerne said. Tayen rose and held up the paper. A crest inked across the top depicted a silver griffon. “Court Tara.”

“Summoned?” Meara echoed, crossing her arms. Brenna reached out and brushed her upper arm. She pulled back imperceptibly. “Why? When?”

“High King Argyro is not patient,” Cerne said with a shake of his head, his throat working. “We will have to go immediately.”

“What is the reason?” Brenna asked.

“You are being asked to present yourself to his court.”

“So it’s fine. Right?”

“It’s not typical,” Cerne admitted.

“They simply want to meet you.” Tayen said. “How about we eat and we can discuss it.”

Ayala swept in, looking between them. She spotted the summons in Tayens hand and snatched it. “Argyro heard about them? How?”

“I was hoping you could tell me,” Cerne said dryly. Ayala’s eyes narrowed.

Brenna followed Tayen into the dining room, settling into the cushioned seats. A spread of cranberry scones, spiced eggs, salted pork and petite layered desserts covered the table.

Cerne sank into his seat and took a long drink of his cider. “It will be fine, but I prefer to avoid Court Tara.”

“I’m sorry,” Brenna said quietly.

His gaze landed on her. “You did nothing wrong. But I would like to know who is reporting back to the high king. I don’t care for the idea of spies.” Ayala huffed, clinking her goblet down. Cerne tipped his head toward her. “Except for you, of course. ”

Eyebrows shooting up, Brenna peeled her eyes off Ayala and focused on her plate. The fae female was a spy. Brenna wondered if she chose this path for herself, or if it was inherited like Seda and Cerne’s positions.

Tayen set the layered dessert on her plate. “Try this, they don’t have it in the human kingdoms.”

“Thanks.”

Everyone ate quietly, and Brenna used a small spoon to scoop a bit of the top layer. It was whipped cream flavored with something floral. She inspected layers of some sort of creamy soft cheese or yogurt, crushed nuts, oats crumble, fruit, and a dark syrup. It was delicious.

The fire crackled behind Cerne. He rested his head in his hand and watched the table.

Not the table - specifically Meara. Brenna peered at her sister.

She kept her gaze on her food and pushed it around her plate as if she was nervous.

Suspicion crept in, making Brenna’s observations sharper.

A soft flush suffused Meara’s cheeks and the tips of her tapered ears pink.

“So when do we leave?” Ayala asked, swinging the goblet in her hand and taking a sip of whatever bubbly liquid sloshed within it.

Cerne’s attention snapped to her. “We should leave today so we can reach it tonight. Best not to keep the high king waiting. And hopefully, we can outpace the rainstorm that’s been darkening our horizon.”

“Good plan. It would be miserable to ride in the rain,” Ayala said. The pinch to her mouth suggested there was more than the potential for rain bothering her.

“Who will be joining us?” Brenna asked.

Tayen eyed Cerne before answering, “Most likely the five of us in this room. Xurey left early this morning for her next journey, and Seda must stay.” His eyes shot back to his lord, and Cerne gave a slight nod.

Ayala set her drink down and pushed back to stand. “As lovely as this breakfast is, I have a lot of preparations to make, especially if we have to prepare to bring these two to the high king’s court.”

Cerne nodded. “Would you please assist them?”

“As if I am a servant,” Ayala quipped, sweeping out the door. She paused, looking over her shoulder. “Of course I will, do not get yourself in a bunch.”

Brenna stared at the empty doorway once Ayala disappeared. She offered to help them.

“You’ve won her over,” Tayen said, smiling at the sisters. “That’s not easy to do.”

Shrugging, Brenna dug back into her breakfast, making sure to eat plenty so she would have the energy she needed for a long day of travel. It was easier to focus on preparations than the swirling, anxious thoughts of being presented to the high king and queen of the faeries.

Back in their rooms, Kirrily was already at work, laying out dresses and travel clothes. The dryad’s nimble fingers smoothed the fine fabrics.

“This one won’t do,” Ayala said, pointing to a cream dress Dyani had made for Brenna. “Too informal.”

Kirrily replaced the dress with a more structured and fitted style without hesitating.

“I liked that one,” Brenna said. “So how much do we need to bring? It’s just one day.”

Ayala’s gaze was sharp. “You will be presented, and then there will be some sort of dinner or banquet at the minimum. Those are standard, but we do not know if the king and queen will want to see you again the next morning. While we’d like to avoid the attention, it is an honor.

You must be prepared with garb appropriate for their presence. ”

“This still seems excessive,” Meara muttered.

“Best to have a few days worth of court clothing and not need it, than to rewear a dress.” Her fists rested on her hips, her mouth thin as she waited for Meara to challenge her.

“Whatever you say,” Meara said, raising her hands in surrender.

“Brenna, please braid Meara’s hair tight so it has some wave to it when we arrive.” Hand fluttering in a dismissive wave, Ayala turned away from them and moved to inspect the jewelry Kirrily was placing into a linen travel pouch.

Meara plopped into the armchair and flipped her hair over the back. Brenna left Ayala to order Kirrily around and went to work weaving Meara’s hair into a series of braids coming together at the back of her neck.

“That should do it. I will see you shortly,” Ayala said, sweeping toward the door.

“What is Court Tara like? How will we know what to do?” Brenna asked, anxiety fighting to the forefront of her thoughts.

Ayala paused, looking her up and down. “Don’t worry. Tayen will prepare you, I am sure. He’s always taken good care of his pets.”

