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Flight of the Raven Page 12
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“Thank you.” But she wasn’t sure if time or space would help.
Storm clouds rolled in across the city as Selene made her way to the main audience chamber, escorted by Taegis. Earlier, Essa had delivered an exquisite silk gown of white, with waves embroidered along the neckline and sleeves, along with a matching light blue cloak. After brushing her hair out, Essa had insisted she should wear it down. The black strands hung over her shoulders and fell to the embossed belt she wore around her waist.
Her fingers were cold as she grasped the inside of her sleeves. Taegis led her to a part of the castle she had not visited yet. He stood before the double doors, each side stationed with a guard, and glanced at Selene.
“Are you ready, my lady?”
Selene raised her chin. A kernel of fear burned deep within, but she held it at bay with the same iron determination that had seen her through the last few months. “I’m ready.”
Taegis opened the door.
She wasn’t sure what she was expecting. Maybe a chamber similar to the one back at Rook Castle, which was a large cavernous room with the denizens of lower houses and wealthy elite standing around a platform with a raised throne.
Instead, the audience hall was a long narrow chamber made of light grey stone, with stairs at the end that led to a throne made of glass. On either side of the throne were two large fish heads from which water flowed in a cascading waterfall to the waiting canals below. The canals wove between the columns and disappeared in grates near the double doors. The sound of rushing water reminded Selene of the mountain streams back home.
Behind the throne were three large windows the length of the wall, with a view of the wide-open sky, currently filled with the grey clouds of a brewing storm.
On the throne sat Damien, dressed in a deep blue tunic and sleeveless jacket, all covered by a bright blue cloak trimmed in silver. He stood the moment she walked in and held out his hand.
Selene made her way across the hall, noting the tiled pictures of the sea, sky, and beach across the floor. Her boots barely made a sound, and as she passed each column, she spotted people standing in the wings. It appeared the chamber had been constructed so that the focus of the person entering was on the throne and not those gathered.
She gathered her dress in one hand at the bottom of the stairs and made her way up to Damien. He gave her a soft smile that reached his unusually blue eyes.
In his gaze, the rest of the room vanished. All she could see was depths of blue, and she felt herself drowning inside of them.
The moment he touched her hand, a sizzling arc flashed across her fingers, causing the hair on her arms to rise. The sizzle intensified as he brought her hand up to his lips and kissed her knuckles.
Heat flooded her being, burning away any trace of icy coolness from minutes ago.
“Ready?” he asked quietly, warmth in his eyes.
Selene nodded dumbly, unable to speak. Dart’an! Where was her iron will? Her strength? She felt like a newborn foal on wobbly legs.
Damien stepped around the throne, her hand still in his, and led her behind the platform where a door stood beneath the windows. A guard stood on either side of the door, backs straight, hands at their sides.
As they approached, one moved and opened the door with a bow. “My lord. My lady,” he said.
Damien nodded toward the man and led Selene out onto a slim balcony that overlooked the city of Nor Esen. A salty wind picked up, tugging on her cloak and dress.
Selene looked down, her mind retreating into a numbing fog. Every street, every window, every tree was filled with people. Thousands of them. She couldn’t even see the cobblestones along the roads.
At their appearance, a roar broke out across the city. Articles of blue waved in the air, from kerchiefs and cloaks to blankets, banners, and even tiny ribbons.
A huge grin erupted across Damien’s face as he approached the stone railing and waved with his free hand. The crowd grew even more boisterous.
Selene watched in amazement. Due to Rook Castle’s location high up in the Magyr Mountains, special announcements were delivered to the villages and announced to a select few in the audience chamber. Never had she seen such a large crowd gathered before. And they seemed happy. Delighted. Even ecstatic to see Damien.
They loved him.
Selene felt like she had been punched in the gut. No one had ever reacted this way when meeting her mother. House Ravenwood was respected by the mountain people, yes. But it was also feared. Not loved. Not like this.
And Damien loved them back.
She could see it in the way he looked over the crowd, in the way he waved, in the smile that illuminated his face.
A rush of adrenaline washed over her, leaving her knees weak. She reached for the railing and clutched the top. Her head began to spin.
Damien’s hand tightened around her own. “Are you all right?” he asked as he finished waving.
“Yes.” Selene forced herself up, ignoring the cold sweat collecting across her back. The wind blew again, pulling her hood from her head and letting her hair fly around her face.
Damien watched her a moment longer before turning to address the crowd. “People of Nor Esen and the Northern Shores.” The people quieted and Selene wondered how much of Damien’s words they could actually hear.
“Let me present to you Lady Selene of House Ravenwood, my new wife.”
It took a moment for Damien’s words to spread across the crowd. The cheers began again, although not quite as loud. Selene reached up and tucked her hair behind her ear, unsure if she should wave or just stand there. She opted to stand there as Damien spoke for a little longer.
A few drops of rain splattered across the stone railing, and one hit the tip of her nose. She glanced up. It looked like the heavens were about to burst open. Damien finished his speech, waved again, and turned, his hand still in hers. A few more drops fell from the sky, and the wind picked up.
