Page 6 of The Beginning (Covert Moon, #1)

Eamonn

The Fae Realm

* * *

M y mother said I was born under luck. That shortly after I was born, it was prophesied that I would be lucky.

Not moments where I'd be lucky until this or that point in time, but my entire life.

A series of fortunate events occurred that allowed me to be acknowledged far and wide as a child who would live a luck-filled life, or so my mother said.

Repeatedly. She'd spoken of stars aligning and favorable omens, though I'd never put much stock in such things myself.

The events of my life seemed anything but lucky…

betrayal after betrayal plagued me from the moment I had my first friend.

I couldn’t think of a single connection I had that hadn’t unraveled in the face of a stab in the back. My mother would counter that luck wasn’t shown from those events, but rather was proved in how impervious I was to the aftermath. She likened me to a cat that always landed on its feet.

My current assignment notwithstanding.

There had been groans of sympathy in the Guardroom when the commander relayed our orders to Gavin and me.

My partner and fellow King’s Guardsman, was also my best friend.

Indeed, he was the first person in my life, aside from my parents, who proved his loyalty over and again.

Since we had grown up together as little boys, Gavin was a beacon of friendship in an otherwise untrustworthy world.

This morning’s orders found us escorting a noblewoman to be sent off for marriage.

As King’s Guards we were deployed in all manner of duties, but direct work with the lords and ladies of the court was the least desirable.

Courtiers made everything more difficult, and though we were the king’s instruments, we did not hold a position of power over the nobles.

This fact made my job all the more distasteful, as we dragged the Lady Annaliese to what she clearly felt was her doom.

All I could hear was her tormented sobs, making me wince with each harsh, jagged cry and desperate gasp that seemed to come from the very depths of her soul.

The sound echoed off the stone walls of the corridor, amplifying her anguish.

I averted my eyes, facing forward, choosing to focus on the long corridor ahead.

The tapestries that lined the walls depicted scenes of courtly romance and noble marriages, their bright threads now seeming to mock our current situation.

Almost there, we were almost there . I focused on the sound of my boots on the stone floor, the familiar rhythm of military movement that had been drilled into me during training.

I wished that was all I could hear as the three of us–me, the Lady, and, Gavin, walked.

The corridor stretched before us, lined with tall windows that cast long rectangles of afternoon light across the polished stone.

I was well-trained, capable of handling all situations.

My instructors had drilled that into me during the grueling months of preparation for the King's Guard.

But I could feel my heart beating faster, a sure sign of trouble.

My pulse hammered against my ribs like a caged bird desperate for freedom.

But trouble from where?

I scanned the familiar hallways, searching for any sign of what might be causing this inexplicable dread. The lady’s crying put me even more on edge, each sob like a discordant note in a symphony of sadness. This should have been a routine task; no major concerns, but it didn't feel that way.

"Eamonn, why are you doing this?" Lady Annaliese stopped her crying long enough to send some guilt in my direction. Her voice was raw from weeping, hoarse and broken, yet still carrying the refined accent of her noble upbringing.

I didn't even know she knew my name. I was a King's Guard, true, but Lady Annaliese was a member of the court, with an important father and now, an equally important betrothed.

Her father was Lord Aldric, one of the king's most trusted advisors, a man whose word carried weight in matters of state and policy. To her, I was nothing.

Or so I thought.

We inhabited different worlds within these same castle walls—she in the realm of silk gowns and political intrigue, I in the world of steel and unwavering duty.

Carefully, I said, "My lady, you know why we're here. We are all following the orders we've been given by our King." The words felt heavy on my tongue, formal and distant. I hated to say this to her, given her obvious despair, even as much as I wanted to be rid of her.

I knew she didn't want to marry him. I think everyone at court knew how much the Lady didn't want to marry the man who was her intended.

The whispers had been circulating for weeks since the betrothal was announced.

But the order had been given. The king himself had made the match, sealed it with his royal decree and the weight of political necessity.

