Page 19 of Warrior Princess (Blood Weaver Trilogy #3)

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W e left the village under the cover of pre-dawn shadows while chilled air nipped at our faces. The sky was deep indigo, peppered with the last few stars stubbornly clinging to the night. Our boots crunched softly on the gravel as we made our way up the Silent Mountains.

As the eastern horizon began to hint at morning light, we navigated the rugged terrain that bordered Lomewood. Our party of five moved silently, announced only by our rhythmic footsteps and the occasional rustle of wildlife in the underbrush.

After a tense, cautious trek, a whistle pierced the quiet mountain air, followed by flickering lantern light weaving through the trees. We hastened our steps and cut through a thicket until we came face to face with Avery, who waited in a small clearing.

“Sarah! Mary!” Avery's voice broke through the morning stillness as she caught sight of the women we had rescued. Their reunion was heartfelt; they rushed into each other's arms, their embraces speaking volumes of their relief and close bond.

“Thank you, Lyanna,” Avery said, her voice thick with gratitude as she turned to me.

I dipped my head in acknowledgement. “Of course. But it wasn’t just me. I couldn’t have done it without Ronan and Silas.”

She nodded respectfully and thanked them both. Then her expression turned serious as she met my gaze. “I believe I owe you some information.”

“What's happening with my father? Is he okay?” I asked, anxiety threading through my words.

Avery shook her head somberly. “No, he's not okay. He's being poisoned.”

My heart sank. “That's impossible!” My voice was barely above a whisper. “My mother tests his food herself every day.”

Avery's eyes narrowed slightly, as if weighing how much to reveal. “How much do you truly know about Queen Derinda?” she asked pointedly.

I bristled at the question. “She’s my mother! I know her well—”

“Are you aware that you're not her firstborn?” Avery interjected sharply, cutting me off mid-sentence.

Stunned, I could only stare. “What are you talking about? Of course I’m her firstborn.”

Avery shook her head. “No you're not. There is someone else... Queen Derinda's real first child. You might want to start looking into the story of a midwife by the name of Abigail who fled to Keldara. Everyone involved in that birth mysteriously died, except for her.”

Ronan, clearly agitated by the turn the conversation had taken, interjected. “What does it matter if there were others before Leila? How is that relevant now?”

Avery raised an eyebrow, her expression inscrutable. “What if this child is still alive? The rumors say it was stillborn, but what if… Think about the implications of an older child … one who could claim the Valorian throne.”

My mind raced, each thought colliding with the next. The revelation not only threw into question my understanding of my family, but it also hinted at deeper, darker intrigues that had yet to surface. I stared at Avery and tried to calm my pounding heart. The idea that my mother could be involved in something so sinister seemed unfathomable.

“My father… you believe my mother is poisoning him?” I hesitated, the words thick in my throat. “I know my mother can be a difficult woman, but she loves my fath—”

“Here,” Avery interrupted, producing a crumpled piece of paper from the pocket of her jacket and handing it to me. “Read this.”

The letter was weathered, and its edges were frayed as if it had been hidden away and frequently handled.

Dear Alwyn,

Time stretches unbearably when we're apart. My heart aches for your presence. When will you come for me? Each meeting, each promise seems only to delay my journey to Eldwain further. Do not fear M; I have made certain he will not interfere. Nothing will stand between us now.

Forever yours,

D

I read and reread the letter, the familiar curl of the handwriting gnawing at my certainty. It could very well be my mother’s hand, but doubt clouded my judgment. “Are you certain about this?” I handed the letter back to Avery with a trembling hand.

“It was among my father's personal effects,” Avery explained as Ronan took the letter, his eyes scanning the words skeptically. “I believe they were lovers.”

“But that doesn't mean...” I started, my voice trailing off. The implications were too grave. “So what? Your father had multiple wives,” I said, feeling defensive.

“My father has many wives, that's true,” Avery conceded with a slight nod. “But the content of this letter—'handling M'—doesn't that strike you as ominous?”

The clearing suddenly felt colder, and the weight of her words settled like a stone in my stomach. Could my mother really be involved in such a sinister plot?