The door was open and waiting for them. Damien stepped back and motioned for her to enter first. As she walked by, he placed his hand on her back and gently guided her. Every nerve inside of her felt his contact, as if his hand was a hot poker pressing into her back.
“There is a special dinner tonight in our honor. Some of the same people you met last night will be there.”
“And who are they?”
Damien led her down the stairs, following the path of water that ran along either side of the walkway toward the doors ahead. The people in the wings were already filing out. “Members from a handful of lesser houses, some wealthy families whose source of income is trade, and people handpicked by me. And Taegis, of course. Do you need anything, or are you ready to head to the dining hall?”
“No, I’m ready.”
He kept his hand on her back, guiding her along the lit corridor. Two guards followed.
“So who exactly is Taegis?” Selene asked, still feeling the pressure of his fingers along her back. “A councilor? Captain?”
“He’s my guardian. And he was my father’s guardian before me. He acts as a personal bodyguard, counselor, and friend.”
“I see.” In some ways like Mother’s Hagatha, although Hagatha served more as a servant than a guardian.
“I don’t know what I would have done without him when my family passed away.” There was a hint of sadness in his voice. He cleared his throat. “By the way, you looked radiant standing there on the balcony.” His smile was back. “I think the people of Nor Esen approve of you.”
“Thank you,” she said as they turned a corner. But did he approve? She clenched her hand against her side as doubts flooded back into her mind. Did Damien want her? Now wasn’t the time, but eventually she was going to ask him, even if the answer was the one she feared, the one that haunted her nightmares. At least then she would know the truth.
I never wanted to marry you. I only married you to save myself.
14
Damien stood up from his desk and stretched his arms over his
head, giving each elbow a tug before dropping his hands. It had been two days since he had made the official announcement about his marriage to House Ravenwood and three days since he had sent messages to Houses Vivek, Luceras, and Merek. He didn’t expect a response for at least a moon cycle, given how far each house had to travel from Rook Castle back to their lands, but it was hard to wait. He wanted to know what had happened in their own words, and he wanted to confer with each house on what to do next. And the fact that both Lord Rune and Lady Runa had been assassinated by Lady Ragna Ravenwood needed to be worked through as well.
Speaking of . . .
He sighed and looked down at his desk, barely seeing the scattering of parchment across the wooden surface. It was time for him to approach Selene about her gift and find out what he could. He only hoped she would be willing. She had become cold and silent over the last couple of days, and he wasn’t sure why.
He shook his head and carefully stacked the parchments into one pile, then placed them on the right side of his desk. Perhaps she was in a state of grief and missing her home and family. Or perhaps the nightmares had returned.
“My lord?”
Damien looked up and found Taegis standing in the doorway. “Do you need me for anything this morning?”
“Yes.” Damien stepped around the desk. “I need a break. Would you care to spar?”
“How is your leg?”
Damien glanced down and rubbed the fabric above the area. “I’m still amazed at what Healer Sildaern can do. It’s completely healed, save for a small scar on my thigh.”
“That’s good to hear.”
Damien straightened up. “And he’s given me leave to go back to my usual routine, including exercise.”
Taegis took a step back and motioned for the door. “You lead and I’ll follow.”
The two men headed down the corridor toward the training room. “How is Lady Selene doing?” Taegis asked as they walked.
Damien let out a long breath. “She’s been quiet the last couple of days.”
“Ever since the announcement?”
“Yes.”
“Have you spoken to her?”
Damien shook his head. “I think she is grieving. I didn’t want to intrude.”
They entered the training room. Three guards were exercising near the back, beneath the high windows above. The smell of sweat and steel filled the air, along with the occasional grunt and pant. To the left of the doorway stood a table with practice swords and a jug of water.
The guards paused in their training and bowed toward Damien, who nodded in return. The guards resumed as Damien chose his sword and held it up in the air, inspecting the nicks along the wooden surface. The wooden weapon was not the same as his own sword, but it would do for today. Taegis chose the one next to it. Then they took up their position on the wooden floor, away from the guards.
It didn’t take Damien long to fall into the rhythm of sparring. With each move, his muscles grew warm and limber and his chest expanded. It felt good to exercise, to give his mind a break and feel the strength of his body.
“Have you thought about sparring with Lady Selene?” Taegis asked after acquiescing to one of Damien’s moves an hour later.
Damien lowered his sword and blinked. “Lady Selene?”
“Yes.” Taegis wiped his brow before continuing. “Do you remember seeing her ladyship exercise in the small training area when we were at Rook Castle? Perhaps doing something familiar would help her with her loss. And it would give you a chance to spend time with her.” He eyed Damien as he spoke those last few words.
Heat filled Damien’s face. Why hadn’t he thought of that? It seemed Taegis was more aware of the needs of his wife than he was. “You’re right,” he said, swallowing down his hurt pride. “But what would the servants or guards say if they saw Selene fighting?”
Taegis snorted. “Does it matter?”
No, it didn’t matter. What mattered was Selene. “I’ll see if she is interested. In fact, I’ll look for her once I’ve had a chance to wash up. Do you know where I can find her?”
“She was in the library this morning.”
“Then I shall head there shortly.”
