Sworn To Raise: Courtlight #1 (25 page)

“Aye, Sire.”

Sebastian swallowed hard. His father’s face was expressionless, neither disbelieving nor angered. They waited in tense silence while the commander tested the necklace and returned it to the Emperor’s hands after a brief inspection. “It’s as the young prince says, Sire. It has residual ties leading even now to his mage core.”

“Break the ties, then,” the Emperor said.

“They’re already dissipating on their own, Father.” Sebastian stood facing him, waiting for some sign—
any
sign—that he hadn’t known.

Finally, the Emperor wiped a tired hand on his face. “I don’t know how this came to be, Sebastian. The mage power within the locket—yes, I knew that some power was there—was intended for use only as a reserve. I have never had to consciously call upon it, and I certainly never knew that it was tied to you.”

A shudder went through the Emperor at that moment, and he dropped to his knees with a quick gasp of pain. The commander was by his side in moments, carefully tending to the ruler.

Sebastian knelt by his father’s side, clutching his hand. By then, the Emperor had collapsed entirely.

“There’s much you don’t know, son,” the Emperor said with a brittle laugh. “But for now, I don’t have time to explain.” Another shudder wracked his body. “You and…your friend…have freed up…the power of the Land Wight, which I should have had the courage to do myself…years ago,” the Emperor stated. “Now that it is done, the power is surging through the land and breaking the…pacts I’ve had in place with the others.”

“
Others
?” said Sebastian sharply.

“That is not for your knowledge,” said his father, catching his breath at last and struggling to his feet. “Not yet. I must deal with this immediately
.
You have regained your birthright and everything pertaining thereunto. You have my congratulations. Attend to the festivities, and we will discuss your duties at a later point,” the Emperor commanded.

Sebastian felt frustration and ire flash through him. He wanted to know
now
; he didn’t care to be turned away. But he had no choice. He bowed stiffly and was escorted out. Once back in the main salon, Sebastian motioned for the other nobles to leave the room and went with the Master of Ceremonies to ensure that the grounds were cleared of all potential threats.

Never once did he so much as look at Ciardis.

Even Damias regarded her in disappointment.

Then Serena lost it. “How could you do this to us, you ungrateful wretch?”

Damias winced, but said nothing.

“I…I didn’t know. The prince needed my help, and I couldn’t refuse,” she whispered, bowing her head.

“The prince needed your
help
?” Serena said cruelly. “He needs everyone’s help—the brat is useless! Did he not tell you that his father has issued orders for him to abdicate his place in the succession?”

“Well, no, but—”

“Ah, so he
also
didn’t tell you that this abdication will take place tomorrow,” said Serena. “Whatever he promised you—wealth, titles, land—he has
no
claim to it. You gave up a place as the premier Companion Trainee and a place within the Companion’s Guild for nothing.”

“Serena, I never intended to take anything from him. He has asked for nothing—” And then Ciardis stopped suddenly, finally understanding Serena’s words. “Given up?” she said. This time, Damias would not look at her at all, instead staring out the window with single-minded intensity.

“Your contract as a trainee with the Companion’s Guild has been terminated, effective immediately,” said Serena.

Ciardis gasped in horror.

“Serena, please,” begged Ciardis, all pretense gone, “I…I…General Barnaren has indicated his interest, and so has Viscount Marce. They are both credits to the Companion’s Guild!”

“They are not enough,” snapped Serena. “As I’ve said before, your other Patron candidates have withdrawn. Now show
some
dignity.”

At that moment, the carriage stopped and Serena leapt out. As she walked away, she said over her shoulder, “Your things are packed. You’ll be on your way to Vaneis within the hour.”

As Ciardis turned to look for Damias she saw he was already out the other door. “Coward!” she shouted, furious. She sat down heavily on the carriage steps, her mind filled with anger.

“Hey, lass,” called the driver, “We have to move. Off with you.”

She stood up and moved away from the conveyance. With a flick of his whip, the driver urged the horses towards the barn.

In a daze, she made her way back to her room, where—true to Serena’s word—three trunks sat in the middle of the room, packed and ready to go.

Kneeling in front of one, she opened it and gazed at all the court dresses bought for her by the Companions Guild and the books she’d collected over her months in Sandrin. Sighing, she stood up and dusted off her hands. She eyed the dirt caked on her palms with disgust.
I might as well take one last shower.

After unpacking a simple tunic and trousers, she went and did just that. Towards the end, hot water running down her back and shampoo in her hair—which had taken forever to unbraid—she luxuriated in the soothing hot water for the last time. Then, rinsing off and grabbing a towel, she prepared to step out of the shower. She felt around on the side of the tub for her towel, which was supposed to be hanging on the wall hook.

“Here,” said a voice, and someone handed her the towel. Ciardis bit back a scream, snatching the towel in a rush to cover her nakedness. When she finally placed the voice, she screamed, “How
dare
you! This is my private bathing area, Sebastian! What the hell are you doing in here?”

“If you could stop screaming for just a second—”

“You certainly left me without so much as a word earlier—”

“Ciardis, really…”

“Get out!”

“I can’t.”

“Why? Do you need my
help
again?” she sneered, stepping out of the tub to grab a second towel for her hair.

“Don’t say it like that.”

“Like what?”

“Like you’re somehow worthless,” he snapped.