“We need more than a letter for proof.” Ronan pocketed the letter. “We’ll look into this midwife story. Meanwhile, how can we reach you discreetly?”

“Stella’s Fabric Shop,” Avery replied promptly. “I own it. Each of my operatives manages one in their respective nations, except Ellyndor. You can pass messages through them.”

“Is there one in the Grasslands?” I turned to Ronan and Silas, who both nodded, though their expressions showed they had been unaware of its true purpose.

“How extensive is your network?” The gravity of our situation made me eager to grasp any advantage.

“It’s growing, but not large enough to confront Caelan and his allies outright,” Avery admitted. Her gaze scanned the shadowed tree line around us. “Which is why an alliance could benefit us all. We’re striving for the same end—peace across Asteria.”

Silas, ever the skeptic, furrowed his brow. “Why should we trust you?” His voice was laced with suspicion. “Leila might know you, but we don’t.”

The Crimson Clan woman stepped forward with a stern expression. “I can vouch for her.”

Silas scoffed, unconvinced. “For all we know, you’re a traitor. Your word means nothing to us.”

The woman bristled and took a menacing step forward, but Avery gently held her back. “That’s understandable,” Avery conceded with a diplomatic tone, stepping forward to ease the tension. “But I hope we can learn to trust each other. With what Caelan has planned, we’re going to have to work together.”

“What about the rest of your brothers?” I pressed, needing to understand the full scope of her family dynamics. “I can’t imagine they’ll sit idly by while Caelan orchestrates all this.”

Avery smirked slightly. “Caelan is very careful. My brothers are blissfully unaware of his machinations.”

“Then how do you know?” Ronan asked sharply.

Avery held up one finger, a mischievous glint in her eye. “First, I’m not oblivious like they are,” she said, emphasizing her acumen. “Frankly, I’m deeply insulted that you’d even consider me on the same level as them.” She raised a second finger. “Secondly, at this moment, my other brothers are under the impression that Caelan is trying to escape to Valoria to avoid the fight for the throne.” She lifted a third finger, her expression hardening. “And third, Ronan, remember that Caelan is backed by Ellyndor. With such powerful allies, he can orchestrate a lot without raising internal alarms.”

We absorbed her words, the implications of Caelan's support from Ellyndor making the situation even more dire. It was clear that Avery’s insights were our best hope in navigating the treacherous political landscape that lay ahead.

Ronan crossed his arms, his expression contemplative as he considered Avery's words. “If we're going to work together, we need more than just assurances. We need solid proof that you can contribute to our cause.”

Avery nodded in understanding. “Fair enough. I can provide you with intelligence on Caelan's movements and his allies in Ellyndor. Plus, I have agents in place who can disrupt his operations from the inside.”

With his muscular arms folded tightly across his chest, Silas still looked unconvinced. “And how do we know you won't double-cross us? What guarantees do we have?”

“You have my word,” Avery replied firmly. “Plus, it's in my interest as well. Caelan's ambition threatens us all, including my own claim to any future power. I have as much to lose as you do if he succeeds.”

I stepped forward and placed a hand on Ronan's arm to signal my trust in Avery's proposal. “We might not have a better option. If Avery's information can give us an edge, we should take it. We need all the help we can get.”

Ronan looked at me, then back at Avery, and finally nodded. “Alright. We'll work together. But we proceed with caution. At the first sign of betrayal, the deal is off.”

Avery smiled, a spark of victory in her eyes. “Understood. Let’s start by getting your father the help he needs. The information about the midwife in Keldara might lead us to some answers about your mother’s mysterious firstborn.”

“Good.” I felt both anxious and hopeful. “We need to act quickly. Caelan won’t slow down his plans so we can catch up. We’re heading back to the Grasslands. Where are you headed?”

“Eldwain,” Avery answered. “I can’t be gone too long or others will get suspicious. Also, my father is ill. The healers say he could die any day now. I don’t want to be far from his bedside if I can help it.”

“Understandable. We’ll send word through the fabric shop.” I extended a hand to her and she clasped it.

“It’s good doing business with you, Princess Lyanna.”

I offered a grim smile. “Likewise, Princess Avery.”