Page 80 of Scorched Earth (Dark Shores #4)

LYDIA

“Let us get in out of the sun, Your Grace.” Lady Calorian tugged at Lydia’s elbow. “A chilled wine and a moment alone, I think.”

Lydia allowed Killian’s mother to draw her forward, but it was Killian’s arm she latched onto. “I want Killian with me.”

“Of course.” His mother looked between them, then shook her head. “Like yesterday, I remember him practicing the words to swear his oath to you. Dozens of times he said it, and though he never spoke it to your face, the spoken word binds. It is no surprise the Six saw fit to have you reunited.”

“Have her made presentable to the people in Serlania,” Hacken said, ignoring his mother’s comments. “And there must be a ball.”

“It is not a fitting time for dancing,” his mother retorted. “We’re at war.”

“It’s a show of strength.” Hacken’s brown eyes were cold. “And I will be obeyed in my own house.”

Lydia’s lips parted to remind the High Lord that he’d given her authority over him, but nothing but breath escaped.

“If I had not birthed you, I would deny that you are my flesh and blood,” Lady Calorian said between her teeth. “Death snaps at our doorsteps and still you think of politics.”

Hacken only rolled his eyes, then took the steps two at a time, disappearing inside with the other high lords. Malahi started after him. “I’m still a Rowenes, and until they convict me of crimes, I have the right to be here. I’ll endure their abuse for the sake of monitoring their plots.”

“Or we could just kill them all,” Agrippa suggested. “Nothing like a massacre to change up the political landscape.”

Lady Calorian muttered, “Just make sure you do it outside.”

As Malahi passed, she paused before Lydia. “I’m sorry. I know this isn’t what you want, but Mudamora needs you to do what I cannot. Please forgive me.”

Lydia didn’t answer, and Malahi sighed, climbing the steps into the palace.

Dareena waved a hand, and Sonia approached with two former members of Malahi’s guard, Lena and Gwen, all women Lydia counted as dear friends.

Yet she felt nothing at seeing them; all her emotions drowned each other out so that all Lydia felt was numb.

And though she’d just been made into the most powerful woman in Mudamora, never had she felt more powerless.

Shade fell over her as she entered the manor, the air smelling like wood polish and fresh-cut flowers, the floorboards creaking slightly beneath their feet.

The foyer was large, with a twin staircase curving up the sides to the second level.

A delicate chandelier hung over a table at the center, which held an enormous arrangement of roses.

Lydia was led up the right-hand staircase, then down a hall.

Bright light filtered through windows to make rainbows across the whitewashed walls, which all bore watercolor paintings in vibrant hues.

“In here.” Lady Calorian opened the door to a room, but Killian said, “Wait outside. I need to speak to Lydia alone.”

“Not possible,” his mother said curtly. “And most certainly not appropriate.”

“Please tell me you’re joking, Mother,” Killian snapped. “I’m gods-damned oath sworn to protect her and have traveled across the whole bloody continent with her. The propriety ship has sailed.”

“Of that I have no doubt,” she retorted.

“But I know that every High Lord has predicated his or her support on the potential union with an unwed queen, most especially your brother. He already sees you as an obstacle. I didn’t get you back only to lose you within the day.

” Then she smacked him on the back of the head.

“And mind your language, boy, or I’ll have Dareena hold you down while I wash that filthy mouth out with soap. ”

Dareena burst into laughter. “He learned half those words from me, Anne, so that hardly seems fair.”

“Fair punishment for both of you, then.”

“They don’t honestly think I’ll marry any of them, do they?” Lydia asked, her tongue finally loosening, though her voice sounded strange in her ears. And her question was foolish, because she’d seen Malahi in this exact same position. Gods, she herself had been forced into a betrothal before.

“Inside,” Lady Calorian said. “The halls have ears and not all of them are friendly.”

It was a finely appointed bedroom, the balcony doors on the far side flung open, diaphanous curtains blowing inward on a breeze that smelled of greenery and horses.

A large fireplace made of white stone dominated one wall, and the opposite held open doors leading to a bathing chamber with a large copper bath and another fireplace.

The furniture was all polished teak, the bedding and upholstery all a pale blue that would have been serene if Lydia weren’t drowning in anxiety.

