Orphan's Blade. Aubrie Dionne

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СКАЧАТЬ the street, then paused. Perhaps she’d done this on purpose to show the effort and the loss the minstrels had poured into this union. Who was he to take that away and pretty her up like some prize to be won?

      “Very well.” He signaled to the soldiers at the door and offered his arm. She placed her hand on his armor, light as a feather, and he led her back outside where her retinue waited. The minstrels still able to play began their fanfares, and they walked to the throne room.

      When they were out of earshot from the others, Valoria turned toward him. “Tell me about your brother.”

      Nathaniel kept the emotion from his face. What could he tell her and still be truthful without driving her away?

      “Brax is a strong and proud man, and a born leader. He has a clear vision of what Ebonvale should be and fights for that ideal every day of his life.”

      Valoria pursed her lips as if he’d told her nothing she wanted to hear. “Is he kind-hearted?”

      Nathaniel resisted the urge to flinch. Kind was not the appropriate word to describe Brax. “He has a strong sense of justice.”

      “That is not the same thing.”

      “No.” But it would have to do.

      They climbed the marble-veined steps to Helena and Horred’s ancient temple. Most of the rock had been reconstructed or replaced, but a few of the great steps of the past remained. Nathaniel always felt honored to walk upon them.

      They entered the main antechamber and climbed the spiral steps to the main hall above. Paintings of the previous monarchs and their families adorned the walls. Valoria studied each one carefully. Why not give her some information that might help her at court later on?

      Nathaniel pointed to the first painting. “This was King Artemis Rubystone, slayer of the great Necromancer King, and ruler of Ebonvale for twenty-five years.” He motioned to the painting beside it, this one framed in rubies and gold. “Here is his first wife, Islador of the Northern Isles. She died of a fever only a year after they married, but he never stopped loving her memory.”

      “So I’ve heard.” Valoria raised an eyebrow.

      He wondered if she knew the king’s undying love for Islador had driven his second wife into the minstrel’s arms. “This is his second wife, Sybil of Jamal. Although you may have heard the stories of her exile, she now lives in the farthest turret on the southern side of the castle and advises her daughter, the queen.”

      Sybil’s delicate, youthful face in the painting was much different than the wrinkled, sun-splotched old woman she’d grown into. Yet, she’d grown wiser as well, at least in Nathaniel’s eyes. Although not well liked by Ebonvale’s people, she was like a grandmother to him.

      “I’m not like others. I do not judge matters which I’m not a part of.”

      Nathaniel nodded, impressed. This minstrel woman would be a fair ruler someday. He pointed up ahead. “Next are the king and queen.”

      Danika stood with Bron at her side. Her fierce stare showed the passion underlying her regal composure, while her hand gripping tightly on Bron’s arm showed her undying love for her husband. She’d risked the kingdom’s safety taking Bron instead of Valoria’s father as her husband. She loved the warrior more than anything in the world.

      Nathaniel paused, studying the pair. Maybe someday, he’d find such a love.

      “Finally, here’s the portrait you’ve been waiting for: Braxten Thoridian, son of Danika and Bron.” His brother stood in his silver battle armor, brandishing his thick, jewel-crusted claymore as if preparing to slay a wyvern.

      Valoria paused at Brax’s painting. The paint revealed the hard lines of his massive jaw, sleek shaved head, and barrel-shaped nose. Some women were drawn to intimidation and strength. But her face gave away no emotion.

      Nathaniel leaned toward her, searching her silver eyes. He’d be lying if he told himself he didn’t care what she thought.

      Chapter 3

      Empty Throne

      Valoria struggled to keep a straight face as she beheld her future intended. With arms wide as tree trunks, a square nose and beady eyes, he reminded her more of a raging bull than a man. He oozed masculinity and strength, but lacked tenderness in his blunt features. He looked more apt to slice off her arm than bring her flowers.

      She glanced away, unable to hold Brax’s war-hungry gaze. One painting was missing from the rest. Where was Nathaniel’s likeness?

      The soldier stood at arm’s length, studying the painting of the king and queen. Still, she could feel his gaze burn her cheek when she wasn’t looking in his direction. “Why are you not on this wall?”

      “I have no place there. I am not of their blood. Come.” He gestured toward the throne room. “We should not tarry.”

      Valoria bit her tongue. Right. When the question focuses on him, he ushers her ahead. How could she tell him she wasn’t ready? Would she ever be?

      The large oaken doors spread open, inviting them in. Attendants wearing velvet robes in Ebonvale’s purple colors bowed as the procession passed and entered the main audience chamber. The pennants of the house of Thoridian dangled from lofty rafters, waving lazily in the breeze from open windows.

      On the floor, marble tiles depicted the galaxy above, with swirling cosmic clouds and glinting stars of mica. The artist’s work represented Ebonvale’s never-ending reach throughout the world, stretching throughout the universe. Valoria tried not to compare their arrogant design with the House of Song’s peaceful dome.

      At the center of the cosmos stood three thrones made from the pillars of Helena and Horred’s temple before the dead army stomped their palace to ruins. Ancient craftsmen had carved climbing ivy and wandering butterflies in the ivory. Some of the images had broken off or crumbled. Yet, by the places where the artwork remained unscathed, she could sense how beautiful the ancient temple must have been.

      The doors closed behind her, leaving her to face her new family with no way to escape. If only she had her harp to calm herself with soothing tones.

      King Bronford Thoridian sat on the largest throne to the right, wearing his battle armor. His shaved head gleamed pale white like his son’s. But this man had kinder eyes. Whether because of the slight wrinkles around them, or by a hint of sympathy, Valoria did not know.

      Beside the king sat Danika Thoridian, the woman who’d stolen her father’s heart. Even though the queen had aged past her prime, her blonde hair glowed golden in the sun, and her sharp green eyes sparkled like emeralds. A necklace of five violet pearls lay around her neck. She was gorgeous, and Valoria could see why her father had been taken with the former princess.

      The queen’s foxy features showed compassion where Valoria thought there’d be none. “Helena’s sword! Are you harmed, my child?”

      “No, my lady.” Valoria bowed slowly before them, ensuring all saw her bloodied dress. “But the House of Song has sacrificed much to come.”

      “As it always has.” Sadness weighed down the queen’s pretty face.

      Valoria СКАЧАТЬ