By Fire and Flood, page 22
“That’s not how Lord Raenon sees it.” The mention of the Makani patriarch had Trey’s eyes shuttering.
“And how,” he practically spat the accusation, “would Lord Raenon have come to learn of her presence at all?” Waera’s deep eyes narrowed to study him.
“You should consider yourself lucky that the family is still unaware of her identity,” he said steadily. Tryamon jerked his chin in challenge. How had the man known?
“She’s just some girl that I met and tried to help,” he snapped, meeting the other man’s eyes with a glare. Waera just shook his head with a low laugh.
“You’re a fool,” he said. Trey felt the first sparks of rage shock in his chest, and he knew that he needed to rein in his temper. He tugged on that internal leash, banking it like an untamed stallion as his teeth gritted with the effort. He took a step toward the older man, and in the next moment, he found himself pinned against the wall, Waera’s face close to his own as he gripped his chin in a hand and forced Trey to look into his face.
“I could incinerate you where you stand,” Trey snarled. Waera’s eyes narrowed.
“We both know that isn’t the case,” Waera said smoothly. Tryamon jerked against him, but a sharp blade prodded against his ribs, freezing him in place. “I see no reason for Lord Raenon to learn of Lady Nissa’s identity while she is here. This alliance isn’t her mess. But remember, boy, my loyalty is to the House of Makani, and I will do whatever it takes to protect their interests.” Trey let out another wordless snarl at the threat, taking a step back as Waera suddenly released him and sheathed his knife.
“Some loyalty you have, to conceal her identity in the first place,” Trey challenged, suddenly reckless. An answering gust of wind slapped across his cheek in answer as Waera’s eyes glittered with dark power.
“Don’t test me. Even my patience has limits,” he met the challenge coldly. “Get to the throne room. They want to see you.” Without so much as a backward glance, Waera swept up one of the staircases to the right, the steps shining as the last rays of sun met the stone.
With a low growl of frustration, Trey whirled around and stalked in the direction of the large, carved doors that he knew would open to the Makani throne room. Disgust curled in his gut as he studied the carved design of the door, which looked as though it had been designed from the twisting caresses of the wind. It was a thing of beauty, but in that moment, he hated it, hated everything that that door and all that waited behind it symbolized. He placed one broad palm on the door and shoved.
Despite the darkness that snaked in from the high, vaulted windows, the room was softly lit by candle-flame. The stone tiles that made up the floor were patterned with shades of interspersed blue and yellow that overlapped as they led to the elevated dais at the far end of the room. Centered at that level were two, wooden thrones, designed in the same fashion as the carvings on the door. Two figures, dark skinned with rich hair that gleamed with lavender and gold jewels in the candlelight leveled him with matching, silver stares of silent observation. Two guards flanked each side of the dais, staring blankly ahead as Tryamon approached the Makani rulers with echoing footsteps.
“Lord Tryamon,” The man in the larger throne rose, regal robes of golden yellow shimmering against his shining skin. “You are very welcome here.” Despite the words, the man’s tone was cold, appraising. It was not hard to sense the presence of the tempest lurking beneath. Trey stopped as he reached the edge of the dais and inclined his head in a shallow bow.
“Lord Raenon. I'm honored to have returned to Sel’veren.” The words were hollow in his throat. Raenon raised a hand, his muscled arm unwavering as he held it in place, and a cutting wind sliced across Trey’s cheek as it swooped for the door behind him. The door slammed shut, and the sound rocked Trey’s core.
“I’m sure you are.” Trey tried not to bristle at the easy confidence in his voice. “You may rise.” He forced his face to remain neutral and disinterested as he surveyed the Governing Lord of the Air Realm. It would be impossible to guess his age; his face was miraculously unlined, despite years in power, there were no streaks of silver that looked out of place. Much like the city he occupied, Lord Raenon was timeless.
“You wanted to see me?” Trey asked mildly. Raenon’s expression did not falter.