The insult didn’t have the same bite as before, so perhaps she was accustomed to Ayala’s acerbic nature, or they really had forged a friendship with her. Flame colored hair blew behind her as the faerie disappeared into the hall .

“Is there anything else I can do for you?” Kirrily asked.

Brenna sighed. “Thank you, Kirrily. Again, we could not manage without you.” With a nod, the dryad curtsied and left them.

The sisters changed into trousers and tunics, pulling cloaks over their shoulders.

Despite her love of luxury dresses, Brenna found comfort in the familiar, similar fabric and practical cuts, even if she’d prefer that fabric was a work dress and not trousers.

But fae females wore pants often, and she was trying to adjust.

A servant took their bags, and they trailed after, repeating the same process as their trip to Dornadan, but with a new destination in mind. Brenna’s stomach churned.

Tayen mounted Eirlys, patting the mare’s white coat. “Let’s get moving!” Her snowy mane gleamed like platinum as she tossed her head.

Ayala nodded and swung up onto Airgid’s back. The dappled stallion stood calmly, ignoring the hoof stamping coming from Eirlys.

A groomsman brought Clover to Brenna with a shallow bow. A thick pad sat atop the mare’s back, and after her soreness from their last ride, Brenna was grateful for the padding.

She ran her hands over her golden coat and sooty snout. “Ready, my friend?” Snorting, she tossed her dark mane. Brenna allowed Ryles to boost her up, and she swung a leg over Clover’s back and settled into place.

“Thank you,” she said. Ryles nodded and moved to help settle packs on the horses’ haunches.

Meara sat atop Bran’s black back, her fingers tangled in his mane. Tayen pulled Eirlys around, and Ayala sat still atop Airgid. Only Cerne stood alone, his bay stallion nowhere to be seen. With a shimmer of russet magic, he shifted into his stag form.

“I guess he didn’t want to talk,” Brenna muttered to Clover, whose ears twitched. She scratched along the mare’s neck affectionately.

The party set out, following Cerne’s stag form as he led the way.

Brenna watched the tawny tines of his antlers sway.

The overcast day tinged the forest in celadon.

The trees forced them into a single line, so there was little conversation, only the occasional snap of a twig under a hoof or the snort of a horse.

Brenna’s heart rose to her throat as she thought about entering an unknown king’s court. Hopefully soon they could speak with Tayen and learn what was expected.

They worked their way around the west side of the valley until they walked directly north.

Hours slipped by, and Brenna found herself lost in thoughts of banquets and fae nobles.

The terrain grew steeper downhill, and Brenna leaned back in her seat.

Clover was steady and cautious, but she still sighed in relief when the ground leveled.

The sound of hooves broke through the forest sounds, and Ayala pulled Airgid around, looking for the source.

Cerne moved to put himself between their party and the noise.

They caught glimpses of riders in the distance, weaving through the trees at a much faster pace.

Within minutes, they were pulling level.

The leader called, “Ho!” Three horses slowed to a walk and then stopped.

“Farran!” Cerne called, stepping forward in his faerie form.

“Who are they?” Meara asked, sidling Bran closer to Tayen and Eirlys.

Tayen eyed the riders. “Rangers. They are half-fae nomads who go between the faerie and human lands. ”

Their leader swung down from his golden stallion and approached.

He walked with the grace of a faerie, but he was heavily muscled, and a close-cropped beard shaded his jaw.

Sleek, black hair swept into a tie at the back of his head.

Keen eyes studied their group, landing on her momentarily before moving on.

Cerne met the man, and they clasped arms, smiling. “Farran, it’s good to see you. Where is your bride?”

Frowning, the man spoke with the accent of Brynmor or another southern kingdom. “I left Melisande home. We are headed to Court Tara, but I am afraid it is not with good tidings.”

“What is wrong?” Cerne asked. Tayen dropped from Eirlys’ back and joined them. Tension tightened his shoulders, defining the muscles through his tunic.

Farran ran a hand through his hair. “Dornadan and Liosliath are bringing demands to King Argyro. Princess Elysia was abducted.”

“What?” yelped Brenna. Clover stepped sideways nervously. She stroked her neck. “Sorry, baby.”

“That is surprising and unfortunate. Do you know any details?” Tayen asked.

“She was taken by shadows.”

Silence fell at his words. Dark resignation shone on every face. She chewed her lip, waiting for someone to explain.

Tayen stepped back, reaching for Eirlys. “We shall see you at Court Tara. We were summoned to present our new friends. This is Meara and Brenna.”

Farran smiled widely, his lined face warm and friendly despite the obvious tension in his followers.

“Well met, my ladies. I am Farran, leader of the Rangers. This is my second, Lorand.” He motioned to the man on a black mare.

Slightly tapered ears poked through glossy, black hair.

“And Cahira.” The muscled woman rode a gelding painted with splotches of reddish brown across its white coat.

Her own burgundy hair shone against her olive skin.

She nodded in greeting but made to move to dismount.

“I’m afraid we must also be on our way. We should report to Argyro as soon as possible.” Farran was already striding to his stomping mount. He swung onto the stallion’s back in one smooth movement, and they were off. Clover nickered as the Rangers rode out of view.

“That will not make our visit better,” Cerne grumbled before shifting into his stag.

Brenna chewed her bottom lip as they rode, unsettled by the news of the princess. If she was taken by shadows, it must be a faerie. But why? She couldn’t imagine what someone would want with the delicate human princess.