Castle Coeds 10, page 28
“This has been long overdue,” King Lavino had said as he signed his name in large, cursive handwriting on the parchment.
We’d made six copies for each of the provinces and territories, and he’d paused in the middle of signing the third contract.
“You will make a fine emperor.” King Lavino’s smile had been fatherly, and his hazel eyes twinkled.
“It’s not why I killed Constantine,” I’d said. “It just had to be done.”
“Precisely why you are best fitted for the role.” King Lavino had grinned.
The other kings and queens nodded their heads and smiled proudly.
“Here’s to Emperor Isaac of Tullia!” Altan had cheered.
The Shanukstani royals’ advisor had clapped his hands, and Tullia’s nobles followed suit. I was as stunned then as I was now by their praise, and I vowed to do the best I could to keep their people safe and happy.
“I don’t have to move to the emperor’s palace, right?” An uneasy chuckle had escaped my lips, but there was a nugget of worry buried in my mind.
“Oh, no!” King Lavino laughed. “That place can rot.”
And it did.
No one had set foot on the emperor’s island in the last six years. I checked on it every year or so to make sure, and the palace had been consumed by the elevated island’s nature. Trees had started growing right through the architecture, and vines wrapped the tower tightly like constrictors. The stone gazebo was cracked from the push of invasive plants, and the garden was overgrown beyond recognition.
We’d removed the emperor’s palace from new maps of Tullia and had renamed the island filled with dragon bones the Isle of the Fallen. We’d buried our own fallen there and built a memorial for Alarik, Trinika, Noll, and the couple hundred warriors, soldiers, and guards who’d fought for our cause.
A plaque had been mounted on Castle Woodhouse’s barricade, and every day I saw new flowers placed at its base.
Ellaria, Gwen, Andamora, Asha, Akoni, and I traveled through two more villages and one hamlet before Castle Woodhouse finally came into view. Our home was surrounded by luscious green fields and clusters of groves and copses. It was sometimes hard to tell that it had been a college dorm once upon a time, but there were still hints of the red, Indiana bricks around the entrance.
The barricade Tevai had erected from the soil years ago hid most of the façade, but the two turrets on either side poked out over the wall. The drawbridge the Shanukstani tribe had built for us had been attached to a lift mechanism and was shut tight.
The original Shanukstani tribe, next to Castle Woodhouse, had quadrupled in size and become a small town. They called it Zanar after the bowl-shaped sunflower because it also meant sunset. The tribe kept adding sun-shaped clusters of yurts as they expanded the settlement, and I thought it was a fitting name for their thriving village.
It was nice to know the nomadic people were comfortable and happy to stay long-term. They still mainly lived in their yurts, but they’d also built a few homes and community buildings with wood and stone for the colder seasons.
“I would like to go on a walk,” Andamora said in a sleepy voice from the wagon.
We’d stopped near the entrance to the village, and she poked her head out from behind Gwen’s shoulder. Andamora’s hazel eyes were slightly glazed from her nap, and she stretched her arms over her head.
“A walk would be good,” Asha agreed. “It’s important to be moving around.”
Since Andamora had announced her pregnancy, the ex-nursing student had been making sure she was comfortable, and I was grateful for Asha.
We dropped off the horses and wagon by our castle’s barricade, and I thanked the three guards who offered to take them to the stables inside. With the growing tribe and nearby villages, we’d received a lot of applications for workers and guards. More and more men joined our army and trained alongside the warriors.
After a couple of years, I’d selected a few of them to be posted around the castle and patrol the surrounding area. By the fourth year, there were so many who had joined our forces that I couldn’t keep up with all their names.
Gwen, Andamora, Akoni, Asha, and I wandered around the wall toward Zanar. Children ran around the trees playing tag, and their giggles wafted to us.
“Boo!” Arden popped out from behind a tree with her hands in front of her.
“Ahhh!” The group of toddlers scattered away laughing and yelling in high-pitched tones.