“I’m certain you remember my daughter, Lady Aella.” There was a knowing glint in the lord’s eyes as he turned to beckon to the other figure who remained shrouded in shadow on the adjacent throne. Tryamon plastered an obligingly polite smile on his face as she rose, the thin fabric of her lavender gown all but glowing against her deep black skin. Her hair was wound into an intricate web of braids, twisting up but for one ringlet that curved brightly against one sharp cheekbone. She did not smile.
“We are pleased you have returned, Lord Tryamon.” Her voice was cold as she raised her chin against his scrutiny, baring the slim throat that rose in a column above her gown.
“It was kind of you to greet me,” he matched her formality, and one of her eyebrows lifted.
“And what of your companion?” Raenon rumbled again, “how does she like our fair city?” Alarm blazed in his chest at the mention of Nissa, but he fought to maintain an even expression as he tilted his head appraisingly to one side.
“I’m sure she finds it quite impressive. I’m afraid she was removed from my presence before I had the chance to ask her,” he said with a cold smile. Despite his best efforts, something must have shown on his face, because Aella shot him a sharp look. “She did not anticipate being welcomed into your home, Lord Raenon. I merely offered her protection as she traveled to the city.”
“So we have been informed,” Raenon answered mildly. “Since she was your companion for so many days, we thought it fitting to give her a proper welcome.” Trey’s blood ran cold as Raenon’s face yielded nothing of what a proper greeting entailed. Aella tilted her head to one side as she surveyed him.
“I shall enjoy getting to know her,” she said finally in a voice that was as smooth as silk.
“I’m sure Miss Broffet will be honored,” he replied, inclining his head to his fiancée again as his mind reeled. She nodded at him, and the faintest glimmer of hope broke through the chill in his veins.
“Go rest and recover from your travels, Prince of Flames,” Trey bristled at the title as Raenon spoke again. “We will see you for breakfast in the morning.”
39
The rooms Nissa was given were surprisingly nice. Open and airy, the pale stone arched and rose high above her, and the two windows that rested in one gave her a nice view of the city beyond it—the city where she might have been free. Nissa sighed as she surveyed the expanse, smoothing out a ripple in the light, floaty fabric of the dress she had been lent. The ivory cloth was lovely. This was a gilded cage, but it was still a cage.
A knock at the door stumbled her out of her weary thoughts, and she turned, the skirts of the fabric dancing upon the air with the movement. She pulled open the door to reveal a pale, thin woman who looked to be only a few years older than her. The woman’s large, dark eyes rounded as they took each other in for a few moments.
“Miss… Broffet?” the woman asked uncertainly. She was clad in a dress of the same floaty material as Nissa’s, although hers was a pale blue. Something about her was familiar, but Nissa could not put her finger on what it was.
“Yes?” she asked, fixing what she hoped was a pleasant smile on her face. The woman brushed a lock of white-blonde hair out of her face and smiled in return, although the expression didn’t fully reach her eyes.
“My name is Liana. I’m a guest here as well. I thought you might like some company.” Recognition roared through her at the introduction. This was Liana Noor. They had met before, years ago. She masked her shock and horror as she inclined her head with a wider smile.
“It’s a pleasure to meet you. Call me Elyssa,” she said, inwardly reeling. The last time she had seen Liana had been at one of the few summits between the realms, when she had been presented to their neighbors after the manifestation of her powers. Liana had been there, alongside her fair-featured mother. She had been quiet, but she had been kind. While Calanis Noor had been a guest at in Danuil occasionally in the years since, Nissa had not seen Liana again… until now. For her to be in Sel’veren, Nissa knew that it meant she was beginning to shoulder other responsibilities as her mother’s heir. It was preparation for the responsibilities she would have in the years to come; the Light Realm maintained a friendly relationship with all of the others. That was no guarantee that Liana would be an ally to Nissa personally.
“It’s so nice to meet you, Elyssa,” Liana’s smile widened, reaching her eyes this time. “Have you eaten yet?” Nissa shook her head.
“Not yet; I wasn’t quite sure where to go for breakfast,” she admitted. They had left Nissa alone after bringing her to her rooms, and no one had come back. “I’m not even sure if I’m allowed to leave.”