“Well, let’s see,” she said, moving around the bathroom, “My patrons have abandoned me, my prince
lied
to me, I’ve been kicked out of the Companion’ Guild—oh, and a person I
thought
was a friend left me in the Emperor’s audience room without so much as a goodbye.”

Sebastian turned around and around, following her as she paced in a circle. “I didn’t abandon you, I
am
your friend, and I never lied to you,” he protested.

“Oh no?” she scoffed. “My sources say otherwise. You also neglected to mention that you’re about to be disinherited!”

“I
was
about to be disinherited, but that was contingent upon my not regaining my powers. Thanks to you, I have my powers back in full.”

“Right,” she said, stopping suddenly. “So—you owe me?”

“Right. Wait…what?”

“You. Owe. Me.”

“I might agree to
help
you,” he said haughtily.

“You stubborn bastard! Let’s cut the shit. I’m being kicked out of the Companions Guild. I need you to do something about that. Without me, you wouldn’t have been able to break the locket’s embrace
or
connect it to the Grand Vizier.”

Sebastian looked at her with a face eerily similar to his father’s: aloof and cold, though much younger. “Fine,” he said softly, “Consider it done.”

Within the hour, her candidacy was reinstated, invitations were received to dine with Princess Heir Marissa of Sandrin
and
Initiate Soundsoar of the Madrassa that night, an ambitious General was already making his rounds in the Companion’s Guild, and all of it was done with the conspicuous absence of Viscount Iskas of Marce.

After hours of insipid conversation with Damias—who had the grace to at least
look
ashamed about abandoning her—and Serena—who acted like nothing more untoward had happened than a misplaced hairpin—Ciardis decided to prepare herself for the night’s dinner.

The Princess Heir and Initiate Soundsoar had agreed to host the dinner together, leaving Ciardis intrigued. She knew of no Companion with more than one Patron, but there was a first time for everything.

The invitation had been specific: she was to come in loose but comely attire. She chose a short but airy dress with cap sleeves, room for a small back sheath, and sandals that laced up her calves. The light blue color complimented her dusky skin well, and the moonstone and sapphire Aether bracelet flashed on her ankle. She had yet to take it off.

Night had already fallen when they arrived at the Princess Heir’s palace. Ciardis and Damias descended from the carriage. A chamberlain hurried forward a moment later to show them to the dining suite.

A long, low table was laden with foods and wine of every variety. At the head of the table sat a beautiful woman with a riot of black, curly hair and skin the color of walnuts. She wore gold bangles on her wrist and her neck, while her face was beautifully made up.

“She’s stunning,” Ciardis whispered to Damias as they walked toward where the woman sat.

He surveyed their hostess with a critical eye before muttering, “She’s on the market.”

Ciardis laughed. “So am I. What does that make the pair of us?”

“Two beautiful women who could take the Summer Imperial dances by storm,” interjected a man with a booming voice.

Ciardis gasped in surprise and Damias grinned, turning to greet the man walking toward them. The voice belonged to the same man she’d met in the Imperial gardens ages ago – Lord Aaron.

“Soundsoar,” he exclaimed, “It’s been too long.”

“You haven’t changed, Damias,” he said, and they gripped hands in the odd way that men do.

“Ciardis Weathervane, may I present Lord Soundsoar?” Damias said with a grand bow.

Soundsoar looked at her and winked. Ciardis blushed, “It’s an honor to meet you, milord.”

“And you, as well, my dear. I hear that you have
quite
the interesting tale to tell.”

Ciardis nodded politely in acknowledgement and Soundsoar gestured to the head of the table, where Princess Heir Marissa awaited them casually.

Ciardis walkd to the head of the table to great the woman. She heard Damias say behind her, “After you, milord.”

As she approached the reclining princess, Ciardis dipped into a gentle curtsy. “Milady, it pleases me to make your acquaintance.”

The princess sat up languidly and then stood. With the subtle movement of a snake, she circled around Ciardis, looking her over from head to toe. Finally, she met her eyes.

“Well, well, the rumors are true…a beautiful Weathervane has come to grace the Court of Sandrin.”

“At your service, Your Imperial Highness.”

A bright laugh like glass shards falling on a polished floor escaped from the princess’s mouth. Ciardis felt a bit of uneasy – the Princess Heir’s voice was familiar to her too. But she couldn’t place from where.

“You certainly shall be.”

Turning abruptly, she called for her retainers. Servants poured into the room from hidden doors, holding trays laden with soups, salads, appetizers, and cakes. The table soon groaned under the weight of the additional food.

She raised a glass in a toast to a successful evening.

Hours later, dazed but proud with her successful evening with the Princess Heir and Lord Soundsoar, Ciardis asked, “Milady, I beg that you appease my curiosity. You are princess heir to which province, if I might ask? It’s one of the fascinating subjects not covered in my dossiers.”

Ciardis was a little tipsy, or she would have noticed the flash of anger in the woman’s eyes.

With a smile masking her ire, the Princess Heir raised her glass of wine. “Why, the whole of the Algardis Kingdom, my dear.”

Ciardis glanced over at Damias in confusion. He looked just as uncertain. She turned back to the Princess Heir just in time to see a flash of mage power out of the corner of her eye.

I thought those damn mage sight flashes were supposed to go away?

Then she felt the bind of bands of air across her throat. She couldn’t breathe.

And then she knew no more.