Arden was one of the local teachers, and she taught English and math to children ages four to ten. I was happy she got to use her skills from her time in the education program in college. She was a natural and an amazing teacher.
Nora rushed out of the foliage, crouched forward with her arms out. Our twin boys cackled as they waddled ahead of her. Their dark auburn hair looked bright red in the sunlight and stuck out at the sides.
“Be careful!” Arielle said.
The four-year-old was just a year older than the boys, but had the wisdom and kindness of an old soul. Her large brown eyes drifted toward us, and a bright grin spread across her face.
“Mama!” she yelled out. “Daddy!”
She ran in our direction, and Gwen plucked her off her feet. Arielle had the willowy brunette’s wavy hair and high cheekbones. My daughter reached an arm toward me, and I grinned and came closer. She gripped my sleeve as I wrapped her and her mother in a hug.
“I missed you,” she said with a little pout.
“We missed you, too, love,” I said. “I’m so happy to see you.”
“Happy Daddy Day!” Arielle smiled.
I wondered if that was better than Emperor Isaac’s Day, but I couldn’t tell.
There was a whooshing sound, and the leaves rustled all around us. An acorn-sized fruit dropped on Nora’s head, and it startled her.
“Rangi,” Tevai’s voice was stern.
The dragon-woman strode over from the direction of the castle to stand next to me. She crossed her arms over her chest and fixed her gaze on the foliage with a tinge of warning in her eye.
The leaves shook, and a giggling boy flew out of the foliage.
“Dad, look what I can do!” he shouted and made two loops in the air.
He had his mother’s shock of oil-black hair and amber eyes that were a perfect blend of Tevai’s and my eye colors. The only thing that differentiated him from other humans was his very dragon-like wings.
“Apologize to Nora,” Tevai said in a disciplinary tone, but there was a hint of a smile on her lips.
Pride for our son exuded from her, and her golden eye twinkled. Rangi flew toward us and stumbled onto the ground. He hadn’t quite mastered his landings, and he nearly tumbled over.
His scaly black wings poked out from under his shoulder blades and stretched out nearly two feet on either side of him. Rangi was tan-skinned like his mother, and like Tevai, he had faint, white lines covering his skin, but they looked like faded scales rather than scars.
“Sorry, Nora,” Rangi said with a sheepish grin.
The redhead smiled and shook her head.
“You’re forgiven,” Nora said.
“Can you find your sisters and tell them lessons start in ten minutes, please?” Arden asked.
“I think they’re with Kryze in the nursery,” Rangi said.
“Mmmhmm.” Arden nodded with a knowing smile. “All the way on the other side of Zanar. You know who has wings and is incredibly kind and helpful to his favorite teacher?”
Rangi’s lips quivered as he tried to hold in a smile, and he shrugged.
“I think you know the answer to that one, buddy,” I chuckled.
“It’s me,” he said with a budding grin.
Rangi ran a few steps before leaping and spreading his wings. He soared over the Shanukstani village, and Tevai let out a long whistle of approval.
Rangi was the first human-dragon hybrid in Tullia. We hadn’t been sure what to expect when Tevai had been pregnant with him, and there seemed to be something new to discover about him every few months.
For the first two years of his life, we were sure he was just human, but on his second birthday, a pair of leathery wings had sprouted from his back. At three, the faint scale patterns on his tan skin had appeared overnight like tattoos, and when he’d turned five a couple months ago, he’d set his cake on fire by trying to blow out the candles.
He was getting more powerful by the year, and he was only five.
“Arielle, are you ready for our lesson?” Arden asked.
“Yes!” The four-year-old kicked her legs with excitement.
Gwen lowered Arielle to the ground, and our daughter took Arden’s hand. The petite woman held private lessons for our older kids, and that included Arielle, Rangi, and Kryze’s and my two eldest daughters.
“Who else is in the nursery?” I asked.
“Kryze is there, finally resting,” Arden said. “Aslan didn’t want to nap.”
Kryze had suggested the name for our third child, and now every time I saw our toddler, I thought of Narnia. The Shanukstani priestess was thinking of calling our next one Isaac, but I had to veto that. I already had a day named after myself. I couldn’t have my children named after me, too.
