were.
“My father would never think to leave me out of meetings.” Father had included her in all aspects of running the House of Song and the outlying village. A sickening wave of melancholy overcame her. She missed his quiet, noble poise more than anything. She could use a measure of it herself.
“Perhaps they do not wish to bother you right before the wedding.” Cadence tapped the back of her hand encouragingly.
“Bother me? They’ve managed to do enough of that already.”
“Shhhh.” Cadence glanced at the guards. “You never know who’s listening.”
“Let them listen. They can teach these warriors proper manners.”
Cadence threw her hands in her lap. “Honestly, I’m not sure what Echo wants me to do. ’Tis like leading a blind goat across a cliff side.”
Valoria narrowed her gaze. “What did he put you up to?”
Her handmaiden pouted, guilt saddening her eyes. “He wanted to make sure you…followed through.”
“Followed through? Who does he think I am? The Queen of Ebonvale?”
“For Helena’s sake, pipe down.”
Guilt panged in her gut. She shouldn’t have spoken ill of her future mother-in-law. Hadn’t she told Nathaniel she didn’t judge others? Valoria behaved better than this. Circumstances had unraveled her just like the edges of that dusty tapestry of some forgotten king on the far wall.
The guards moved away from the door, and the large slabs of oak opened with a creak. The king and queen burst through, followed by a retinue of advisors. A woman so old, she could have been a ghost drifted past. Her long, white hair trailed to her ankles. Bone thin with wrinkled withered skin, she clung to a young man’s arm as if she’d fall to pieces without his strength.
Was that Sybil, the mother of the queen who’d run away with the minstrel so many years ago? It was hard to believe one waif of an old woman was the source for unending minstrel hatred.
Valoria was here to end that prejudice, to unite the kingdoms, to undo the seed that old woman had sown. If only it hadn’t grown so monumentally large.
Nathaniel emerged next. His uniform was rumpled, and a bloodied bandage wrapped around his right hand. He looked as though he’d been up all night.
Despite Cadence pulling on her arm, Valoria broke free and approached him.
He regarded her with welcome surprise. “Valoria. I did not know you were here.”
All of her frustration melted away. She touched his hand. “You’re hurt. What happened?”
Nathaniel glanced back into the room uneasily. “I am certain Brax will inform you.”
She clutched his arm, refusing to release him. The wool of his uniform felt coarse under her fingers, a barrier she could not cross. “Tell me now.”
Nathaniel sighed as though he knew he was in the wrong but could not deny her. He pulled her aside by the tapestry. “One of the raiders escaped. I cut my hand while chasing after him.”
“Is this why they had a meeting without me?”
“No.” He glanced again at the room. Indecision crossed his amber-brown eyes.
She pulled him closer. “Please.”
Nathaniel leaned down to her, so close their foreheads almost touched, and whispered, “Spies from the north have crossed into our territory. It seems the next threat to Ebonvale is closer than we thought.”
“The north?” Disbelief shocked her, followed by a dark dread, which settled in her bones. Had she awoken the threat when she called on the northern lands for help?
Nathaniel pulled away abruptly as Brax entered the corridor.
“Valoria, I must speak with you.” Brax’s voice was blunt and businesslike, as if he called on a servant.
Valoria glanced back for Nathaniel. He’d disappeared in the crowd. The old woman stared at her with large, knowing eyes that bored into her soul and upturned all her secrets. Valoria turned back to Brax and cut through the crowd. Anything to escape the old woman’s eyes.
She reached him and followed him into the council chamber. Ebonvale’s purple
“My father would never think to leave me out of meetings.” Father had included her in all aspects of running the House of Song and the outlying village. A sickening wave of melancholy overcame her. She missed his quiet, noble poise more than anything. She could use a measure of it herself.
“Perhaps they do not wish to bother you right before the wedding.” Cadence tapped the back of her hand encouragingly.
“Bother me? They’ve managed to do enough of that already.”
“Shhhh.” Cadence glanced at the guards. “You never know who’s listening.”
“Let them listen. They can teach these warriors proper manners.”
Cadence threw her hands in her lap. “Honestly, I’m not sure what Echo wants me to do. ’Tis like leading a blind goat across a cliff side.”
Valoria narrowed her gaze. “What did he put you up to?”
Her handmaiden pouted, guilt saddening her eyes. “He wanted to make sure you…followed through.”
“Followed through? Who does he think I am? The Queen of Ebonvale?”
“For Helena’s sake, pipe down.”
Guilt panged in her gut. She shouldn’t have spoken ill of her future mother-in-law. Hadn’t she told Nathaniel she didn’t judge others? Valoria behaved better than this. Circumstances had unraveled her just like the edges of that dusty tapestry of some forgotten king on the far wall.
The guards moved away from the door, and the large slabs of oak opened with a creak. The king and queen burst through, followed by a retinue of advisors. A woman so old, she could have been a ghost drifted past. Her long, white hair trailed to her ankles. Bone thin with wrinkled withered skin, she clung to a young man’s arm as if she’d fall to pieces without his strength.
Was that Sybil, the mother of the queen who’d run away with the minstrel so many years ago? It was hard to believe one waif of an old woman was the source for unending minstrel hatred.
Valoria was here to end that prejudice, to unite the kingdoms, to undo the seed that old woman had sown. If only it hadn’t grown so monumentally large.
Nathaniel emerged next. His uniform was rumpled, and a bloodied bandage wrapped around his right hand. He looked as though he’d been up all night.
Despite Cadence pulling on her arm, Valoria broke free and approached him.
He regarded her with welcome surprise. “Valoria. I did not know you were here.”
All of her frustration melted away. She touched his hand. “You’re hurt. What happened?”
Nathaniel glanced back into the room uneasily. “I am certain Brax will inform you.”
She clutched his arm, refusing to release him. The wool of his uniform felt coarse under her fingers, a barrier she could not cross. “Tell me now.”
Nathaniel sighed as though he knew he was in the wrong but could not deny her. He pulled her aside by the tapestry. “One of the raiders escaped. I cut my hand while chasing after him.”
“Is this why they had a meeting without me?”
“No.” He glanced again at the room. Indecision crossed his amber-brown eyes.
She pulled him closer. “Please.”
Nathaniel leaned down to her, so close their foreheads almost touched, and whispered, “Spies from the north have crossed into our territory. It seems the next threat to Ebonvale is closer than we thought.”
“The north?” Disbelief shocked her, followed by a dark dread, which settled in her bones. Had she awoken the threat when she called on the northern lands for help?
Nathaniel pulled away abruptly as Brax entered the corridor.
“Valoria, I must speak with you.” Brax’s voice was blunt and businesslike, as if he called on a servant.
Valoria glanced back for Nathaniel. He’d disappeared in the crowd. The old woman stared at her with large, knowing eyes that bored into her soul and upturned all her secrets. Valoria turned back to Brax and cut through the crowd. Anything to escape the old woman’s eyes.
She reached him and followed him into the council chamber. Ebonvale’s purple
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