I'd heard that the queen was in favor of it as well, seeing it as a strategic alliance that would strengthen the kingdom's position with neighboring territories.

Which meant Lady Annaliese would marry as she was told.

Besides, it wasn't just me—Gavin, my fellow guardsman, was with us as well. Why was I getting all the questions? I tried to keep the irritation from showing on my face.

"Eamonn, this is not a good match! I don't want it! Why are you listening to this order? You know this isn’t right!

" Again, with the use of my first name, as though we were friends.

Her voice rose with each word, desperation bleeding through the careful composure she'd been taught to maintain.

The way she said my name suggested a closeness that puzzled me—an assumed familiarity that left me on edge.

The lady and I were not friends. Our paths had crossed in the castle corridors, certainly, but always with the proper distance maintained between a noble lady and a member of the King’s Guard.

I'd always nodded respectfully when she passed, received her polite acknowledgment in return, and thought nothing more of it.

I turned to face her, taking in her appearance more fully than I had since we'd begun this walk.

I could see the anguish on her face, etched in every line of worry around her eyes, in her trembling of her lips, in the way her hands clutched at her skirts as if they were the only thing keeping her anchored to this world.

Her usually perfectly arranged hair had come loose from its careful styling, auburn strands escaping to frame her tear-stained cheeks.

And I found that I felt empathy for her, a stirring of genuine compassion that surprised me with its intensity.

Not enough to tempt me from my orders— my oath was sacred, my duty absolute.

I took a deep breath, hoping I would say the right thing.

Spoiled and indulged she might be, but I understood not wanting to do something against your will.

The feeling of being trapped, of having one's choices stripped away—it was universal, affecting commoner and noble alike.

It would also be helpful if Gavin spoke up, shared some of the burden of this conversation.

I looked over at him, but his gaze was fixed on the floor in front of us.

His usual easy confidence had vanished, replaced by something I couldn't quite identify.

His lips were pressed to a thin line so tight they'd gone pale, a sign of an extreme emotion for him that puzzled me. This wasn’t a pleasant chore, to be sure.

I'd need to talk with him later about supporting your fellow guardsman, about the importance of presenting a united front in situations like this.

"Lady Annaliese, I do understand your distress. The king and your father—they wouldn’t make a decision for you that was unwise.

" I had no idea if her father was a good man, but I knew the king was.

King Jharak had always been fair in his dealings, just in his judgments, and genuinely concerned for the welfare of his subjects.

If he had arranged this marriage, there had to be sound reasoning behind it, even if that reasoning wasn't apparent to those of us not in the king’s confidence.

"Please, my lady, we must continue to escort you as we have been instructed." My arm moved up toward hers hoping to guide her in the direction we were going with no further delays. A gentle nudge, nothing more forceful than what might be used to guide an elderly relative or a child.

Again, I wondered why Gavin wasn't helping here. His continued silence was becoming more concerning and annoying with each passing moment. But he remained mute, his arms hanging at his sides like dead weights, his eyes still fixed on some invisible point on the floor ahead of us.

My unease increased, settling in my stomach like a cold stone.

I couldn't see anything amiss in our immediate surroundings—the corridor looked exactly as it always did, the afternoon light streaming through the windows in familiar patterns, the distant sounds of castle life carrying on as normal.

But the feeling was deep and persistent.

Years of training and experience had taught me to trust my instincts, to listen to that inner voice that warned of danger even when everything appeared calm on the surface.

Lady Annaliese began crying again, but at least her sobs were not the harsh, loud sobbing of moments before.

Perhaps she'd realized that I—like she—must do as I am ordered—all the king's subjects must. I could tell from Gavin's face that he was also affected by her crying, though he showed it differently than I did.

Where I felt compelled to offer what comfort I could within the bounds of duty, he seemed to withdraw further into himself.

I shot another glance at him. His reaction—or lack thereof—continued to bother me more than the lady herself.