Taegis bowed his head. “Very good.”
Damien headed toward the table, then stopped beside Taegis and placed a hand on the older man’s shoulder. “Thank you, Taegis. I sometimes feel like I have no idea what I’m doing when it comes to this marriage.” He hadn’t meant to be so open, but with Taegis it was easy to do.
Taegis turned and looked at him. “As you know, I have no experience with that kind of bonding. But I imagine that for any marriage to work, it’s about the relationship. Study her, know what she likes, dislikes, what makes her heart race, and what would make her heart break. You cannot work or fight alongside someone you do not know and care for, and that goes for marriage as well.”
Damien laughed and dropped his hand. “Why didn’t you marry, Taegis? I think you would have made some woman very happy.”
Taegis smiled and shook his head. “My desire has always been to serve House Maris. And I always will, wholeheartedly.”
Damien let out his breath. “I’m thankful for your service. I don’t know what I would have done without your advice and guidance.”
“You would have been fine. You have a good and strong heart, my lord. Just like your father. And you have his faith.”
His father’s faith? Damien mentally shook his head. Hardly. Father had believed in the Light more than anyone he knew, and it had showed. If he could have half the faith his father did, then perhaps he would not worry so much about leading his people.
Damien quickly washed up and changed his clothes before crossing Northwind Castle to the first-floor library. At the door, he spotted Karl.
“My lord,” Karl said with a quick bow of his head.
“Karl, I didn’t realize you were back.”
“Yes, my lord. Sten and I returned last night. We reported everything to Captain Baran.”
“And the men?”
“Locked up in Clonah until Captain Baran can send a contingent of soldiers to pick them up.”
Damien nodded. “I’m interested in finding out who exactly they were. Let Captain Baran know I would like to be informed the moment he discovers who those men are.” He glanced at the door. “Is Lady Selene in the library?”
“Yes. I was assigned to her today.” His face remained passive as he reached over and opened the door.
Damien entered the room. Rows of bookcases stood on either side of the room. Ancient parchments rolled up in protective metal tubes, thick tomes, and leather-bound books lined the shelves. Between the shelves were narrow windows, allowing a small amount of light into the room—enough to see by, but not so much that it would damage the books. The room was cool and smelled of wood and parchment.
It was a small library compared to the one owned by House Vivek, but it did boast of a rare collection of sketches and research conducted along the Northern Shores, information privy only to House Maris.
A blue runner ran between the bookcases, leading to the other side of the library. Damien silently walked along the runner, glancing down every row, searching for a familiar head of black hair and feminine features. At the end of the rows, he stepped off the runner and looked to his left, where a small alcove was built into the wall and four arched windows overlooked the cliffs to the north of the castle. Selene sat on a blue cushion next to one of the windows, her legs drawn up beneath her simple gown, her face pressed against the glass, the book in her hand forgotten. Her hair was pulled into a braid that hung over one shoulder down to her waist. She didn’t appear to have heard him.
Damien stood still. His eyes traveled from the book she held—curious as to which volume it was—to the way her face was pressed to the window and wondered what held her interest. Then his eyes trailed to her hair. He wanted to untie the end of her braid and touch the long black strands and see if they felt as silky as they looked. And
the curve of her neck . . .
Damien glanced away and cleared his throat, both to alert Selene to his presence and to tear his mind away from the path it was traveling down. Now was not the time. Eventually, when things weren’t so cold and awkward between them. Not that he was feeling very cold at the moment . . .
He looked up and caught Selene staring at him, leaving his mouth dry.
“I didn’t hear you enter,” she said as she closed the book and stood.
How could that one movement look so enticing?
“Lord Damien?”
“I wanted to ask you something.” Words poured out of his mouth as he reeled in his thoughts.
“Yes?”
“What were you reading?” he blurted out.
“Reading?” Selene looked down as if seeing the book in her hands for the first time. She turned it around and glanced at the cover. “The Campaigns of Tolrun.”
Damien frowned. “You were reading a book about Commander Tolrun?”
“Yes. I wanted to know more about the man who led the first razing of the Dominia Empire. We do not have this volume at Rook Castle. I had no idea about the acts of brutality he committed against the eastern side of the continent. Large-scale slaughters, wiping out local populations . . . It’s a miracle most of our people and lands survived.” Selene rubbed her forehead, her eyes still set on the book in her hand. “If the empire was that dangerous then”—she locked eyes with him—“what are they capable of now?”
Damien turned his gaze away from Selene and stared out the window to her right. Even hundreds of years later, Commander Tolrun was still seen as a hero to the people of the Dominia Empire. Commander Orion was walking the same path as his predecessor, gaining the accolades and prestige of the people of the empire. Orion elevated the common man, allowing his soldiers to retain the spoils of war and have a part in how the empire was governed. In a way, Damien understood Commander Orion’s methods. Damien wanted the same rights and respect for his own people, hence the coalition his father had started and that he continued. But not at the expense of other people. Never that.
He turned his attention back to Selene. “That’s why I’m doing what I can to bring the Great Houses together, so we can be ready for when the empire comes. Does this have anything to do with House Ravenwood’s gift?”