“Nonsense,” Liana stepped forward and linked her arm with Nissa’s. “You’re a guest here just as much as I am.” Nissa felt herself relax; Liana hadn’t recognized her.
“How did you come to be in Sel’veren?” Nissa chanced to ask the question as they made their way down yet another twisting hallway. Liana let out a musical laugh.
“Family business. My mother is… she has business with the Governing Lord, and she sent me to oversee it this time. Part of her trying to pass the torch one of these days.” She shrugged, and Nissa stared.
“That sounds like a lot of responsibility. Where are you from?” Nissa asked, feigning ignorance. Liana waved a hand.
“Nerafell,” she answered, making a face.
“The Light Realm is a long way to travel on business,” Nissa said cautiously. Liana shrugged again.
“That’s what I told my mother, but she said that travel was the cost of doing business,” she sighed, gesturing at the walls around them. “At least it’s pretty here. Last month, she had me traipsing all over the Midlands, and they weren’t nearly as accommodating.” Nissa blinked at her candor, at the naked openness of someone who didn’t have anything to lose.
“It is beautiful,” she admitted.
“So, how’d you come to be traveling with Tryamon Brandell?” Liana wiggled her eyebrows at her, and Nissa stiffened. Ah, so that’s the reason she came. At least she gets directly to the point.
“He was my escort. We were both traveling to Sel’veren, and he offered me protection since I was by myself.” That was the story, and Nissa was determined to stick to it. She half-expected the other woman to express her doubts, but there was no suspicion in Liana’s face as they entered what Nissa assumed was a hall for dining.
“You’re lucky!” Liana said. Nissa wrinkled her nose in confusion, and Liana must have noticed, because in the next moment she said, “I’ve never known Tryamon Brandell to do anything for anybody that he didn’t have to.” Nissa looked away, shrugging. The sentiment was not a surprise; she had thought the same thing before.
“I was surprised, but maybe I misjudged him.”
“Maybe we both did,” Liana allowed. Nissa glanced around the spacious room, at the tables striped the floor in long rows, leading up to a spectacular table of shining, polished stone that rested upon a dais. Four chairs of equal sheen rested behind it, looking down upon the rest of the room. Mercifully, they were empty.
“That must be a nightmare to clean,” she muttered to herself. A peal of laughter rang from the woman beside her, and Nissa turned to see Liana had doubled over, face split by a wide smile as her eyes squinted in mirth.
“You’re funny. I think we’re going to be fast friends.” Nissa found herself smiling in return. She followed Liana’s lead as the other woman found them seats at one of the tables and placed a polite order with the servant who rushed forward to attend them. Across the room, she caught a glimpse of Tanyl and Baloriel with heads bent in discussion. Tanyl caught her eye and nudged Baloriel, who nodded at her in acknowledgment before returning to their conversation. Their food materialized in front of them in what felt like minutes, carried by additional servants who had seemingly been waiting in the wings. Nissa blinked down at the breakfast feast in front of her. Whatever the Makanis were as rulers of a rival realm, they ran an efficient house. She dug in, chatting with Liana between bites and listening to the dull hum of breakfast conversation as more people trickled into the hall, laughing as Liana descriptively introduced each one with stories that she knew had to be embellished. She was still chuckling at one of her more lewd comments when a silence swept the room. Liana’s eyes rounded as she stared at something behind Nissa’s shoulder, and she turned slowly to face it as the back of her neck prickled beneath the cord of the obsidian pendant.
Facing her now was a tall, leanly muscled woman in a dress the color of a pale, yellow dawn. The floating material offset against her gleaming, black skin, drawing Nissa’s eyes upward to where silver eyes shone from beneath dark brows. The woman’s tightly coiled curls were bound at the nape of her neck, framing angular cheekbones as she stared down at Nissa with a contemplative expression. Nissa found herself rising. This could only be one woman, Lady Aella. The Air Realm’s prodigal daughter was two years younger than her, and as a result, Nissa had never seen her, since her father had not allowed her to attend the summit when Aella’s abilities manifested. The air of quiet authority left little chance of her being anyone else. Nissa dipped into a shallow curtsy, bending respectfully at the neck.