“This is Teriana’s favored suite when she visits,” Killian said, then led her to a sofa and sat next to her. Lydia leaned against him, the heat of his shoulder through their clothing causing her to realize how cold she was. Like ice had seeped into her bones.

Dareena went to the sideboard, where she bypassed the chilled wine and retrieved a decanter and four glasses, carrying them to the low table like a barmaid.

She sloshed a generous amount of what smelled like whiskey into all of them.

Snatching hers up, Lydia gulped the contents, the burn making her eyes water.

“Feel better?” Dareena asked, but Lydia only shook her head.

The High Lady of House Falorn sighed and leaned back in her chair, muddy riding boot resting on her knee. No… not High Lady. Because Lydia was High Lady now, on top of being queen, and Dareena was… “You suspected who I was?”

“Yes,” she answered. “You look like how I think I look, though the mirror tells a different story. The years have taken more of a toll than I care to admit. I’m not nineteen anymore.

” Her green eyes fixed on Killian. “The blight has crossed the River Aln and presses south by the day. There is no containing it. Ditches and fire accomplish nothing, and while stone and mortar hold it for a time, we can’t build a wall across the entire kingdom.

There are branches that feed north, but it seems whatever force drives the blight is focused on pressing south.

Likely because Rufina and her army follow at its heels. ”

“Corrupted tenders,” Killian said. “We saw them in Deadground before we crossed the Liratoras into Derin. They’re more plant than human now.”

“You killed them?”

“Just one,” Lydia said softly, and the story of all that they’d learned poured from her lips.

Dareena muttered a string of colorful curses under her breath, then shook her head.

“Even if Anukastre does join forces with us, it may not be enough. Rufina’s army of blighters is in the tens of thousands.

Gamdesh would have been able to turn the advantage to us, but they are in no position to offer aid, as the Cel invaders from across the seas are marching north as we speak, their eyes on Emrant. ”

Lydia’s thoughts went to Teriana, who was a prisoner of that army. Who’d be in the midst of those battles. Her chest tightened with a sudden flood of fear tempered only by her memory of Madoria’s words. Teriana is where she’s supposed to be.

“Kaira is near Emrant with a large portion of her army, with more mobilizing to aid. Emrant might well suffer under a siege, but there is no reason they shouldn’t be able to hold against the Cel until reinforcements arrive.”

Lydia exchanged a tense look with Killian, then said, “I wouldn’t underestimate the Cel army. If they gain control of that xenthier stem and the path is good, more legions will come. Tens of thousands of trained soldiers. Gamdesh needs to know what they’re up against.”

“The Maarin have warned them,” Dareena replied. “But the fact of the matter is, Gamdesh lost the majority of their fleet to Rufina’s attack on Mudaire. They don’t have the ships to move soldiers at speed and it takes time to march an army across a third of Gamdesh.”

A wave of unease passed over Lydia, and she pressed fingers to her temple. These decisions were all now hers to make, and she felt woefully out of her depth.

“Gendorn has refused our requests for aid,” Dareena said. “They think they can hide in the frozen north, failing to realize that while Rufina’s personal goal is the destruction of Mudamora, the Corrupter won’t be content until all of Reath is under his sway.”

Everyone was quiet.

“I’ve seen her host,” Dareena finally said, her green eyes haunted.

“When they aren’t marching or fighting, they lie on the ground in heaps where they fall.

Like mass graves of men, women, and children.

” Her throat moved as she swallowed. “When it is time to march, they rise as one under the singular will that binds them. The blighters don’t fight well and are not unreasonably strong, but they also don’t feel pain.

They keep fighting despite catastrophic injuries.

The only way to stop them is to take off their heads or burn them. ”

“She did the same thing to her own people,” Lydia said quietly. “Poisoned thousands then animated them to hunt for us. They are dead, though. Their souls are with the Six.”

“Tell that to the soldiers who have to cut them down.” Dareena passed a hand over her face as though trying to wipe away a memory. “We’re losing men to desertion by the droves, though where they think they can flee to, I don’t know. The whole gods-damned world is at war.”

Draining her cup, she said, “So to answer your question, no. We can’t defeat them by strength of arms, so all our hope depends on our ability to destroy the blight.

Malahi’s ability, if what you say is true.

Without it, Rufina loses her ability to raise the dead as blighters and we might have a chance at defeating them. ”