“I’ll walk with you to the nursery,” Ellaria said. “I’ve missed my darling so much.”
I’d told the Lydmark woman that she wasn’t obliged to travel to King Lavino’s wedding, but she insisted on making a presence. The other women encouraged her to take some time for herself, and that they’d watch our one-year-old while we were away.
As King Brunard’s advisor, it had been a good call for Ellaria to be in attendance.
“I am due to have tea with Maeve,” Ellaria said. “Though I suspect she only invites me over to see the baby.”
“She is better company.” Nora nodded, and a teasing grin curved her lips.
Ellaria’s lady’s maid had moved into a cottage at the back of Castle Woodhouse, near the pond. She liked hosting us for tea, but enjoyed the solitude of her little home.
Kryze and Olivia were seven and eight months pregnant, and couldn’t travel. They spent most of their time in the nursery with the young children.
“I will come, too.” Akoni nodded, and the trinkets in her loose locs jingled. “The little one needs to be fed, and I need to make sure my boy is behaving.”
Akoni was still breastfeeding our second, and she needed to be around our boy, who’d just realized he could make people give him pastries. Three was very young to develop mindbending, and we wanted to train him to use the power for selfless reasons.
Ellaria, Akoni, and Andamora followed Arden, Nora, and the kids to the nursery to meet the others. Tevai, Gwen, and I strolled through the Shanukstani village and took in the decorations that were being put up.
Paper ornaments were strewn over the streets of the settlement, and a fire crackled in the town center as usual. Bahdir strode over with a big grin on his face.
“Happy Emperor Isaac’s Day,” my emissary said in a teasing tone.
“Is it too late to change the holiday’s name?” I asked in Shanukstani with a chuckle.
The language hadn’t been easy to master, but I was proud of how far I’d come. Kryze and Bahdir insisted that I had no accent, but I still suspected they were just being nice.
“Too late.” Bahdir shook his head. “And too tiresome to message all of Tullia.”
“That is true.” Tevai’s tone was sage.
“Where’s Jacosa?” Gwen asked.
“My wife is training with the other magic-holders,” Bahdir said. “She did want me to let you know you are welcome to join.”
“I’d love that!” the willowy brunette smiled. “Are they in the usual spot?”
“Yes.” Bahdir nodded. “They just left, so you have not missed anything.”
Carl and his crew had moved into Zanar and usually trained in the forest between Maeve’s cottage and the Shanukstani village. Every couple of months, they set off to the other provinces in search of other magic-holders, and their group had tripled in number over the years.
“When did you get back from Kurzain Island?” I asked.
I watched Gwen zig-zag through the crowd, and her long, wavy hair swished from side to side. Bahdir, Tevai, and I took a stroll around the village, and I waved at the passersby who pointed at me or bowed their heads in respect.
“A couple of days ago,” Bahdir said. “It was a fruitful trip.”
“I’m glad to hear that.” I nodded with approval.
We’d caught wind last year that the island off Traders’ Bay had a preserved ancient archive that dated centuries before the massacre of dragonkind.
I’d held onto the documents I’d found in Constantine’s study before the battle six years ago. They’d been journals from the late, ancient dragon, Eramus, about faraway lands and other dragons, and I’d been searching for more clues on where exactly we might find them.
Or if they even existed.
“They have loaned me five of their tomes,” Bahdir said. “And hope that they get to finally meet you when it is time to return them.”
“I can do that.” I couldn’t hide the excitement in my voice. “What were you able to take with you?”
“First-hand accounts of an Anzelia,” Bahdir said.
“Eramus’ mother?” Tevai said in surprise.
It was rare to see shock on the dragon-woman’s face, but it was like a siren in her golden eye.
“You knew her?” Bahdir asked in a tone that matched hers.
“Not personally.” Tevai shook her head. “There was a legend about her. She was said to have been the birth of dragonkind.”
“Hmm.” I chewed the inside of my cheek in thought. “So, she was not alive when the genocide happened?”