“Lady Aella, good morning!” Liana chirped from beside her. “I was just getting to know your new guest.” Aella’s silver eyes flicked over to Liana and warmed slightly before they refocused on Nissa and her expression dropped by several degrees.
“Thank you for your hospitality, Lady Aella.” Nissa hated the deference she had to force into her tone. If they had met as equals, both daughters to governing lords, there would have been none. As Elyssa Broffet, however, she had no such rank. Aella inclined her head.
“You are welcome here. Lord Tryamon was kind to offer you protection during your journey. We are pleased to be an extension of his kindness.” There was no emotion in the flat formality of her response.
“You are kind,” Nissa said, because there was really no other way to respond to that. Aella considered her a moment more before she swept away, trailing her shimmering skirts behind her. Nissa released the breath that she had held.
“That went well,” Liana commented, popping a small, round fruit into her mouth.
“Is she always so…?” Nissa trailed off. Liana let out a light laugh as she lowered her voice.
“Yes. If you knew her father, you’d understand.” Nissa winced. She knew a thing or two about overbearing fathers. A thought crossed her mind, and Nissa froze. Lord Raenon was Aella’s father. He had been there, all those years ago, when Nissa’s powers had manifested, and she was here, staying in his house. If he recognized her— She’d thought to avoid him, but she supposed she’d been foolish to think it was possible in his own house.
“Elyssa?” Liana’s concerned voice yanked her from her spiral of thoughts, and she faced the other woman, pushing her plate ahead of her.
“I think I’m finished eating,” she said as calmly as she could manage. Liana cocked her head to one side, a lock of her white-blonde hair falling into her deep brown eyes. She brushed it away impatiently.
“Are you alright?”
“Fine. I just wanted to get some air.” Nissa said with a reassuring smile.
“There’s a courtyard off this level of the house. It has a lovely garden, and it’s not ever very crowded if you want some time to yourself,” Liana offered, understanding smoothing across the concern on her brow. Nissa nodded gratefully.
“That sounds perfect.” She pushed back from the table and rose, nodding a farewell to Liana once the woman gave her directions. She fought to keep her pace leisurely as she moved to exit the room, and she glanced down at her feet as one of her shoes scuffed against an uneven stone. A shadow fell across her path, and when her eyes jerked up to behold the source, they found twin pools of amber gazing down at her.
“Elyssa,” Trey greeted, his mouth set into tight, formal lines as he surveyed her. She froze for a moment before she remembered herself, dipping into a quick curtsy.
“Lord Tryamon. I hope you’re well this morning.” Nissa allowed her voice to carry.
“And you,” he answered, his expression darkening as he focused on something behind her. Nissa danced from foot to foot as they stood in silence.
“I was just going to explore the gardens. Lady Liana says they’re quite lovely.” She hated the dryness of the subject. Trey nodded absently for a moment before his eyes found hers again.
“I hope you can enjoy many hours of peace there,” he replied, tilting his head ever so slightly. Her eyes narrowed incrementally, and Trey looked beyond her again. “Enjoy your day.” He swept past her, and Nissa did not turn to follow him with her eyes as she continued on her path from the hall. The dizzying weight of countless eyes bored into her back as she kept her head high.
40
Trey swore as he surveyed the apparently-empty garden, the curse at odds with the setting of blossoms and vines that draped across the walls. He’d hoped that Nissa would still be spending time there, but breakfast had run long and Raenon had demanded his attention for longer than expected. Aella had left breakfast shortly after he had arrived, but Vulred had unexpectedly appeared just as the conversation with Raenon was winding down, bearing a message from his mother. The contents of the letter had led to other discussions about the terms of their alliance. He kicked his boot at a nearby bucket, which toppled over with a clang and spun, prepared to leave the garden when a cough sounded from behind him.
“Temper, temper.” Nissa stepped out of the garden as he whirled around again and stopped, crossing her tanned arms over her chest as a smile played on her lips. The dress that she wore, a shade just slightly off of white, accented the depth of her sun-kissed complexion, and the motion pulled the fabric against the curve of her silhouette. Trey blinked at her, caught off-guard.