“Some believed she was,” Tevai said. “But some thought she’d flown to safety, to repopulate our world.”
“Maybe she flew to Vallia,” I thought out loud.
“That kingdom was named in the journals,” Bahdir said. “I also found a folder of letters to Eramus. He was supposed to inform the dragons in Tullia about this new, prosperous land, but I suspect Constantine’s war broke out before he had the chance.”
I felt a pang in my chest, and my heart went out to that poor mother. I couldn’t imagine waiting for any of my children, only for them not to return home.
“I have left the tomes in your library,” Bahdir said.
“Thanks.” I smiled. “I’ll have a look before tonight’s events.”
“Do you know when you think you’ll set off to the new kingdom?” Bahdir said as we retraced our steps around the village.
“Within the next year,” I said. “I’m hoping to find coordinates in one of those tomes.”
“One of them has a map folded between some pages,” my emissary said. “I couldn’t make sense of it.”
“We’ll look into it in the morning.” I stifled a yawn and smiled.
We made it to Zanar’s entrance, and I excused myself before heading back to the castle. My eyelids were drooping, and I desperately needed a nap if I was going to stay up all night partying. Owain and Odine were due to arrive in a few hours, and I didn’t want to welcome them looking like I belonged in The Walking Dead.
After the renovations Tevai, Akoni, and I made with our magic, Castle Woodhouse was unrecognizable from its early days as a women’s dorm. We’d expanded a lot and turned the dining room into what most of the women liked to call a banquet hall.
It had a high ceiling and tall, domed windows that flooded the space with sunlight. The wooden table was about thirty feet long to accommodate our big family and for when we hosted events.
Castle Woodhouse’s halls were bustling with maids and butlers sweeping and polishing for tonight’s party. I passed the kitchen, and the smell of bread and cakes wafted through the swinging doors and made my stomach grumble.
I stopped by the library and found the five books Bahdir had brought back for me. He’d placed them on a desk that was tucked in the corner of the large room, behind the floor-to-ceiling bookshelves. There were leather upholstered chairs and sofas scattered around the room. I’d put one of the gray IKEA couches we’d kept as a souvenir from Earth in the corner because it was too uncomfortable to use.
Our bedroom was on the second floor and took up most of the back of the castle. If Tullia had a Guinness World Records book series, our bed would have made it on the list for being the biggest.
Nora liked to say it was an emperor-sized bed, and I always shook my head in mock-disapproval.
It was double the size of an extra-large family bed, and fit all eleven of us perfectly. The bedroom had a proper door, and we’d decorated it with memorabilia from our travels around Tullia, and some of the knick-knacks the women had in their dorm rooms before the earthquake had brought us here.
Nora had framed her poster of The Kiss by Gustav Klimt and hung it over her drawers. Asha and Arden had a few figurines from anime they watched on Earth. The athlete also had a couple of her medals from the races she’d won in college.
Olivia had a Venetian mask from a trip to Italy. It rested against one of Gwen’s many brass candlesticks she’d gotten at a medieval fair. The willowy brunette’s taste was the only thing that translated into Tullia’s style.
It was a cozy mix of our old and new lives, and it made the room feel more like our own rather than a dorm’s common room.
I flopped on the stack of pillows and comforters, and in a blink, was awoken by the sound of shuffling around me. The afternoon’s light had dimmed to a blue hue, and the room was lit with dancing candlelight. The fireplace was roaring, and its heat made it harder to roll out of bed.
“Wake up, sleepyhead,” Nora cooed.
Her finger jabbed my cheek, and I mumbled in protest. The familiar voices of the other women buzzed around the room.
“It’s Isaac’s Day,” Nora chuckled. “We can’t not have you at the party.”
I sat up, and ten pairs of eyes stared at me with amusement. The women were all dressed to the nines in gowns that hugged their forms nicely, and made their tits look like they were about to spill over their necklines.
“You’re all so beautiful,” I said with a sincere smile and swung my feet off the mattress.
